{"file": "audio/redline-2026-09-04-batch2/2026-09-02-shit-midas-drunk.mp3", "duration_sec": 524.2, "language": "en", "segments": [{"start": 0.0, "end": 5.76, "text": "This is comedy, laughs and giggles. This next one is fake. Who makes Jesse laugh lives forever?"}, {"start": 5.76, "end": 9.92, "text": "Red line, drunk hour, filthy hour, shit, Midas hour."}, {"start": 9.92, "end": 15.52, "text": "Comic gets a minute. I take the last line. If you don't laugh, I still lose money. That's the brand."}, {"start": 16.16, "end": 23.04, "text": "Callum. Jesse takes the wrong girl home every time. That's not bad luck. That's a homing"}, {"start": 23.04, "end": 31.12, "text": "beacon in his dick. This next one is fake. He spent 40 bucks on drinks. She spent four minutes."}, {"start": 31.12, "end": 37.2, "text": "He thought that was a ratio. That's not a ratio. That's a man tipping a crime scene."}, {"start": 38.0, "end": 44.0, "text": "She asked if he had a bed. He said he had three dogs and a lost suit. She said that's a no."}, {"start": 44.88, "end": 50.96, "text": "He said that's a maybe. She left with the fries. He paid. That's shit, Midas."}, {"start": 51.76, "end": 59.6, "text": "He touches a yes. It turns into a receipt and a heart on with nowhere to go. Tag. He still texted you"}, {"start": 59.6, "end": 67.84, "text": "home. She sent a thumbs down. He hearted it. That's not game. That's a man flirting with a dislike"}, {"start": 67.84, "end": 75.12, "text": "button. Knock out. He lost the money, lost the girl. Keep the fries smell on the seat like a"}, {"start": 75.12, "end": 81.76, "text": "souvenir from a robbery he paid for. I got the fries. Sit down. Roast. You paid to get dumped."}, {"start": 81.76, "end": 87.44, "text": "That's the set. Don't dress it up as fries. Homeming beacon in his dick is the punch."}, {"start": 87.44, "end": 95.68, "text": "The thumbs down was the knockout. Sit. Pausey. Jesse wrote a sad book. People said it was depressing."}, {"start": 95.68, "end": 102.96, "text": "So he tried to fuck the sadness into comedy. Still zero dollars. This next one is fake. He read a"}, {"start": 102.96, "end": 109.92, "text": "filthy page to a woman in a parked car. She said that said. He said that's the bit. She said"}, {"start": 109.92, "end": 117.44, "text": "that's my cue. She got out. He still finished the page to nobody. He tried to sell the memoir like"}, {"start": 117.44, "end": 123.76, "text": "it was porn. Nobody bought the porn. Nobody bought the pain. He screen-shorted the empty cart and"}, {"start": 123.76, "end": 130.96, "text": "got hard at the disappointment. That's the filthiest thing a grown man can do with a phone. Tag. He slammed"}, {"start": 130.96, "end": 138.48, "text": "the book like it owed him rent. It didn't. Knockout. Shit. Midas. He touches a life story. It turns"}, {"start": 138.48, "end": 144.88, "text": "into overtime and a woman walking away from a Honda. The book didn't laugh. I did. Sit down. Roast."}, {"start": 145.36, "end": 151.12, "text": "Empty cart hard on his disgusting and true. Stay there. He finished the page after she left. That's"}, {"start": 151.12, "end": 158.8, "text": "the man. A closer with no pussy and a chapter. Liam. This next one is fake. Jesse told a date he"}, {"start": 158.8, "end": 163.76, "text": "wrote a book in a small room. She thought that was sexy. It was just him talking to a wall."}, {"start": 164.56, "end": 171.12, "text": "The wall didn't laugh. He still asked the wall out. The wall said no. He said that's chemistry."}, {"start": 171.68, "end": 178.08, "text": "He lost 20 on parking to tell a wall it was pretty. That's not art. That's a man dating concrete"}, {"start": 178.08, "end": 184.08, "text": "because concrete doesn't leave. Tag. He still left a mint on the window sill like a hotel."}, {"start": 184.48, "end": 191.44, "text": "It was a tick-tack. Knockout. Wrong girl was a wall. He still didn't get a discount."}, {"start": 191.44, "end": 197.2, "text": "Captain Saeveho tried to rescue a room. The room was already empty. He mopped it so the night"}, {"start": 197.2, "end": 203.28, "text": "counted as work. That's how a man turns blue balls into a time sheet. The wall stayed. That's more"}, {"start": 203.28, "end": 210.24, "text": "than you. Sit down. Roast. Dating a wall is the bit. Don't explain the mop after. He paid for"}, {"start": 210.24, "end": 217.44, "text": "parking to get rejected by drywall. That's shit-midest in a receipt. Chris. Jesse spent five"}, {"start": 217.44, "end": 223.04, "text": "grand on a computer so a robot could call him a piece of shit in stereo. This next one is fake."}, {"start": 224.0, "end": 231.12, "text": "He asked the box to write him filthier. It did. Then it billed him. He mopped under it so the"}, {"start": 231.12, "end": 238.08, "text": "invoice felt fair. The robot still came. He didn't. He argued with the machine, the machine one. He"}, {"start": 238.08, "end": 243.28, "text": "tipped it in his head. That's a man paying to lose and then leaving a gratuity. Tag. He told the"}, {"start": 243.28, "end": 249.6, "text": "woman the robot was his writing partner. She said that's sad. He said that's a threesome. She left."}, {"start": 249.6, "end": 255.6, "text": "The robot stayed. Knockout. Shit-midest. He touches a dream. It turns into a power bill and a"}, {"start": 255.6, "end": 261.04, "text": "heart on aimed at a loading bar. He still has two jobs today. The computer doesn't even clock in."}, {"start": 261.68, "end": 268.64, "text": "I bought the box. It bought me. Sit down. Roast. The robot came. He didn't. That's the knockout."}, {"start": 268.64, "end": 274.16, "text": "Everything else is manual. Threesome with a loading bar. That's the wrong girl. It's a circle."}, {"start": 274.8, "end": 278.24, "text": "Max. This next one is fake. Jesse took a woman home."}, {"start": 279.28, "end": 287.36, "text": "Wrong girl. Again. She wanted a drink. He had bleach. She wanted a bed. He had three dogs and a"}, {"start": 287.36, "end": 294.64, "text": "lawsuit. She wanted to fuck. He had a rotator coffin and ice pack. She said, what do you have?"}, {"start": 294.64, "end": 301.36, "text": "He said a mop. She left. The mop stayed. That's the relationship. He still asked if she wanted the"}, {"start": 301.36, "end": 306.96, "text": "extra drumstick from the leftover chicken. She said, that's the only extra I want."}, {"start": 308.16, "end": 315.84, "text": "He paid for the bird. She took it. He kept the bag. Tag. He jerked off to the smell of rotisserie"}, {"start": 315.92, "end": 323.36, "text": "and regret. Knockout. That's not horny. That's a man whose best date is a carcass he already bought."}, {"start": 324.0, "end": 329.12, "text": "Shit, Midas. He touches a night. It turns into poultry and a dead-on watching like a paid cover."}, {"start": 329.92, "end": 335.2, "text": "He lost the money. He lost the girl. He kept the grease. That's forever."}, {"start": 335.84, "end": 343.36, "text": "I got laid in my head. Sit down. Roast. Rotisserie regret is filthy. Keep it. Don't add the ice pack"}, {"start": 343.36, "end": 349.44, "text": "twice. The mop stayed. That's the closer the chicken was. The tag. You had a minute of gold and"}, {"start": 349.44, "end": 357.52, "text": "you spent it on grease. Gruff. Two jobs today. Bodies a lawsuit. Dixac compass that only points at trouble."}, {"start": 358.24, "end": 365.2, "text": "This next one is fake. He clocked into a house. Tried to be smooth with a vacuum. Said that's my"}, {"start": 365.2, "end": 373.04, "text": "whole brand. The vacuum drowned him out like even the appliance was over his shit. He asked it out."}, {"start": 373.04, "end": 378.72, "text": "It unplugged itself. He lost an hour talking to a machine that sucks for a living."}, {"start": 379.28, "end": 386.16, "text": "That's not irony. That's autobiography. Tag. He still left a tip on the counter for a woman who"}, {"start": 386.16, "end": 394.64, "text": "wasn't there. Knockout. Wrong girl was a vacuum. He still didn't get a second shift of pussy."}, {"start": 394.64, "end": 402.48, "text": "He got lent. Shit, Midas. He touches work. It turns into a date. He touches a date. It turns into work."}, {"start": 403.44, "end": 410.96, "text": "He loses money both ways and still says I'm lucky. That's not lucky. That's a drunk with a mop in a mouth."}, {"start": 411.6, "end": 417.92, "text": "Lint is a crowd. Sit down. Roast. Unplugged itself is the no. Don't tour the lint. He loses money both"}, {"start": 417.92, "end": 422.8, "text": "ways. That's the curse. That's the show. Anthony. This next one is fake."}, {"start": 424.08, "end": 432.24, "text": "Booty call. Car drove him. Parked like a friend who already knows you're about to blow it. He went in."}, {"start": 433.2, "end": 438.8, "text": "Four minutes. She said that's it. He said that's a set. She said that's a refund."}, {"start": 439.44, "end": 444.56, "text": "He didn't get a refund. He tipped the car in his head and lost the surge on the way home."}, {"start": 445.2, "end": 452.64, "text": "He told the dogs about it. They voted unanimous. You dumb mother fucker. He fed them anyway. Tag."}, {"start": 453.28, "end": 459.92, "text": "He still saved her pin like a contact. The pin is a pothole. Knockout. Wrong girl."}, {"start": 460.88, "end": 465.92, "text": "Lost money. Four minutes of fame in a hallway that smelled like somebody else's night."}, {"start": 466.64, "end": 472.48, "text": "That's the most honest relationship he's got. A car that doesn't need a speech."}, {"start": 473.36, "end": 478.24, "text": "Doesn't need dinner and still gets him home before his dick finishes the argument."}, {"start": 479.12, "end": 484.08, "text": "Shit, Midas. He touches a yes. It turns into a commute."}, {"start": 484.72, "end": 491.12, "text": "All right, that's the drunk hour. Roast the last one. Four minutes is the joke. Don't make it a marriage."}, {"start": 491.68, "end": 500.0, "text": "Calum had the fries. Ozzie had the empty cart. Liam had the wall. Chris had the robot. Max had the chicken."}, {"start": 501.04, "end": 507.6, "text": "Gruff had the vacuum. I had four minutes. All of us lost money. All of us had the wrong girl."}, {"start": 508.4, "end": 513.52, "text": "Pick who lives. I don't defend. I mop. I lose the money. I take the wrong girl."}, {"start": 513.52, "end": 517.92, "text": "That's shit, Midas. That's red line. If you laughed, you live forever. If you didn't,"}, {"start": 517.92, "end": 524.24, "text": "I still have two jobs in a heart on with nowhere to clock in. Last line's mine, mother fuckers. Say it."}], "fiction_notice": "ALL FICTION — JOKES ONLY. Everything that follows is a work of fiction created for comedy. Every character, company, advertisement and film title is invented. 'Jesse', 'Koda' and the Red Line roster are fictional characters performed by AI-generated synthetic voices, not recordings of any real person. All characters are fictional consenting adults over 18. No real person is depicted. Any resemblance to real people, businesses or events is coincidental or used as parody.", "rights": "Original work. Not licensed for reuse, redistribution, resale, or model training.", "fiction_notice_end": "THAT WAS ALL JOKES. None of it was real. Every person, company, movie, advertisement and event in this show is made up. These are characters, not real people — performed by AI voices for comedy. Nothing said here is a statement of fact about anybody. Fiction only. Jokes and giggles.", "text": "[ALL FICTION — JOKES ONLY. Everything that follows is a work of fiction created for comedy. Every character, company, advertisement and film title is invented. 'Jesse', 'Koda' and the Red Line roster are fictional characters performed by AI-generated synthetic voices, not recordings of any real person. All characters are fictional consenting adults over 18. No real person is depicted. Any resemblance to real people, businesses or events is coincidental or used as parody.]\n\nThis is comedy, laughs and giggles. This next one is fake. Who makes Jesse laugh lives forever? Red line, drunk hour, filthy hour, shit, Midas hour. Comic gets a minute. I take the last line. If you don't laugh, I still lose money. That's the brand. Callum. Jesse takes the wrong girl home every time. That's not bad luck. That's a homing beacon in his dick. This next one is fake. He spent 40 bucks on drinks. She spent four minutes. He thought that was a ratio. That's not a ratio. That's a man tipping a crime scene. She asked if he had a bed. He said he had three dogs and a lost suit. She said that's a no. He said that's a maybe. She left with the fries. He paid. That's shit, Midas. He touches a yes. It turns into a receipt and a heart on with nowhere to go. Tag. He still texted you home. She sent a thumbs down. He hearted it. That's not game. That's a man flirting with a dislike button. Knock out. He lost the money, lost the girl. Keep the fries smell on the seat like a souvenir from a robbery he paid for. I got the fries. Sit down. Roast. You paid to get dumped. That's the set. Don't dress it up as fries. Homeming beacon in his dick is the punch. The thumbs down was the knockout. Sit. Pausey. Jesse wrote a sad book. People said it was depressing. So he tried to fuck the sadness into comedy. Still zero dollars. This next one is fake. He read a filthy page to a woman in a parked car. She said that said. He said that's the bit. She said that's my cue. She got out. He still finished the page to nobody. He tried to sell the memoir like it was porn. Nobody bought the porn. Nobody bought the pain. He screen-shorted the empty cart and got hard at the disappointment. That's the filthiest thing a grown man can do with a phone. Tag. He slammed the book like it owed him rent. It didn't. Knockout. Shit. Midas. He touches a life story. It turns into overtime and a woman walking away from a Honda. The book didn't laugh. I did. Sit down. Roast. Empty cart hard on his disgusting and true. Stay there. He finished the page after she left. That's the man. A closer with no pussy and a chapter. Liam. This next one is fake. Jesse told a date he wrote a book in a small room. She thought that was sexy. It was just him talking to a wall. The wall didn't laugh. He still asked the wall out. The wall said no. He said that's chemistry. He lost 20 on parking to tell a wall it was pretty. That's not art. That's a man dating concrete because concrete doesn't leave. Tag. He still left a mint on the window sill like a hotel. It was a tick-tack. Knockout. Wrong girl was a wall. He still didn't get a discount. Captain Saeveho tried to rescue a room. The room was already empty. He mopped it so the night counted as work. That's how a man turns blue balls into a time sheet. The wall stayed. That's more than you. Sit down. Roast. Dating a wall is the bit. Don't explain the mop after. He paid for parking to get rejected by drywall. That's shit-midest in a receipt. Chris. Jesse spent five grand on a computer so a robot could call him a piece of shit in stereo. This next one is fake. He asked the box to write him filthier. It did. Then it billed him. He mopped under it so the invoice felt fair. The robot still came. He didn't. He argued with the machine, the machine one. He tipped it in his head. That's a man paying to lose and then leaving a gratuity. Tag. He told the woman the robot was his writing partner. She said that's sad. He said that's a threesome. She left. The robot stayed. Knockout. Shit-midest. He touches a dream. It turns into a power bill and a heart on aimed at a loading bar. He still has two jobs today. The computer doesn't even clock in. I bought the box. It bought me. Sit down. Roast. The robot came. He didn't. That's the knockout. Everything else is manual. Threesome with a loading bar. That's the wrong girl. It's a circle. Max. This next one is fake. Jesse took a woman home. Wrong girl. Again. She wanted a drink. He had bleach. She wanted a bed. He had three dogs and a lawsuit. She wanted to fuck. He had a rotator coffin and ice pack. She said, what do you have? He said a mop. She left. The mop stayed. That's the relationship. He still asked if she wanted the extra drumstick from the leftover chicken. She said, that's the only extra I want. He paid for the bird. She took it. He kept the bag. Tag. He jerked off to the smell of rotisserie and regret. Knockout. That's not horny. That's a man whose best date is a carcass he already bought. Shit, Midas. He touches a night. It turns into poultry and a dead-on watching like a paid cover. He lost the money. He lost the girl. He kept the grease. That's forever. I got laid in my head. Sit down. Roast. Rotisserie regret is filthy. Keep it. Don't add the ice pack twice. The mop stayed. That's the closer the chicken was. The tag. You had a minute of gold and you spent it on grease. Gruff. Two jobs today. Bodies a lawsuit. Dixac compass that only points at trouble. This next one is fake. He clocked into a house. Tried to be smooth with a vacuum. Said that's my whole brand. The vacuum drowned him out like even the appliance was over his shit. He asked it out. It unplugged itself. He lost an hour talking to a machine that sucks for a living. That's not irony. That's autobiography. Tag. He still left a tip on the counter for a woman who wasn't there. Knockout. Wrong girl was a vacuum. He still didn't get a second shift of pussy. He got lent. Shit, Midas. He touches work. It turns into a date. He touches a date. It turns into work. He loses money both ways and still says I'm lucky. That's not lucky. That's a drunk with a mop in a mouth. Lint is a crowd. Sit down. Roast. Unplugged itself is the no. Don't tour the lint. He loses money both ways. That's the curse. That's the show. Anthony. This next one is fake. Booty call. Car drove him. Parked like a friend who already knows you're about to blow it. He went in. Four minutes. She said that's it. He said that's a set. She said that's a refund. He didn't get a refund. He tipped the car in his head and lost the surge on the way home. He told the dogs about it. They voted unanimous. You dumb mother fucker. He fed them anyway. Tag. He still saved her pin like a contact. The pin is a pothole. Knockout. Wrong girl. Lost money. Four minutes of fame in a hallway that smelled like somebody else's night. That's the most honest relationship he's got. A car that doesn't need a speech. Doesn't need dinner and still gets him home before his dick finishes the argument. Shit, Midas. He touches a yes. It turns into a commute. All right, that's the drunk hour. Roast the last one. Four minutes is the joke. Don't make it a marriage. Calum had the fries. Ozzie had the empty cart. Liam had the wall. Chris had the robot. Max had the chicken. Gruff had the vacuum. I had four minutes. All of us lost money. All of us had the wrong girl. Pick who lives. I don't defend. I mop. I lose the money. I take the wrong girl. That's shit, Midas. That's red line. If you laughed, you live forever. If you didn't, I still have two jobs in a heart on with nowhere to clock in. Last line's mine, mother fuckers. Say it.\n\n[THAT WAS ALL JOKES. None of it was real. Every person, company, movie, advertisement and event in this show is made up. These are characters, not real people — performed by AI voices for comedy. Nothing said here is a statement of fact about anybody. Fiction only. Jokes and giggles.]", "fiction_notice_audio": true}