The Anatomy Of a Hater

Ever wonder why some people just can’t resist throwing shade like it’s their full-time job? Well, buckle up, because today on The Mikey Podcast, we’re ripping the mask off those joy-sucking, life-draining parasites who just can’t stand to see anyone else shine.

Join me as I dissect the anatomy of a hater. We’re talking about everyone from the Overly Critical Friend who can’t help but nitpick every single one of your achievements, to the Gossip Monger who thrives on spreading lies like it’s a competitive sport. And don’t get me started on the Social Media Stalker lurking in the digital shadows, or the Jealous Frenemy who’s all smiles to your face but plotting your downfall behind your back.

But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. We’re diving deep into the twisted psychology behind why these sad souls act the way they do. Are they projecting their own insecurities? Do they feel threatened by your blazing success? Or are they just so trapped in their own miserable existence that they need to drag everyone else down to their level?

Expect raw, unfiltered talk. I’ll be sharing some personal stories about the haters I’ve tangled with – and let me tell you, the radio industry has no shortage of them. Plus, I’ll give you some advice on how to spot these toxic types and, more importantly, how to deal with them. Hint: sometimes you just need to light the match, burn those bridges, and walk the hell away.

So, if you’re fed up with the haters in your life and need a good laugh at their expense, this episode is your ticket.

Tune in to The Mikey Podcast and let’s unmask these haters together.

Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.

Catch the latest episode now and let’s give these haters something to really talk about.

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Stay safe, stay weird, and question everything.

45 and Still Faking It

Alright, folks, gather ’round and let me regale you with the joyous tale of turning 45. Halfway to ninety and just as clueless as ever.

Almost 20 years ago, I packed my bags, kissed Ohio goodbye, and set out on a grand adventure that’s taken me through the dusty deserts of Nevada, the sunny chaos of California, the historical pretentiousness of Massachusetts, the not-so-gardeny parts of New Jersey, and back to California. Why? For the love of radio!

Oh, radio, you seductive bitch. You lured me in with promises of fame, fortune, and a lifestyle so glamorous it would make Hollywood blush. And for a while, it was golden. I was living the dream as an on-air personality and imaging producer, my voice bouncing off the airwaves all over the world!. Then along came Mr. New Guy, who decided he didn’t like my style. Yes an overweight douchebag with terrible style and an unbelievable lack of creativity fired me. Just like that, poof! The dream crumbled faster than a cheap taco shell.

Now I’m here in California with my wife, the kids, and a bonus kid from my wife’s previous adventure in life. Although one of my kids is still back in Ohio, probably wondering what the hell Dad is still doing living in the most expensive place in America. I wonder that too …

The thing is, I’m podcasting pretty successfully, but not successfully enough to ditch the day job. And what a day job it is. Representing the oil, fuel, and gas station industry—because nothing screams passion like convenience stores and petrol.

2 days a week in the office and 3 days a week, I’m working from home, pretending I know what I’m doing, faking it like a pro. The pay is decent, the coworkers are cool, but the passion? Nonexistent. Sales? I’d rather eat a bag of nails. But hey, it’s a job, right? And it’s depressing.

I never imagined working in an office environment or having this type of job. Never, yet here I am miserable like everyone else.

There was a time I loved my job. I loved waking up and going to work. Now I dread it.

You know what really gets me though? The older I get, the more I realize I’ve been chasing career highs instead of building real, meaningful friendships.

I miss having friends. I miss the parties, the birthdays, the pointless hangouts where we’d solve the world’s problems over a six-pack and bag of weed. Now, my birthday is a quiet affair. No big bashes, just a few texts from family and, of course, the amazing listeners of my podcast. You guys are seriously the real heroes. Please know that I appreciate you so much.

As I inch closer to 45, I’m hit with the existential question: Was it all worth it? Missing out on family events, leaving friends behind, moving from state to state for a career that’s as stable as a Jenga tower in an earthquake? I don’t know. But I do believe that everything happens for a reason, even if that reason is as clear as mud right now.

I miss radio. I miss the thrill of the live broadcast, the creative rush, the connection with listeners. But moving around the country isn’t an option anymore. The kids are in middle and high school, and uprooting them would be selfish. Responsibilities, man. They’re like that one relative who shows up uninvited and never leaves.

But there are bright spots. Watching my daughter grow, seeing my bonus son figure out who he is, building a life with my wife, and having the freedom to run my podcast my way—these are the moments that make the struggle worthwhile. I’m still doing what I love, just not on the scale I envisioned. And maybe that’s okay.

So here I am, on the brink of 45, wondering what the next chapter holds. Maybe I’ll finally find a way to make podcasting and creating events my full-time gig. Maybe I’ll stumble upon a new passion. Or maybe I’ll just keep faking and being miserable with my career until I die. Whatever happens, I know this much: getting older might suck, but it’s also an adventure. And as long as I’m still in the game, I’ll keep playing.

Here’s to 45 years of glorious confusion and the hope that the next 45 will be just as wild.

Stay safe, stay weird and remember… question everything

PS.

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