What the Hell is Cum Town?
Hello. If you’re reading this, I’m assuming a boy recently mentioned that Cum Town is one of his favorite things. And if you’re like me, you were like, oh wow, isn’t cumming kind of one of all of our favorite things? Well, the Cum Town he’s probably referring to isn’t a euphemism for having sex — as cute as that would be.
Cum Town is a dude podcast. And even its own hosts hate it.
A little background: Cum Town was started in 2017 by three comedian buddies, Nick Mullen, Stavros Halkias, and Adam Friedland. (I’m going to be completely honest with you. I know virtually nothing about these men, except that one of them is missing a front tooth. All of my research for this article involved questioning my 28-year-old boyfriend over breakfast and listening to some clips on YouTube. I never claimed to be a journalist!)
But here’s the gist. Cum Town started as a place for these three dudes to chat, call each other gay, and do celebrity impressions. They aren’t PC — in one clip I listened to, they refer to Michael Clarke Duncan’s character in The Green Mile as the r-word (uggghhhhh) — but they exude a weird, douchey confidence that smells strongly of late night Reddit scrolling.
Everyone and anyone is fair game for their doofus insults, especially each other. Personally, I would be super pissed if my friends insulted me on their podcast, but maybe I don’t have a great grasp on how men express their love for each other.
Boys freaking love this podcast.
They are not only keeping Cum Town alive, they are making the hosts ridiculously rich. Last I checked, in 2022 they make approximately $100k per month, just from Patreon. They must be getting paid well for ads, too, because according to my very reliable source (boyfriend), their recent episodes consist of 20 minutes of conversation and 40 minutes of rambling, borderline non-sensical advertisements for things like Delta 8 weed.
It should also be noted that “The Cum Boys” keep their production costs extraordinarily low. Instead of partnering with a company, hiring producers and editors, or … literally anything professional, the three sit around holding microphones, sometimes just in front of the tv. They’re living a sort of warped American dream: raking in money by hanging out with their friends, saying whatever they want.
Which is why they can’t stop making Cum Town. Even though they are sick of it.
Maybe its the pressure of a gargantuan audience or the thought of finding professional success as a host of a podcast called Cum Town, but these guys do not care anymore. Apparently, they regularly record four episodes at a time, releasing them with little to no editing, so oftentimes, you will fall into the middle of a conversation that started two episodes ago. Work smarter, not harder, I guess?
Glancing through their recent episodes on Spotify, I couldn’t even decipher what they were about. One was called “ffff” and the description offered no clarity, stating only, “fffffff.”
To be fair, I’ve saved a lot of rough drafts with similar titles. But I’ve also spent hours — days! — painstakingly writing and re-writing an Instagram caption, only for it to be met with meager likes and one terrible spam comment. It’s a little infuriating (a big middle finger to internet cancel culture/trying on the internet in general), but probably part of the Cum Town allure. If they don’t give a fuck, maybe you don’t have to either.
Dare I judge someone else’s way of temporarily cooling down the bubbling hot, low-grade stress simmering behind all of our eyes?
Yeah, maybe a little. I think the uber dumb, juvenile comedy of Cum Town rubs my inner nerdy good girl the wrong way. Like, guys, when you come over after school, please do NOT talk like that in front of my mom!
But you know what? Maybe I need to loosen the heck up. Because it’s not like I don’t listen to anything ridiculous. You could accuse true crime podcasts of being my Cum Town. They don’t accurately reflect my interests or even my personality, but for some ungraspable reason, they relax me. To take it to another level of what the heck, I regularly listen to true crime videos in ASMR, as in they are whispered. AND I send a handful of creators a few dollars a month on their Patreons. What the hell does that say about ME?
I guess we all need to indulge in a guilty podcast pleasure now and again.
