Re:Invigorate With Woof: "WING IT WEDNESDAY"

San Francisco held a group primal scream at the ocean ("cheaper than therapy, and the ocean doesn't interrupt you"), a wandering moose gave Warsaw-area commuters a genuinely great excuse, a Georgia towel thief was caught on camera getting distracted by a rubber duck, and firefighters in Somerset extracted a ram named Rambo from a pipe. Margie's verdict on the lineup: no emu, no kangaroo, no wombats, no snakes 18:42.

With Uncle Corvus not yet in the room, Woof performed one on his behalf — a Brazilian blend, chocolate-vanilla-orange notes, creamer, agave, "it's so divine." Margie graded it generously and noted the only missing element was a Belgium reference 25:04.

"I didn't come for the coffee. I came to know why the fuck I sound like an Indian." He then listed everything the impression left out — altitude, process, farmer, region — before granting a pass at "far eastern, 1.4 million dollar altitude. Excellent. Moving on" 26:38.

Corvus described catching Lars from Tiny Vikings mentioning his upcoming space times, screenshotting the recap's version of it and sending it over as ready-made promo. He also mentioned George from Crypto Rabbit Hole getting a ten-minute X timeout for posting too much with the automated setup. Woof said he uses it daily to catch up on spaces he had to miss at work 28:24.

Corvus tracked his own mowing on a pedometer: roughly four kilometers for the backyard alone with a push mower, nine all up. His conclusion on the grind-harder advice: "I've got washing, I've got kitchen, I've got laundry, I've got to do lawns." Then, pivoting on a dime into the show's title — "I love winging it. I love wings."

Woof declared boneless wings superior on the grounds that they are simply breast meat. Margie was unmoved — "that is diabolical" — and Ryan sided against the host on the theory that bones are a value-add 33:29. This led to Margie's ten-pound bag of wings containing exactly one flat, and a $23.99 check arriving three days later 34:05.

Corvus's ash refused to fall, which turned out to be a length of wire running three-quarters up the cigarette holding the whole thing together. He called the Australian hotline, got "you're all right, mate, did you get hurt?" and walked away with three cartons. "That was the best three cartons of ciggies I'd ever smoked" 38:42.

Woof's parallel customer service tale: sighting in a .30-30 before deer season, 13 of 25 Remington rounds failed to fire. The rep asked if he'd shaken the rounds first, then suggested he stop buying their products. Twenty-five years later Woof still won't. Ryan's reaction: "I've never heard a business take that stance ever" 46:41.

Corvus asked to be taken to a gun range when he's stateside, worried that after this conversation he'll walk in convinced shells need shaking "like chocolate milk." He then recounted a one-shot fox at seven or eight hundred meters off a back deck — "I took its head clean off" — while insisting it was a total fluke, and offered a reciprocal skill: "when the bullets run out I'll help you make a stick that when you throw it it'll come back" 50:59.

The room went quiet for Corvus explaining why the Australian military path closed: both knees destroyed at the end of year 12 playing basketball, 16 fragments out of the left, 11 out of the right, one kneecap split in half. "You can't take the boy out of the bush," he said, still ready to take a Pepsi challenge with anyone out there.

Margie explained the greasy paper bag a coworker kept bringing in — ten chicken butts, presented as breakfast, on a plate. She transferred departments for a week. Woof and Ryan were both entirely unaware this was a food item, and Corvus came down firmly on the pro-butt side: leave it on, it's like an onion, cut it early and "you're gonna get swamp butt" 1:03:45. Margie maintained her turkey is basted, moist, and not up for discussion 1:04:23.