Long Winded with Gabby Windey
Details of Mr President's spray tan and the elusive prostate exam
Thu, 10 Apr 2025
I think you can gather the array of this week's topics. Including a new invention for the depressed people, the details of spray tanning Donald Trump and the prostate exam (not that we care but i do have experience in the matter and live to tell the tale). Enjoy!!!Sponsors:Nuuly: Get $28 off your first month of Nuuly when you sign up with the code GABBYWINDEY at nuuly.comSmalls: For a limited time only, get 35% off plus an additional 50% off your first order when you head to Smalls.com and use code GABBYWINDYThe RealReal: Get $25 off your first purchase when you go to TheRealReal.com/windedDryBar: Get a gorgeous blow out that lasts now and shop Drybar’s Blowout Defense products at drybar.comProduced by Dear Media.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Chapter 1: What is the theme of this podcast episode?
The following podcast is a Dear Media production.
Here we are. Thought you got rid of me not so fast. 52 weeks and then another 52 more. They want out of me. The sweet sound of a Diet Coke eroding my esophagus and the interior lining of my stomach. What am I supposed to do? Not enjoy. What am I supposed to do? Cut out everything acidic to not have a burp every 15 minutes of the day. Well, no, because I like buffalo coated cauliflower.
How else am I supposed to get the nutrients from a flower that is cauli if it's not draped? and that of a buffalo. And welcome back to another episode of Long-Winded. Thank you for being here time and time again. As you may or may not know, I'm wearing newly. I'm more casual today. But if you want one way to elevate a casual shirt, you just got to turn on the headlights.
And then all of a sudden, it's chic. I got a DM. I got a DM that read, I'm watching Traitors with my mother and she loves how bouncy your hair is, but she hates that you never wear a bra. Well, to that I say, this is music to my ears. encouragement, enabling the braless, the freedom of the nipple, which we're still begging for today as evidenced by the DM.
But the front of the shirt is not the star of the show. If you take a look at the back, if you take a look at the back, it's French. It's giving croissant. It's giving a ciggy in the plaza of the Eiffel Tower. Maybe there with a cup of a cappuccino, but if you want something cold, a timeless cross-cultural Diet Coke. Ah, yes. Yes, I said I prefer a Pepsi Zero, but then I had a Diet Pepsi.
It didn't hit the same as a Diet Coke. Maybe the Diet Coke is somewhat of a nostalgia, so I'll go for the Diet Coke between the hours of 12 and 3, and I'll go for a Diet Pepsi in the evening. Ah. A Pepsi Zero. What am I? Addison Rae. What do I look like? A flexible 20-year-old. What do I look like? A contortionist. She does things with her body that you could ever dream of. Not me. Because I can.
At one point in my life, I could. So here we are. So here we are again. You know I needed a pick-me-up today because I woke up and I looked in the mirror and something looked back at me. Something of a... Who's that guy from Chicago? The clown in Chicago? I know I've said Jack Nicholson before, but I am most likable. My likability lends itself to John C. Reilly.
That's who's looking back in the mirror at me today. What's all over my face besides the pimples staring back at me? A white head. How am I supposed to keep my wife? I'm breaking out. I feel ugly. Because I'm working hard at a new addiction called nicotine pouches. No, I'm not selling them. Maybe I'll bleep that. But everyone knows I'm always looking for a new addiction. I need to feel something.
I need a fix. I need a buzz. As you know, I'm off the cigarettes. I have to protect my lungs from the bronchitis. Yes, I'm still fighting it. Yes, I still have to sleep with a cold diffuser every night with a little eucalyptus peppermint. And if I'm lucky, orange tree months later. So here I am. It doesn't come as easy at first and you have to fight through the breakouts.
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Chapter 2: How does Gabby feel about personal appearance and self-care?
As they do, I see Carol every Wednesday with her four eyes looking back at me wondering where the fuck my pleasure centers went. Well, if I knew, well, if I knew I wouldn't be here sitting every Wednesday with the camera so far up my double chin, it doesn't know what to focus on. But I need some insight from my dear friend.
And then it got me thinking, what might make the pleasure centers a little more pleasurable? We know how I ended up here. It's the drama. What's going to soften the blow of the childhood that is my past? And I'll tell you, an accessible bed of sorts. Yeah, it doesn't roll off the tongue. It doesn't make it any less efficient. And this is my call, Patton. of the bed.
So any of you leeches out there looking for a new business model to get you out of your everyday life, join the club. I've been researching, I've been Googling, and this is mine. No, I haven't put it in any kind of database because I don't want to do that because it looks like it's a lot of effort. And accessible bread in bed for the depressos.
For the depressives, we shall begin because you know what? On a Monday at 10 a.m. when the emails start, boom, pouring in like the diarrhea that comes after the Saturday night because I don't know what the fuck you did with your intestines, but I bet it began and didn't end with an espresso martini, the tequila kind. You think that's going to go easy on your intestine?
No, it's called dumping syndrome. It's got to get it out. Here we are. The emails are pouring in at 10 a.m. OK, OK, let me try and look forward to something for once. No, no, because the first step is acceptance. I've accepted who I am, but I got to spend time with the cat.
So and I go to the office, her room dilapidated, dilapidated by the neglected track curtains that took a long time and a lot of energy on my behalf to figure out how the fuck it worked. Here we are in the room with my dyad, with, and it doesn't even matter, a comfortable Ikea chair made out of a soft brown leather that is suitable for your ergonomics. This is going to make your Monday better.
Cat atop the desk, staring back at you. What the fuck have you been doing with your whole life? With its big eyes, slow blinking, because luckily someone loves me. One thing. Okay, maybe I'll take a meeting, maybe not. But you know what? You know what? I'm no more productive sitting supine than I am. Let me try. You know what? I'm no more.
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Chapter 3: What are Gabby's thoughts on nicotine addiction and health?
See, I'm already one step ahead of myself because I cannot, I can't wait until the next time that I lie down. Let me try taking a meeting in bed for once. Oh, this is it. This is the stuff that makes me feel not alive. I've never felt that before, but at least more comfortable. I can think I'm relaxed. I can contribute to the conversation.
Not that I want to, because I have to sit through the grading of the conversation of my ears coming from other people's voices. Let's get on for 20 minutes in silence. How about we don't speak unless spoken to, and I shall not say a word. But maybe, maybe if I was laying down, I could have something to say. At least I'll be more comfortable.
I'm firing on all four between that and a packed nicotine pouch in the upper deck. Now I can think. No, I don't need to be sitting down for this. I need to be laying down re-accessible bed. Re-accessible bed. And it was inspired. It was inspired by the hospital bed. You spend enough time in a hospital and then things start to make sense. Of course, these have bed rails.
Of course, it has safety guardrails for when the sun starts going down and you slowly start to lose your mind. Why is my underwear on top of my head? Why am I looking in the fridge for my father's vintage pornography collection? Oh, I'm losing my mind. I'm sundowning. Somebody hit me with the owl doll. I need a bump. and restrain me to the bed.
No, my ganglion cyst is screaming, ergonomically correct, upright. No, it's not working because I'm holding so much tension in my wrists from my processing center that is my brain and failing by the second. I cannot, I know, I know I'm looking at something, but I cannot for the life of me understand what it is. These are just words or silence. It's not making any sense when I'm upright.
I'm spending, I'm spending, I'm spending. I spend on something I'm going to wear once at an outing that I don't even want to go to once for a picture on Instagram while I'm sick of it. And now, thank God, there's Nuuly. As you can see, I'm wearing an incredibly cute croissant shirt. Nuuly has clothes for any kind of events, for all kinds of occasions.
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Chapter 4: What is the concept of an 'accessible bed' and its benefits?
Just go to nuuly.com, that's Nuuly with two U's, and enter the code GABBYWINDY and sign up to get $28 off your first month. That's nuuly.com, Nuuly with two U's, with code GABBYWINDY. Nuuly Subscription Clothing Rental, change your clothes. I'm always trying to give myself a blowout. I don't have time to travel an hour to and fro to get my hair washed and blown out. I just need to do it by myself.
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It is not get ready with me. It's stay ready with me. Get a gorgeous blowout that lasts now and shop dry bars, blowout defense products at drybar.com. So we get to the accessible bed. So we get to the accessible bed where we can do all of our activities. And it comes with compartments of source and great bedding, maybe Brooklinen, maybe the Egyptian cotton from Amazon.
I'll put it in the link below. Maybe they're great sheets. It's like sleeping in a cloud, they say, which we're all going to experience one day because no matter what we do here, no matter if we go through the pain of being upright, we're still going to all I'll die. And who knows?
If your back is going to hold up by then, know you're still going to be in pain this sciatica because you've been laying in bed all day, you lazy fuck. I need a drink. Ah, the carbonation. The accessible bed comes with a variety of compartments. The first being your computer and the keyboard, complete with a number pad and a fucking mouse. I need to rest the palm of my hand on something.
I need the support. Like a Dr. Scholl's insert on a shoe that just doesn't fit right. I have high arches. What can I say? It's the one thing my mother gave me besides a button nose. You should see my point. You should see the point on these suckers. It'll make you grain with envy. A compartment for the computer and the number pad. Because if I have to poke at the top of the QWERTY one more time,
Okay. I'm free on a four slash 12. Okay. Go to the bottom. Okay. Up at 10 caps lock P S T A M poking, poking, poking, poking, poking. I want the number pad. Have you seen, have you seen a woman with a number pad, a force to be reckoned with? I can, I can type in those numbers. I can do some math. Fucking finally. Oh, my number. It's never, it's never become clearer in my head.
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Chapter 5: How does Gabby discuss the impact of capitalism on personal life?
It's never altruistic. Don't even think, don't even think that someone is doing something out of the kindness of their heart because I guarantee you they're not. Yes, I'm giving my last 20 to this nice man on the corner, but it's because I want karma for my next fucking life. But if luck was on my side, I wouldn't have one. I wouldn't have one. I can't do this all again. Are you kidding?
I've already done it all so many times before. You heard my past life regression. I've been here three times before, all out of scenes of television that I've seen recently. Coincidence? I don't think so. I've been there. It's never altruistic. As we know, re-CO2 emissions and mining for crypto. What are you, the crypto queen? What are you, stealing from all your payers?
And then you're going to disappear. And I forget what kind of country the crypto queen was. We stopped listening halfway through because it was boring. Okay, another scammer. Get in line behind me. And then there's the executive orders. There's always now everything's an executive order. Who killed JFK? Executive order. Kid Rock in the Oval Office. Executive order.
Clad in a loud red outfit and a cowboy hat with rhinestones. Executive order. Spray tans. Free spray tans for the over 70 population. Executive order. And imagine you were the spray tanologist with the task of spraying President Trump weekly. Imagine you are dealt the task to lift up his scrotum.
You got to do the wraparound and do it from the front so you can get in with the perfect amount of distance from underneath the scrotum as to buff out the bronzer so it matches perfectly. the cartilage of his ear, which we know doesn't match. He misses spots all the time.
Imagine you were the tanologist giving Trump the choreography as to not have any streaks on his level four tan, but he probably likes it because he does like to dance. Okay, put your hands in a prayer. Okay, now bend over. Got to get underneath the butt cheeks. No, you have to clench. I know your sphincters loose these days. And if you shoot a blank, I have another appointment at five.
I cannot go to the urgent care for the early onset of pink eye. I cannot afford confunctitis or conjunctivitis. from your loose asshole. Okay, now hold it in three, two, one, and zero. Let me back up away to the right. Now let it loose. Mr. Trump. Is it that protein shake? Is it the Ensure? We got to talk to your dietician. You have got to lay off those. There's feces in the air.
You take a break and come back. Okay. Now lift the heel and five, six, put it down. Seven, eight to the left. Two, three, four. Now stand up and relax. Seven, eight. He's doing the choreography. Okay, and you actually double. You double while he's bent over. He can only bend over so many times in a day, in a week. But for whatever reason, he needs weekly prostate exams. Okay, while you're here.
While you're here, let's see how much it's grown from last week because I hear your trickles. And I know we have to take a break. We have to take one break in the 10-minute spray, Dan. And I know it's not normal. It's your strain. You guys know Nom Nom, our beloved Nom Nom cat, Jocelyn.
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Chapter 6: What does Gabby say about mental health and medication in public?
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So, and then some of you may be thinking, okay, this is where you lost me. Okay, this is enough for me. Well, not me. Not me. If I have imagined Trump's asshole, burnt orange on the outside, covered with wispy hairs, similar to those on top of his head, bleach blonde and thin in nature, then you have to too. And I don't know if you know this about me. I've lived many lives.
Not just the ones in the notebook and Yellowstone that the regressionist told me. I've lived many lives on this earth. I've lived many lives. Not only was I an NFL cheerleader, an ICU nurse, I am a college dropout. I went to midwifery school for one year and a half before I had to throw in the towel after I learned about liability insurance. You're telling me.
You're telling me after I'm wrist deep in the assistance of the miracle that is childbirth, I can be sued for up to 18 years by both parties, the mom and the baby? I don't think so. I don't think so. I'd rather go on reality TV where I can get a chance to do the suing for once. Cut me some slack. No, I had to get out of there, but not before.
Not before I passed my health assessment class, a necessity where you had to go not via Zoom, but as live action. You had to show up to the flesh, in the flesh, to perform an assessment. From the lymph nodes behind your ears to the hole in your ass to the pulse in your toes. I had to assess it all. You know where this is going. I've been a prostate examiner once. Add that to my resume.
What can't she do? We're live action. Not only me, but my patient. My patient. Not sick. It's not sick, no. And you might be thinking, oh, yeah, where did she go? Phoenix, you. Well, to that, I say, fuck you. You act like I haven't thought of that before. Good joke. Good joke. Not. I'm live in the flesh and so is my patient. It was not a patient. He's an actor. Put some respect on his name.
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Chapter 7: Why does Gabby criticize pronunciation and altruism?
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . en . Like my mom always said it would, if I relax my quads for once, I get a break and this life that I'm already having a lot of problem living and the only time that I could get some time to myself is in the bathroom and I would like to not squat but rest. That is when I got the crab. Are you telling me? Are you kidding me? No, I must sever.
Now am I going to get rid of this pussy bug? That's itchy, itchy, itchy, itchy. I thought it was my perpetual yeast infection that I got from years pleasing the man on the dirty dick. No. No, no amounts of AZO is going to help this. I got to get a dye fluke in times two. It's resistant. So how am I going to get rid of this little bug? No, I can't crack it like a snow crab.
Don't tell me I have to comb through it with that of a Jiffy peanut butter. Disgusting. I've already thrown up in the Uber Tesla. Okay, and thanks for coming back again and again and again to Longwind. I'll see you next week if you're lucky. And you shall be. And you shall be. And you shall be. This episode may contain paid endorsements and advertisements for products and services.
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