Washed Weekly: A Washed Summer
Unwritten rules and staying on top of your health.
Welcome to Washed Weekly — a weekly newsletter that will feature original columns, quick reads, exclusive product drops, and an offering of some of the best content we’ve created throughout the week that was. Read it, enjoy it, and pass it on to anyone you think will enjoy it, too. You can also check out the Washed network of podcasts.
20 Unwritten Rules of Washed Media For Our Summer Intern
by Will deFries
We got a new intern this week. He’s working Mondays and Thursdays. He’s a D1 chiller. That being said, he had that classic “first day intern” vibe where you can tell they’re feeling things out. I’m not even sure he took a lunch break which is classic Day One Intern behavior.
I get it. Our intern classes of old have set a high standard and have gone on to do great things. My absolute dude, Abhi, even has a dope-ass photography account on Instagram now. People barely even remember him shopping the Chubbies site while we recorded one day.
Anyway, to usher in the new blood to our office culture, I thought I’d put together a list of rules he can abide by in order to make his summer as successful as it can (and should) be.
If there’s a snack you like, eat it before it’s gone. It will be gone tomorrow.
Do not film Dillon eating his lunch (a dozen hardboiled eggs).
Don’t touch any light switches — we’re in the midst of our own cold war when it comes to which lights need to be on.
Don’t order a package to the office unless you want Randy to rip it open with his pocket knife.
Should the bathroom fan be on, shut the door completely even if no one is in there in an effort to mitigate office noise.
Don’t let the office wedge hit the carpet when you’re taking some practice swings.
Do not offer Dillon anything with sugar in it.
No matter how good or bad Dave’s snack runs are, you refer to them as “GOATed” no matter what.
Someone named “Sauce” will periodically stop in the office. Pretend he works here.
Don’t talk to or gesture toward Will if he has his noise-cancelling headphones on.
Brett has a charger that works on pre-USB-C iPhones. It’s red. You can use it.
If a sponsored product or piece of merch has been sitting in the office for over a month, please just take it. Please.
Don’t touch the remote control if golf is on.
Acknowledge Dillon’s good shots in GoldenTee; do not acknowledge his bad shots and near-misses.
If you sit at Will’s desk, do not adjust his chair — he will know.
Most of the slang terms said in-office are two-to-three months old. Disregard how dated they are and just go with it.
Sometimes there’s a kid that chills in the office outside school hours. His name is 7.
Do not under any circumstances eat something out of the refrigerator or use any of the sauces you find in the refrigerator door. It’s all expired.
Any of the non-Guinness beer in the refrigerator is yours as long as you’re of legal drinking age. Please consume away from the premises.
You won’t get fired if you puke in the sink. A precedent has already been set.
Let’s give ‘em hell this summer. Or at least get you some beer money and course credits.
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Thoughts From a Guy Who Just Had a Physical
by Dave
I had my yearly physical this week. Insurance covers one (1), for me at least, and it’s a good idea to make sure your numbers are dialed. Plus, it’s fun to make your doctor sit there and field questions after you listen to a Huberman Lab episode on peptides. Some doctors hate it, but I try to make the most of my appointments. Hell, I’m paying for it.
Not to completely HIPAA myself, but per the AI-assisted message I got in my patient portal, all my numbers are “in range.” That’s the extent of what they give you. No pat on the back for having badass hemoglobin. No Amazon gift card for an exceptional lipid panel. They give you just enough to keep you worrying a little less at night for the next few months. And as a respecter of medical professionals, I’m fine with that. I bet being a doctor in the podcast era is maddening. Know-it-alls pulling up with a notes app full of questions. Unfortunately, I am that guy. I am that demographic. 41, decently active, and way too online.
When the bloodwork says I’m good, but my shoulder is useless for 2 weeks after sleeping in the wrong position, I’m gonna look for an edge. That’s where I’m at. The doc said I’m just hitting that point in life where I might have to “drop the weight” a little bit and do more repetitions. That hit me hard. Like an orangutan at the zoo had fashioned a spear and stabbed me in the liver even though I’d been taking care of him for a long time. That’s how it felt. I’m not ready to give up the dream, Doc. I went up in weight on incline a couple months ago and it felt like I scaled Everest. I’m not in this to pass the time. Longevity is cool, but fitting into that large Millar in the back of my closet is cooler. I want quantifiable gains that I can casually work into everyday conversations with my coworkers. It keeps us getting out of bed in the morning.
Next thing you know he’s gonna tell me to stop chasing clubhead speed and to focus on keeping the ball in the fairway. No way, pal. I’ve already got one hybrid in the bag, and that’s where I draw the line. I’m not ready to shut it down yet. The way I see it, I’ve got at least 3 years before I just poking myself with testosterone. The numbers are in range! Did I secretly hope they were bad, so I’d have to jump on the juice? Sure. Most well-adjusted guys do. But that’s not how it played out. For now, I’m on my own, and I’m going to be fine. I’m lucky enough to be a healthy bloke who eats ribeye every time his wife goes out with her friends. I’m blessed. And if I have to mix in an extra recovery day to keep this thing moving forward, I can handle that.
Get a physical, tell the doctor if anything weird is going on, and keep it to a few pints on the weekend. Watch your sugar intake, wear a sleep mask, and raw dog the sauna a couple times a week. And if you find yourself eating six hotdogs over the course of 24 hours, it’s not the end of the world.
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“His name is 7” is some funny shit
Have we heard the sink puke story? Don’t remember that lore