Noble Blood - The Mad Tyrant, Hey Hey!

Episode Date: May 11, 2021

In American history books, King George III is painted as the despotic villain keeping us from our independence. That he was "mad," then, makes perfect sense. But in reality, his madness was a sad coda to a long reign, a tragic untreated illness that left him completely alone. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHart Podcast presents soccer moms. So I'm Leanne. Yeah. This is my best friend, Janet. Hey. And we have been joined at the hips since high school.

Absolutely. A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips. This is a podcast. We're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey. With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? They hit a bogo. Well, then you got it.

Listen to Soccer moms on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Dana. One quick reminder, Noble Blood is on Patreon. If you love the show and want to throw me some extra support, go to patreon.com slash Noble Blood Tales, where you can get access to episode scripts and bibliographies, random comments in behind the scenes material, or just to say hi. But as always, the best possible support for the show, is just listening, and I'm so grateful that you do. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Grimmin Mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion is advised.

In the 1840s, there was a young princess of Bavaria named Alexandra. By all accounts, Alexandra was brilliant. She would go on to write a number of books and published translations. And she was beautiful. But in her early 20s, some peculiarities began to be. reveal themselves. Alexandra always obsessed with ideas of purity and cleanliness, dressed only in white. She walked gingerly in her slippers, turning sideways to go through doorways, and she avoided touching most things. Why was she being so careful, her family asked, when they noticed the fear

behind her eyes when she narrowed her elbows to make her way down a hallway? The explanation for her behavior, Alexandra said, was quite simple. She had swallowed a grand piano as a child, a full-sized grand piano made of glass, and now years later, the glass piano was still inside her, unbroken. That was why she needed to move so carefully to protect her body, because the glass grand piano was always at risk of shattering inside of her. Though the quote-unquote glass delusion all but disappeared after the 19th century, for hundreds of years up until then, it was a well-documented phenomenon. Descartes mentioned it, and it's included in the 1621 medical book,

Anatomy of Melancholy. Princess Alexandra's case is one of the most famous, no doubt because of her royal rank, and also the poetic specificity of the Grand Piano, made of glass. But another famous royal was also struck by the glass delusion. Charles the six, who would become King of France in the 1300s, and whom I covered in the podcast episode Charles the beloved, the mad, the fool. Convinced that his body had transformed into glass, Charles would spend hours motionless in his bed protected by layers of blankets. When he had to go out into the world, he did so with specially made iron ribs built into his clothing to protect his

organs that he so believed might shatter with the most delicate of touches. It's not a coincidence that the glass delusion seemed to mostly attach itself to high-ranking royals. At the time, it was diagnosed as melancholy, but modern psychotherapists have interpreted the glass delusion as a manifestation of feeling vulnerable and fragile, fully exposed by a position in the public eye, being completely transparent and unable to protect oneself. The myth of the mad monarch is an appealing one, the macabre tragedy of someone with wealth, power, and privilege, losing that one thing that all of the above can't protect, their mind. The mad monarch trope also emerged. The mad monarch trope also emerges fairly often in pop culture, but usually with less tragedy. The pop culture version is

usually a despot, a mad king or queen who uses their powers tyrannically and needs to be taken down. Perhaps there's no historical figure that straddles that dichotomy more than King George III, the Hanoverian King of England who lost the American colonies. At least in the United States, when we learn about him, it's as a despot, the tyrant king who greedily imposed taxes on his humble servants while denying them representation. How easy it is then to fold the historical truth of his insanity into that narrative. The American colonists had to declare independence from the mad king George III. The truth, if you can guess, is a little more complicated and unfortunately a lot sadder. George III did lose the American colonies, although England being a parliamentary

monarchy at the time, his role in the affair was a little less active than I think most American schoolchildren believe. And then, more than three decades after that, George lost his mind. He became a shell of his former self, wandering through a palace with a long white beard, rambling incoherently, forgetting the identities of his loved ones, and then forgetting himself. Treatments for his mental illness ranged from leeches to straight jackets, and the King of England's life ended bleakly, a prisoner in his own palace, the most powerful man in the country, with absolutely no power anymore. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. contrary to what you might expect, George III was not the son of George the Second.

George the third was actually the king's grandson, the eldest boy born to Frederick, the Prince of Wales. George III had a dangerous and inauspicious early start in life. He was born two full months early, dangerous enough in this day and age of modern medical technological advancement. But in 1738, the palace was so much. ready for young George to die, that he was given an emergency baptism the very day that he was born. But then, despite it all, George survived. A few weeks later, he was given the public baptism befitting a member of the royal family. George I and George the second were both kings of England who were born in Hanover, with German as their first language. George the third would be

the first English monarch in living memory actually born in England. As a young man in direct line to the throne, George was given a first-rate education. He was the first royal to study science formally, and his lessons touched on chemistry, astronomy, and physics. There's actually some debate as to how intelligent George III actually was growing up. One source, albeit a buy-it-sourced with a grudge against the Prince of Wales at the time, claimed that George III couldn't read until he was 11 years old. But more accurate reports are that by age eight he could read and write in both English and German. In fact, by most accounts, he was a healthy, smart enough child who would grow into a relatively healthy, smart, if a little prudish and old-fashioned young man. He was tall and fair

with slightly bulging and prominent eyes. When he was a little prudish and old-fashioned young man, he was tall and he was nervous, he spoke too fast, and he had a keen interest in the mundane details of farming. He also had the habit of saying, hey, hey, at the end of sentences. Most people liked him well enough, except his grandfather, the king. The king viewed his grandson with suspicion and disappointment. The only person that the king disliked more than his grandson was his own son, Frederick. George II dreaded the day that he would die and leave Frederick to inherit the kingdom. Fortunately for him, that day never came.

In 1751, Prince Frederick died suddenly from a lung injury. George III, just 13 years old, became the heir apparent. Within three weeks, his grandfather made it all formal. George III was the new Prince of Wales. The king still didn't really like his great-year. grandson, but well, now he didn't have a choice. He would have to make do with him. Their relationship was, to say the least, tense as the fatherless George III grew older. When George III was a young man, he offered his service to the military.

I'll be a terror to the enemy, he's quoted as saying, presumably not remembering that he had absolutely no military experience. As the heir apparent of the entire kingdom, and considering again, the complete lack of experience, his grandfather the king politely declined the offer. George III was outraged. He started calling the king the old man and said that he was ashamed to be his grandson. It was perhaps the sort of youthful rebellion that you can imagine from a fatherless boy of ordinary ability but immense privilege. Another manifestation of youthful rebellion for a prince falling in love with a commoner. When he was 21, George III was besotted with Lady Sarah Lennox,

one of the notorious Lennox sisters. George's mentor, Lord Butte, was the most prominent voice against the match. And George III begrudgingly agreed that he wouldn't be able to marry her. But that didn't stop him from waxing poetic about how much he loved her and how miserable he was that he had been torn away from a future with her. The king decided that he would help his grandson find a nice German princess to marry. The first two choices from Damsat and Schwed were eliminated because both girls were reportedly stubborn and ill-tempered. The princess from Saxgotha was out of the question because George had heard that she had an interest in philosophy.

Gasp. But before an appropriate match could be found, a seismic shift occurred in young George's life. His grandfather, the king, died, and at 22 years old, George III was the new king. First things first, he still needed a wife. He casually tossed around the idea of marrying Sarah Lennox now that he was the boss, but only half-heartedly. Instead, he made the respectable choice of Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg Strellets. She was 17 at the time, and no one claimed that she was a great beauty,

but the reports were that she was sensible and amenable to the Anglican Church. She and George met at 3 p.m. one afternoon, and that very day they were married at 9 p.m. Two weeks after the wedding, the pair had a joint coronation in Westminster Abbey, and the king purchased Buckingham House, the palace out from which the modern-day Buckingham Palace would grow. By royal marriage standards, theirs was a rousing success. George never took a mistress, and he and Charlotte had 15 children, 12 of whom would survive through adulthood. It turns out both he and Charlotte shared a love of the domestic. They both adored music and romanticized rural farm life.

As king, George III had the nickname Farmer George, a persona, which I have to assume was at least in part helped by that way that he liked to shout, hey, at the end of sentences. That seems sort of farmerly, doesn't it? But even more than farm life, George loved his children and his family. When his son Octavius died at age four, George the third wept, and when he recovered, he said, There will be no heaven for me if Octavius is not there. It would actually be George's siblings that disrupted his perfect domestic fantasy early in his reign. He had nine of them, and each seemed beset by unique tragedy or scandal. Within the first few years of being king, two of George's siblings died, one of appendicitis and one of tuberculosis.

George's favorite younger brother, his one-time confidant and best friend, had become a rake as an adult. He was a troublemaker, dabbling in opposition politics, drinking and womanizing, a disgrace to King George at court. This brother died suddenly in Monaco. And then another sister died, also of tuberculosis. His youngest sister, Caroline Matilda, who had married the King of Denmark, was arrested for adultery. Her lover, the Dr. Strunce, was executed. She wrote to her brother for help, and through political machinations, George III was able to arrange for Caroline Matilda to have a semi-respectable retirement in cell. But that wasn't all.

all of Georgia's siblings seemed insistent on causing scandal. Without telling the king, George's younger brother, Henry, secretly married a commoner, a widow. You have irretrievably ruined yourself, the king told his brother. After that embarrassment, in 1772, the king passed the Royal Marriages Act, which forbade any member of the royal family under 25 to get married without the monarchs explicit approval. If you watched season one of the crown, this is the origin of the conflict of Queen Elizabeth II, not allowing her younger sister Margaret to marry an older divorcee. Of course, as soon as King George passed the act, another one of his younger brothers,

William Henry, came forward and shyly admitted that, uh, for the past six years, he had actually been married secretly to a Cordier's illegitimate daughter. It was enough to drive anybody crazy. George's health struggles began when he was 24, just two years after he became king. One afternoon, in 1762, he started coughing. Breathing became difficult, and he complained of a constant stitch in his side. The court doctors murmured worriedly to themselves. The symptoms seemed to be similar to what George's own father had died up without warning a decade ago.

treatment would need to be aggressive. The king was blooded seven times, prescribed asses milk, and a laxative. The king was also put on a regimen of cupping over the next few months, during which a doctor would make a small laceration and then use a warm cup to create a vacuum over the wound to suck the blood out. In case you weren't sure, it is extremely painful. George recovered, but he suffered from insomnia. and quickened pulse for the next few years. Some people erroneously describe this period

as his first bout of madness, but that's not correct. There were no documented mental symptoms, just physical discomfort and even more uncomfortable treatments. Documented mental illness would emerge for the first time decades later, when George was 50 years old. In the intervening period, George III defeated France in the Seven Years' War,

which meant that Britain achieved global primacy as a world power, but it came at a heavy cost. The war had been expensive, and the cost of it led Parliament to raise taxes on the American colonists. I'm sure you remember where all this goes. I hope I'm not stating the obvious when I say, of course, King George III was anti-revolutionary. But his position wasn't despotic or egocentric,

or even uncommon in Britain at the time. George wasn't a mad king trying to rule the colonies so he could rename them all Georgeland. King George III was a rigid, traditional man who took the oath that he made during his coronation very seriously. At the very least, he saw it as his duty to defend Parliament's legal right to raise taxes whenever they so chose. It was less about absolutism, actually, than protecting the power of the parliamentary system. In Britain, Anti-revolutionary sentiment was the middle-of-the-road position, especially after the story of the Boston Tea Party made its way across the Atlantic Ocean. The rebellious colonists had destroyed a ship's worth of property and violently tarred and feathered the customs official.

What had the customs official done wrong? He was just trying to do his job. Most of the British population saw the American rebels as incorrigible, and King's, King George III was fully committed to backing Parliament's decision that Britain would take whatever action necessary to protect its officials and its property. Long story short, they lost the Revolutionary War. Mostly, for George III, it was just a humiliation. Catherine the Great wrote at the time, quote, Rather than have granted America her independence as my brother monarch King George has done,

I would have fired a pistol at my own head. The guilt and anxiety after yielding the colonies caused George III enormous angst. He drafted an abdication speech, planning on resigning and then moving to his family seat in Hanover, but he decided against giving it. Luckily, the economic sting of the American Revolution healed quicker than the emotional one for George. Under the Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger, the country's finances bounced back, and so George III tried to move on and put the past behind him. In 1785, George met face to face with the ambassador of that new country, the United States.

The ambassador was a man named John Adams. I will be free with you, King George said to him. I was the last to consent to the separation, but the separation having been made and having become inevitable, I have always said, as I say now, that I would be the last. the first to meet the friendship of the United States as an independent power. Life returned to relative normalcy for King George III. A normal life meant for him.

He ate a Spartan diet, exercised regularly, and even wrote about botany under a pen name Ralph Robinson. And as I mentioned before, he was incredibly domestic. To quote John Cannon in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, One of the remarkable features of George's way of life was his comparative lack of interest in travel. He never visited his Hanoverian dominions, although they were, at least in theory, very dear to him. He gloried in the name of Britain but knew very little about it. Scotland, Wales, and Ireland were ignored.

So was most of England. The royal family visited Weymouth for sea bathing, and when at Cheltenham in 1788, the king and queen saw Gloucester, Worcester, Tewksbury, and a few nearby manor houses like Maltston and Krum. But the Midlands and North were a closed book, as was the Southwest and Cornwall. He never visited the University of Cambridge, nor the Great Cathedrals at York, Lincoln, Norwich, or Wells. The explanation seems to be a certain lack of intellectual vitality, the problem of conveying court and family, and the king's preference for a routine and familiar again. existence. He really, really did seem to adore his children. When the time came to find his

daughter's suitable German husbands, King George said, I cannot deny that I have never wished to see any of them marry. I am happy in their company and do not in the least want a separation. But then, in 1788, something happened that put all talk of marriage to rest. Just a week after he turned 50, George III became incredibly ill, vomiting and unable to leave bed. This was in June. By October, he still hadn't recovered. He wasn't sleeping, had difficulty walking, and he was clutching his stomach in pain. His legs cramped, rheumatism plagued all of his limbs, and he was confused, occasionally lashing out with violence. But mostly he would just be a horse from constant talking. His words would make very little sense.

They would just tumble from his lips without pause. His mood was constantly agitated, and though he could barely stand up on his own, he rose and sat up and down frequently. By November, he was delirious, confused, and insomniac. There were rashes on his arms, bright red as if he had been beaten, and the whites of his eyes had turned yellow and gray. One of his more unusual compulsions was an obsession with a courtier named Lady Pembroke.

King George, who had been loyal to his wife for their entire three-decade marriage up until that point, started making explicit sexual comments to Lady Pembroke in public, who was a longtime family friend. He openly lusted after her and bad-talked the queen. But then periods of lucidity would return, and the king would be embarrassed and profusely apologizing. He had seven royal physicians treating him. Their best explanation for the baffling array of symptoms was that George was suffering from a humor in his legs and that it was his own fault because he had left

wet stockings on for too long. The physicians consulted and advised that the king moved from Windsor to the palace at Q so that he would have more privacy while he recovered. But the change of scenery did nothing to improve his condition. And so a specialist was brought in, Dr. Francis Willis, an Oxford-educated clergyman who ran an asylum. Dr. Willis's strategy for managing mental illness was intimidation, coercion, and restraint. His practice was based on the fundamental principle that mentally ill patients had to be broken in like horses. When King George ran, or misbehaved, he was physically restrained, pulled into a straight jacket, or strapped onto a chair that George would miserably refer to as his coronation chair. Word of the king's incapacity led to something of a political crisis.

The king was an old-fashioned conservative supporter of the Tories and their leader, Pitt the Younger. On the opposition side was Charles James Fox, a wig, who would very much prefer the more liberal. George the 4th to be in charge. Fox proposed a regency bill. After all, the king was clearly unwell, and all of the powers of the monarchy should be in the hands of his son, George the fourth. Pitt the Younger, knowing that he would be removed from office if George the 4th was given full royal powers, argued in favor of limiting the regent's temporary powers. It was an ironic reversal of political positions. Usually the Tories were the ones in favor of more royal power, and the Whigs were the ones arguing for limiting the role of the king. But while this issue was

still being debated in Parliament, it became moot. George III recovered before a regency bill ever passed. The people rejoiced to have their king well again, and Dr. Willis became something of a national hero, with coins minted and busts sculpted in his honor. The king, Farmer George, was more popular than ever. There were maybe a few combined factors that led to this increase in popularity. Maybe a little bit of pity after his illness. Maybe because the people were so relieved not to have to suffer that young, awful George the fourth actually becoming king.

Yes, maybe George III was a little old-fashioned, but he loved his wife and children. Domestically, he was above reproach. he had fought his hardest against those incorrigible colonies. It was an age of conservatism and domestic welfare, and their king became a living folk hero. When George III was bathing in Weymouth, a local band carrying their instruments all waded into the sea alongside him to play God Save the King.

A few years later, there was an assassination attempt when King George III was sitting in the royal box of the Drury Lane Theater, when a man in the pit stood on a box and fired two pistol shots at the king. The bullets missed by mere inches, embedding themselves in the wooden paneling behind him. George was so unanxious at this period in his life that he insisted that the show continue, and then he fell asleep during intermission. It was this sort of anecdote that made the people love him. There were a few short bouts of the so-named madness,

but nothing unmanageable and nothing that led to another regency crisis. At least not until 1810. It was a tough year to begin with. Early in spring, one of the king's sons, the Duke of Cumberland, was involved in the scandal where one of his valets was found dead, presumably by suicide, although the circumstances were grisly and mysterious and led to widely circulating rumors that maybe the valet had been more.

murdered by the Duke himself. And then that summer, another of the king's children became a cause of concern. His daughter, Princess Amelia's health, was deteriorating, and quickly. Her health issues had begun with pain in her knee joints, and she had been sent to the seaside to recover. But the summer of 1810, it became obvious that recovery wasn't going to be an option. She was dying of tuberculosis. St. Anthony's fire left her skin red and inflamed.

Amelia was confined to her bed, but every single morning at 7 a.m., the king summoned her doctors to report on her condition, and he required additional reports throughout the day, sometimes minute by minute, so he would be able to hear how his daughter was doing. The king's final public appearance was on October 25, 1810, the anniversary of his succession, He was distracted and anxious, and within days he was back to being treated by being restrained in a straight jacket again.

Princess Amelia died a week later on November 2nd. Before she died, she reached out to the royal family jewelers, Rundell and Bridgers, and gave them a jewel that they could make into a mourning ring for her father. The ring included a lock of her hair beneath a crystal, haloed with diamonds, inscribed in the band were the words, remember me. The king was inconsolable when he received it. The symptoms of his madness began again. The king would write long letters to his dead daughter Amelia, his handwriting a scrawl, words fully indecipherable. The kingdom was fairly optimistic that, like the bout a few decades before, the king would quickly recover and things would return to normal. But George

continued to deteriorate, his condition worsened by his advanced age and his grief over his daughter. Recovery never came. For the final ten years of his life, King George III lived in a world of paranoia and isolation. His symptoms were physical, too. His eyesight continued to worsen until the King was completely blind, and he was also going partially deaf. Believing that visitors would excite him, George's physicians kept anyone from coming to see him and prevented him from even the simple pleasures of conversation or even outings beyond the palace walls. George III spent his days speaking to imaginary and long dead figures, walking through the gardens, pretending to inspect invisible parades. He became a tragic

figure like something out of Shakespeare, a man shambling through the lonely halls of Windsor Castle with a long white beard wearing a purple dressing robe. He might have appeared to be a common madman had it not been for the order of the garter pinned to his chest, a reminder of the status and title he still technically held. In 1814, George III was officially declared the King of Hanover. His old family lands were finally recovered after a decade in other hands, but he was completely unaware of his additional title. He didn't know when his own wife died in 1818, and it seemed he didn't know himself either. George would spend long afternoons plucking absentmindedly at a harpsichord that once belonged to handle. This song used to be the late King's favorite piece, he said,

referring to himself. The Regency Act that has had been pushed aside 20 years ago, finally passed in 1811, and George V. 4th became the official acting regent for the rest of his father's life, ushering in the era that's now synonymous with Jane Austen, the Regency. On Christmas, in 1819, the king rambled incoherently for 58 hours straight. King George III died at Windsor Castle, the end of that January. It's sometimes easy to forget, especially in the context of the tragic end of his reign. But during his lifetime, George III was the longest reigning and longest living monarch, and to this day he's only been outlived and outreigned by Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth II.

Up until George III was over 70, there were fewer than six months of, quote, unquote, madness in his reign. Still, it fully colors his reputation. it became the most memorable thing about him, the tragedy of his vulnerability. The king whose throne became a chair with straps and whose velvet brocade became a straight jacket. Abused, isolated, and dismissed. Still the king. But what difference did that make? That's the sad story of George III and his madness,

but keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear about modern interpretations of his diagnosis. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHeart Podcast presents soccer moms. So I'm Leanne. This is my best friend Janet. And we have been joined at the hips since high school. Absolutely. Now a redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips, wider.

This is a podcast we're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey. With all the snacks and drink. Sidebar. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? Oh, they had a bogo. Well, then you got it. Do you want a white collar or something here? What are y'all doing?

Microphones? Are you making a rap album? Oh, I would. Come on. I would buy it. Cuts through the defense like a hot knife through sponge cake. That sounds delicious. Oh, you're lucky.

I'm not a drug addict. You're lucky I'm not an alcoholic. You are. I'm lucky I'm not a killer. I love this team, and I'm really trying to be a figure in their lives that they can rely on. Oh. Listen to soccer moms on the eye. Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Hello, gorgeous, it's Lala Kent, host of Untraditionally Lala. My days of filling up cups at Sir may be over, but I'm still loving life in the valley. Live on the other side of the hill is giving grown-up vibes, but over here on my podcast, Untraditionally Lala, I'm still that Lala you either love or love to hate. I've been full on over sharing with fans, family, and former frenemies like Tom Schwartz. I had a little bone to pick with Schwarzy when he came on the pod. You don't feel bad that you told me I was a bootleg housewife. I almost flipped a pizza in your lap.

Oh my God, I literally forgot about that until just now. Sorry, I don't want to blame alcohol. I got to blame that one on the alcohol. This is about laughing and learning when life just keeps on life in. Because I make mistakes so that you guys don't have to. We're growing, we're thriving, and yes, sometimes we're barely surviving. But we do it all with love. It's unruly, it's unruly, it's un-traditionally la-la.

Listen to Untraditionally Lala on the, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. It doesn't always serve us to retroactively diagnose historical figures, especially someone like George III who clearly suffered from some sort of mental illness. Given his obsession with Lady Pembroke during his early bout of mania, it became trendy in the shadow of Freudian psychology in the 1920s to cast George's illness as a manifestation of his sexual repression. But then in 1969, there was a breakthrough. Two doctors, Ida McElpine and Richard Hunter cataloged all of Georgia's symptoms and found that many of them, including the symptom of dark indigo urine, were in line with a hereditary illness

known as Porphyria, a rare disease that leads to neurological damage. Porphyria has been the pop psychology diagnosis for George's. George III for a long time, but most recent scholarship actually indicates that it's probably inaccurate. The primary symptom that pointed to Porphyria, the bluish urine, is actually a side effect of one of the flowers that George III was given as medicine. Gentian medicine is still used today as a mild tonic. Most historians today believe that it's more likely that George suffered from bipolar disorder or an otherwise undefined mania. But a diagnosis at this point doesn't really mean anything.

It's a parloric game. The far more interesting investigation, I believe, is learning about what George's life was like, exploring the symptoms of his illness, what they were, and what the treatment for his illness was, regardless of whatever you want to call it. Noble Blood is a production of I-Heart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. The show is written and hosted by Dana Schwartz

and produced by Aaron Manky, Matt Frederick, Alex Williams, and Trevor Young. Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble Blood Tales.com. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHeart Podcast presents Soccer moms. So I'm Leanne. Yeah.

This is my best friend, Janet. Hey. And we have been joined at the Hips since high school. Absolutely. A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips. This is a podcast. We're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey.

With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? They hit a bogo. Well, then you got it. Listen to soccer moms on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an IHeart podcast. Guaranteed Human.