Laughing at Birds is talk with the edges left on. The host rarely pretends to have a plan. One recording opens with the confession that nothing got taped and the podcast is due tomorrow, followed by a joke about whether to deliver a tight 20 or a loose 30. Another, 'french toast', drops the excuses entirely and makes French toast the content. Eggs, ground cinnamon and a hot pan all get narrated with a small helper nearby, along with a rare moment of satisfaction over a bowl that fits: 'I like when something comes together. It doesn't happen often.' It signs off by promising that an actual episode is coming soon. Home life is never edited out. A child angles for candy too early in the day and gets offered cereal or pancakes instead. A five-minute errand gets recounted in detail, and when the host offers the other person in the room a chance at closing statements, the answer is a flat no. The subjects arrive in no particular order. John Wick's climbing bounty comes up, and so does the new Avatar, called heavy because of a scene in which a kid nearly takes his own life and nobody talks him down. A hockey game turns into a homemade over-under, strictly for bragging rights, since no money goes on it. Cannabis strains get ranked like athletes: gelato holds the top slot, while watermelon mac is putting up what the host calls Tom Brady numbers. A 'don't you know' accent, placed somewhere around Minnesota, sets off a run of openly immature what-ifs. In 'P vs V', a crude anatomical hot take is read aloud twice and loudly disbelieved. Not all of it is pure goofing. In 'Happenings', the host credits Shannon Sharp with asking good questions instead of softballs and argues that ribbing someone inside a joke is the opposite of excluding them, while allowing that some things still should not be said. Even that stretch stays scattered, with the host trying to reel things back to 'regular scheduled programming.' The language is profane from start to finish, and the humor often turns sexual. What comes through is less a produced podcast than an open microphone in a lived-in house.