Ted & Michael Read Sketches Into Microphones

Lifelong friends Ted O’Gorman and Michael Paul Smith read their comedy sketches into microphones. Oh...and that's where their talented friends come in.

Ted & Michael Read Sketches Into Microphones

Season 3, Episode 5 Transcript

February 8, 2022

Episode 5

MPS: Hello and welcome to Ted and Michael Read Sketches Into Microphones. I’m Michael Paul Smith.

Ted: And I’m Ted O’Gorman. So for this first sketch, Mike and I did something that I think is pretty groundbreaking. We took a film genre and we integrated into a sketch exposing its cliches, and capturing its essence in a sort of heightened way. Pretty cool. I wouldn’t be surprised if this kind of comedy writing really caught on.

MPS: Ted are you claiming that you invented parody?

Ted: No.

MPS: Oh, good. I was gonna say…

Ted: I’m claiming that WE invented it.

MPS: (Sighs) I…(Sighs again) Ok.

—Ted and Michael Noir, Part 1—

MPS (V.O.): I’d just come from an audition and the rain was pouring down in the big city. The sidewalks were empty and that was fine by me. I could have hopped in a cab but I thought the city looked like I felt, gray and moody. And after what I did in front of that casting director, I deserved to get soaked. Law and Order. The performance I gave was neither lawful or orderly. As soon as I got home I was gonna aim a double bourbon down my throat to soak my insides, too. Tonight was going to be a rough one. And with Gillian busy with a deadline, the chances of hanky panky were slim to none… and slim just left town.

*Apt door opens

MPS: Hey doll, I’m home.

MPS (V.O): No answer. She must be in her headphones editing another episode of The Hamilcast. I don’t know how she does it…

MPS: Honey baby! I’m home. Wait until you hear about my day, a damn doozy. I’m fixing a drink. You want something to take the edge off, pumpkin? Gillian!?

*Drink poured into rocks glass

MPS (V.O.) I opened the bedroom door and there she was asleep on the bed. This gal always worked hard and it wasn’t uncommon for her to pass out after working two days straight with no sleep. I stood there admiring my beautiful wife from the doorway. I slammed 3 fingers of Knob Creek home and as I felt the burn spread like a butterfly’s wings in my chest I noticed something wasn’t normal.

*Glass drops to floor

MPS: Gillian, Gillian, wake up honey what happened? Why is there blood on the pillow? Did you hit your head? Talk to me baby, talk to me!

GPS: What… what happened? Where am I?

MPS: You’re home kid. In our bed. Looks like you took a noggin knock something awful. Let me get you some ice. Does it hurt bad?

GPS: Wait… Oh no! He took it! That damned ginger scoundrel took my harddrive. The one marked Maltese. The Maltese Hard Drive. The one with season 3 of your podcast on it. I’m a fool, of all the scoundrels to turn my back on…

MPS: You mean Ted? What the hell was that no good louse doing in this apartment when I’m not here? Why didn’t you tell him to pound pavement? If that chuckle-head thinks he can wallop my gal and not have penny’s on his eyes he’s got a head full of cotton.

GPS: He came in and said he needed… he needed…

MPS: What did he need, honey? Come on talk to me.

GPS: He needed to… to… to take a dump. He said he was in the neighborhood and he ate something bad. The way he was holding his stomach and doing the two-step, I took him at his word. So I says, “Ok fella, no funny business. You empty that fudge locker. But then I want you outta here.” Then I came in here to get back to work. He must have snuck up behind me after I put my headphones back on and cracked me on the noodle. I didn’t hear a thing.

*Phone vibration is heard.

MPS: Well wouldn’t you know it. Right on cue. (Mike picks up) Start talking fella.

Ted: Well, well, well. How’s the lady doing? Sorry I didn’t leave any aspirin on the nightstand. Sure she could use some right about now. Hahaha.

MPS: Listen here mister–

Ted: I think you’re the one that’ll be doing the listening. That is if you ever want to see this hard drive again. I got a hammer and a funny notion this little gadget wouldn’t survive a thumping.

MPS: Alright. My ears just grew a size and you have their full attention.

—Swiss Cheese Penis—

VO: Hi there friend. We at Tyburn Industries understand all the shameful and embarrassing problems with which modern gentlemen deal. Going bald? We’ve got a pill for that. Erectile dysfunction? We’ve got a pill for that, too. Cholesterol is too high but you don’t want to exercise or change your diet? You guessed it; pills. Oodles of them! And now the good folks at Tyburn have a solution for one of the least-talked-about men’s issues of the 21st century: Swiss Cheese Penis. Swiss Cheese Penis, or Hypospadias queso is a growing phenomenon in which the penis begins to look like a tubular form of rotting swiss cheese. Check out some of our case studies!

Man1: When I first discovered my swiss cheese penis, it was awful. Piss would just come right out the holes in the side. I mean it would go everywhere! So much piss. So I started looking around for a cure. But then my boss found my google search history… and I was promptly let go.

Man2: So, I was flexing in front of my bedroom mirror when I heard an alarming whistling sound. At first I thought my wife was boiling water–you know, in the kettle to make tea down in the kitchen. But then I realized the open bedroom window was allowing a breeze in, creating a whistle effect through the holes in my penis. I was shocked. Next time Linda went down on me she was able to play Hot Cross Buns. We had a laugh. But that’s also when I knew this was a serious problem. So I went to the only people I thought could help.
Man3: My knob had a bunch‘a holes that looked like those hanging chads they had to recount in Florida after the Bush Gore election. It was embarrassing. But luckily because of my chauvinistic personality no woman has seen my penis in 14 years. Your loss, babes!

VO: Though the cause of Swiss Cheese Penis isn’t known, we’ve come up with a revolutionary treatment that is marginally effective. We treat your ailing penis like an actual slab of cheese. What does that mean, you ask? We melt the unwanted holes shut with a creme brulee torch. Ask yourself: what’s better, a series of holes in my stabber, or a bunch of scars I can say were the result of a fight with a smallish wild animal? We at Tyburn think the latter is better, and we bet you will too!

Man1: Honestly it’s still unsightly. But at least I can piss out of one hole again. So that’s something. And if anyone knows of any openings in the IT field, I’d appreciate it if you checked out my linkedin profile. The bank says I’m running out of time on my mortgage payments, and…

Man2: No more whistling. But I really wish Tyburn employed board certified anesthesiologists. The pain was pretty bad. I passed out four times during the procedure. Strangely they did have smelling salts to revive me each time. I wish they would have just let me sleep. So… I see a therapist now once a week. That’s going well. We’re uncovering some other stuff too. I guess I can thank Tyburn Industries for that. I’m finally processing my father’s lack of affection.

Man3: I didn’t feel a need to get the procedure. I’m hoping the whole situation clears itself up. Hasn’t happened yet. In all honesty I wake up every morning to more holes. And they’re forming quicker than ever. My rod now looks like an empty fishnet stocking. But what are you gonna do, go to a professional for every little thing? It’s enough already.

VO: At Tyburn Industries, we believe Swiss Cheese Penis is no gouda, and we want to brie here for you. Trust us and in no time your penis will be the sexual muenster it once was. Tyburn Industries: for your swiss cheese penis, and so much more.

—Bane At Santacon—

V.O: And now we present-supervillain Bane, walking through Penn Station on the night of “SantaCon: Gotham”

Bane: When one cannot even access an abandoned subway tunnel and must resort to an overcrowded transit hub, an act of subterfuge, and a quick jump…into the abyss…must follow. A throng of Santas approaches. There is no alternate route. Let the games begin.

*A drunk guy bumps into him.

Drunk 1: Excuse me!

Bane: Do as you please!

Drunk 1: You’re not the only guy with places to go, man. Seriously.

Bane: Really? Then why are you people milling about?

*Drunk 1 starts gagging.

Bane: Now is not the time to vomit. That comes later.

Drunk 1: It’s Jaeger burps.

Drunk 2: Ho ho ho, y’all! I’m fuckin’ Santa! WOOOO!

Bane: You “Ho” like an older man. Nothing held back. Admirable but mistaken

Drunk 3: You guys! I missed my train!

Drunk 4: It’s ok, Natalie, so did I. You’re fine. You’re so totally fine. Here. I still have my flask.

Drunk 3: What’s in it? Oh, fuck you, I don’t care.

Bane: So you came back to drink with your buddy.

Drunk 4: It’s a super fuckin’ buttery chardonnay.

Drunk 3: (Finishes) It’s warm…and metallic. It tastes like making out with my babysitter when I was a kid. He had braces.

Drunk 4: Can I help you…sir?

Bane: I cannot get through this crowd. I live in the sewer!

*Drunk 3 starts crying

Drunk 3: (Ignoring Bane) It’s not that, it’s just like…Kurt never ever waits for me. Like I don’t even mean anything to him. And he totally thinks Beyonce is hotter than me (cries more)! I’m a modern woman and I deserve more than a box set of Felicity for Christmas! I wanted a ring, dammit!

Bane: Ah yes! I was wondering which would break first. Your christmas spirit, or your sanity.

Conductor (On loudspeaker): The 11:04 to Huntington is now boarding on Track 12.

Drunk 4: Oh, that’s us. That’s us. Come on, Natalie.

Drunk 3: (Super drunk) No. I’m staying, I live here now. Kurt can go…Kurt can just friggin’…go. And joke’s on him cause I’m late. So boom. You know? Guys? Guys…?

Drunk 4: (Interrupting) I know he can, come on, sweety. Also your boob is out. Please put it back in your elf costume.

*Drunks 3 and 4 exit

Bane: The train is yours! The train is mobile! The bridges and tunnels from whence you came beg for your return.

Drunk 2: (Hiccuping) What’s that thing on your face, weirdo? Whaddaya you…think you’re better than me? Wanna fight? You hiding something weird under that thing, dicknose?! I’m fuckin’ Santa. You make it outta here alive that will be a miracle on 34th St. Ya shit. I’ve got Christmas power. Let’s do this.

Bane: No one cared who you were ‘til you put on the beard.

Drunk 2: (Hiccuping) You fight a lot for someone that wants to…talk. Put ‘em up. This is…my best season.

Bane: I was born in the dark. The winter…belongs to me.

*Drunk 2’s phone rings

Drunk 2: Shelly, lemme call you back. I gotta fight this guy. He’s gonna…he doesn’t even know what he’s gonna. What!? It’s over?!? Well I hate you too! You’re gonna look like a real asshole when my Dave Matthews cover band, “Crash Into Us” makes it big!

Bane: You have my permission to cry about your girlfriend. Then I will break you.

*Drunk 2 keeps crying for a few more seconds. Then Bane absolutely demolishes him.

Drunk 1: Hey, what’d you do to Scotty? He’s got to get home to work on his music. His band is one black violinist away from making it big! Strong Island, ya hefty bitch!

*Drunk 1 gets broken

Bane: Thank you, good Santa.

*Drunks 3 and 4 re-enter

Drunk 3: I don’t care. I’ll miss the train. Chances are I would have boarded the wrong one anyway! So the joke’s on you muthafuckas!

Drunk 4: Get back here! My father is a lawyer who lives in Westchester!

*Drunks 3 and 4 are demolished, too. The crowd screams and disperses.

Bane: At last. Room to maneuver. I think I’ll head to TGI Fridays for some of their signature whiskey glazed sesame chicken strips!

*The panic continues.

Bane: This great city……will endure. My hunger will soon be satiated. Thank god it’s friday.

V.O: This has been supervillain Bane, walking through Penn Station on the night of “SantaCon: Gotham”

—Ted and Michael Noir: 2—

MPS (V.O.): I listened to Ted’s instructions. Then I put Gillian in a cab and told her to high tail it to her folks’ house. I couldn’t chance her getting any more mixed up with a guy like him. Integrity and honor had never been words in his dictionary. I guess part of me had known something like this was coming. I’ve worked with Ted on and off for 16 years. And let me tell you, when you work with dirt you can’t help but have some of it get under your fingernails. I was a different man than the one he’d met all those years ago. I always thought that he was all biscuit but no gravy. But this time he’d gone too far. I wasn’t lookin’ to get even. I aimed to fix his biscuit for good this time.

MPS (V.O.): A few years ago I’d made the mistake of telling Ted about me and Gillian’s rainy day fund. Thousands and thousands of dollars in highly valuable and highly sought after… Pogs. I had the OJ Simpson mugshot original pogs, the “Alex Mack” pogs, the “Keenan and Kel” pogs, you name it. Enough pogs and slammers for Gillian and I to move to Niagara Falls and leave the rat race behind someday. I figured if Ted was making a play for fast cash he must have messed with the wrong black hat and needed to skip town quick. He just needed one more score for road money. Me and my bags of Pogs headed to the meeting with Ted. I wasn’t surprised when I saw he brought muscle.

MPS: Hey there fella. I’m here to see Ted.

Goon: Arms up, I gotta frisk ya.

MPS: No problem. Ain’t my first rodeo. But I’ll save you some time. I ain’t packin’.

*Goon quickly frisks MPS.

Goon: It’s my job. Consider me Ted’s guard dog.

MPS: Well with your gentle touch I’d say you’re more poodle than rottweiler.

Goon: Watch the attitude.

MPS: Watch your head when it hits the pavement.

*MPS swings his bag at the goon and knocks him out.

MPS: Next time check the bags too, smart guy. I brought the Pogs. But this bag here is all door knobs.

*Door opens

Ted: Surprised he went down so easy, but I guess you get what you pay for. And he was workin’ for crumbs.

MPS: I think you mean peanuts.

Ted: No, no Mike, it was crumbs.

MPS: Oh, it was literally crumbs. Alright. Guess you’re short on friends these days, ‘eh wiseguy?

Ted: Not at all. Have you met my friend, Tommy?

*Suspenseful music swells*

MPS: A tommy gun. How clever.

Ted: Reach for the sky, Smitty. I ain’t gonna say it twice. Put ‘em up! UP I SAID! UP!

*The dramatic music dissolves. We’re in the present.

Ted: He keeps reaching up. Are you ok? Mike open your eyes. Geeps, can you hand me the ice? His eyes are opening.

MPS: What’s…what’s the play here bub? I sent Gillian away…. Uhhhhhhh. What’s the caper you…you ginger bastard?

Ted: Mike, look at me. You smashed your head really bad.

*MPS slaps Ted

Ted: Ow! Shit!

*MPS slaps him again

Ted: Fuck! Stop it!

MPS: Where’s Gillian?

GPS: I’m right here Mike.

MPS: You’re not hurt. Ted didn’t hit you and steal the harddrive?
GPS: Ted you were right. We’ve got to go to the hospital again. He’s obviously concussed.

Ted: Mike, you’re at home in your apartment. You were cleaning crumbs under the table, you saw an ant, went to kill it, got scared, panicked and hit your head really hard on the underside of the table. You’ve been out for like 20 seconds.

MPS: Well that makes sense. Are my, are my pogs ok?

GPS: If he’s asking about his pogs that’s a good sign. That’s normal.

Ted: You guys are so weird.

MPS: Did, did… Did someone kill the ant?

Ted: Hey, that ant won’t be bothering you again, pal. You have my word.

MPS: Oh thank God. Thanks man.

GPS: Are we goin’ or what?

MPS: (Spade voice) Pull the packard around, toot sweet. I’ve got a score to settle, toots.

GPS and Ted: Oh, boy, let’s go, etc.

*MPS slaps Ted

Ted: Ah! Son of a bitch!

—Fan Mail—

MPS: Ted we’re going to do something a little different today. Gillian thought it would be a good idea to answer some of the questions and comments that we’ve received from listeners which is a thing that I can’t even believe we’re getting…

Ted: Just to be up front, Mike and I haven’t looked at these submissions yet. So we’ll answer as genuinely as we can in the moment. Fire away, there Mike.

MPS: Ok, first up. This is from Henry, from Des Moines. Hi, Henry.

Ted: Hey Henry.

MPS: “Do you guys wear clothes when you record your podcast?” I…oh, there’s more. “I picture you naked and covered head to toe in baby oil, spanking each other between takes.” Uh, Ted you want to take a swing at this one?

Ted: Sure that’s a weird one. Um, we wear regular clothes when we record the podcast. For instance I’m in jeans and a t-shirt right now.

MPS: Yup, we dress casually, but we are always clothed when we record. I think that’s pretty much the only rule that we have. Ok, next up. This question comes from Madeline from Columbus Ohio. Madeline asks, “Ted when you mount”…wow. “When you mount Mike, is it romantic or merely an animalistic show of dominance? Always wondered this. Thanks guys.” Wow. You always wondered this, Madeline?

Ted: These are not what I was expecting to answer.

MPS: The show hasn’t even been around for…I mean, ok…Madeline, Ted and I are not romantically involved. Nor do we mount one another to show dominance.

Ted: What’s going on in your world, Madeline?
MPS: Weird question Madeline. But of course we don’t judge anything that two consensual adults want to do in their private time. But it would probably mess up this brilliant comedic dynamic that Ted and I…

Ted: You mind if I pick the next one, Mike? These are getting away from what I thought fans would be asking.

MPS: I gotta be honest. I’m 0 for 2.

Ted: Mike this one is for you and it comes from Connor from Trenton, New Jersey.

MPS: Hi Connor.

Ted: It reads, “Mike what do you have against people who have prosthetics being on your podcast?”

MPS: What?

Ted: “Why do you hate our brave veterans that have been injured defending our freedom? You should be ashamed.” Alright. Thanks, Connor. Mike do you have something against our veterans? I mean, Connor is right, you’ve never cast an injured soldier for a role on our podcast.

MPS: No, I don’t! I love our veterans and I appreciate their service. I just don’t happen to know any that are actors, let alone any that have prosthetics that are actors, that would even want to be on our humble little podcast.

Ted: Well there you have it, Connor. Mike can’t even stomach being casual friends with a veteran.

MPS: That’s not what I said at all.

Ted: You learn something new everyday. You should work on that, Mike.

MPS: Why are you blaming me? We both cast the show.

Ted: Just responding to a fan’s question, Mr. Defensive.

MPS: Just…enough. Next question. God. This one comes from Jennifer from Forest Hills, Queens. Jennifer asks, “Mike is Ted as annoying as he comes off on the show?” Yes. “If so, have you considered writing a sketch where you kill Ted for real? It would be a privilege to share in the enjoyment of that occasion with you.” Well, the question appeals to me in a way, Jennifer. But Ted is my friend. We have disagreements sometimes, but I have never fantasized about his death. I’ve never thought about how easy it would be to slip something into his drink and wait for him to pass out so I could stab him with a knife I fashioned from a large block of ice, thereby melting the evidence after his death. And I’ve certainly never thought that Gillian and I would take a blood oath to tell the cops that Ted stabbed himself in a fit of self loathing, because anyone who knows Ted knows he must hate himself somethin’ fierce. So in short, no

Ted: Thanks Mike. It’s good to know you’ve never given my death any thought. Love you, man. Ok next question, this comes to us from Felix in New Mexico. Hi Felix. I didn’t realize we had fans in New Mexico, but that’s great news. Felix writes, “Please help me. I’m being held in a small storage unit against my will. My captor feeds me only once a day, I worry time is running out. The only comfort I have is your podcast. Please contact someone to help me.” Ok, well Felix, I appreciate the fact that you found yourself in a bit of a pickle. But next time you need help with a rescue effort you might want to narrow down your location to less than a whole entire state. New Mexico is a big place. Is it as big as you Californias or your Texases? No. But it is still a whole state. So Mike and I must decline to help.

MPS: He doesn’t even give us the type of storage unit. Like, is it a chain or is it independently owned? Felix, don’t waste our fucking time, ok? Next time you write a comment to a podcaster try to make it about the podcast, not a crap situation you found yourself in. I’ve got my own problems.

Ted: Are you a little pissed at this Felix guy? Because for me, I think he just kind of ruined this segment.

MPS: I’m not going to lie. I’m still sort of checkin’ in with me here. But Felix has me a bit steamed. I don’t really want to answer any more fan mail if there’s even a chance we’re going to get another that’s as dumb as this asshole’s was. And thanks for not giving us your last name, Felix. So we’re just supposed to search every storage unit in all of New Mexico for anyone named Felix? Grow up, dude.

Ted: Way to screw up a nice thing Felix.

MPS: There’s multiple Felixes in multiple storage units in New Mexico, right now.

Ted: I’ll guarantee it.

MPS: Just stab your captor with an icicle! God! Common sense.

Ted: Common-goddamned-sense.


MPS: This episode is dedicated to tissue boxes worn on your feet as shoes, which is something that Ted is looking forward to availing himself of when he becomes a billionaire and loses his mind.

Ted: Matter of time, Mike. We’re very successful.

MPS: Just make sure you keep clipping your fingernails.

Ted: No promises, Mike.

MPS: Oh boy.

Ted: I’m gonna stop peeing in the toilet, too.

MPS: Oh. Boy.


“Bane at Santacon”

Eddy: I’m assuming, keeping the hiccups stuff going?

MPS: Keep it going. It just hit him, Eddy. He was swigging from a flask and it hit him all at once.

Eddy: Yeah. Right?

Ted: He’s a Goldschlager guy. I can tell.

Eddy: For sure.

Ted: Ya hefty bitch!

MPS: Well that’s the one. That’s the one that we’re gonna use. 100%

Ted: You might be big, bro. But you ain’t fuckin’ cut. You don’t scare me. I was all county lacrosse!

MPS: (Bane) Thank you, good Santa.

GPS: It’s chardonnay. It’s buttery.

Ted: I was gonna say, can you do “It’s a super fuckin’ buttery chardonnay.”

GPS: It’s fuckin’…it’s just…a buttery chardonnay. It’s just buttery.

MPS: Can you actually say “It’s a super fuckin’ buttery chardonnay.”

GPS: It’s a super fuckin’ buttery chardonnay.

Ted: That’s the one.

MPS: Oh, man. Yup.

“Swiss Cheese Penis”

MPS: Great. And just try to hit “pallor” this time. Like “pal.” “Pal Joey.”

CJJ: Pallor.

MPS: Yeah. Like “Pal Joey.”

CJJ: “Pal Joey.” Yeah that was the first gay bar I ever went to.

Ameeta: (Reading) “When the opening of the urethra is not located at the tip of the penis.” Interesting.

CJJ: Yes! It’s at the bottom.

Ted: This whole fuckin’ thing is one long outtake. How do we get a scientific term for Swiss Cheese Penis? And we’re all actually looking up what the words are, and trying to be professional!

CJJ: You’ll be able to Monterey jack your partner like the sexual meunster it was…no, that’s too much.

Ted: Is anyone else gonna lie about what we were doing this afternoon, if we’re ever asked?

CJJ: No, I won’t.

Ameeta: I mean, obviously we’re working.

MPS: Great, Jules. Can we go one more time, and can you give me “fromage”, the like…

CJJ: FORMAGE…Formage of your life…

MPS: The French…yeah.

CJJ: Formage of your life…

Ted: Fromage.

MPS: Fromage.

CJJ: Formage? Formage of your life. Formage of your life. I don’t think I’m doing it.

MPS: No you’re not. But it’s fine.

Patrick: I didn’t feel a need to get the procedure. Oh! There’s a dog! Hi Fiona! Oh, that’s…ok. Alright. I didn’t feel a need to get the procedure.

MPS: Can we try it like…do an impression of your dad.

Ted: God, that’s tough. You want me to not say anything and sit in the corner looking judgmental?

MPS: No, I mean…yeah that’d be great for a podcast.

CJJ: Fromage of your life things have been going wrong. Let Tyburn set it right. For just a little bit of cheddar, you’ll no longer be provolone. There’ll be no more holes in your pecorino. All you have to do is call us on the mascarPHONE. Tyburn Industries: always gruyere for you. Take it E-Z!


“Ted and Michael Read Sketches Into Microphones” is written and directed by Michael Paul Smith and Ted O’Gorman, with some room for improv because this is a comedy podcast, friends. We’re not tied to the page. In addition to our hosts; Ted and Michael, this season features the voice talents of Andrew Bancroft-aka Jelly Donut, Aneesa Folds, James Monroe Iglehart, C. Julian Jimenez, Eddy Lee, Patrick McCartney, Janice McIntyre, Hallie O’Gorman, Mike O’Gorman, Emmanuel Polycarpe, April Sickler, Nik Walker, and me: Gillian Pensavalle. I’m also the executive producer. Season 3 of “Ted and Michael Read Sketches Into Microphones” was recorded, edited, sound designed, and mixed by the badass team at Audio Muses: India Hooi and Ameeta Ganatra. This season was produced in association with our friends over at Mischief Media, as well as co-producer Jenson Parker Neal. Original music for “Ted and Michael” Season 3 composed by India Hooi. You can find full credits, plus episodes, transcripts, and more at tedandmichael.com. Subscribe wherever you get your podcasts, and we’d really appreciate it if you could rate and review us on Apple Podcasts. Those reviews help a lot, and to be honest since it’s just us here, Ted and Michael need a lot of reassurance, and it would just make my life so much easier. Thanks. Follow the guys on Twitter @tedandmichael, individually @tedogorman, @mpsmithnyc, and use the hashtag #tedandmichael on all the things. For love notes and hate mail, use tedandmichael@gmail.com. Thanks again for listening, and hey–stay weird, friends!

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