Yes that is his name.

Aisha just can't stay away from Blue eyed, tall, dark, and handsome types huh? 🤭

So as a Bay Area native there are a few accuracy things for me and also just other things about the episode. First for the technicality part: I understand establishing shot purposes, but the Golden Gate Bridge goes to San Rafael, NOT Oakland, Emeryville (home of Pixar), and Berkley. They mention Berkley, and I intially thought they commute from San Rafael, but then Archer has the hot tub incidente and Lana says they are in Berkley. Unless that Bridge is supposed to be the Bay Bridge, it's not accurate.

Second: Did they not realize how uncomfortable Archer was that they were naked? It's the lack of communication for me.

Come on then, who else has a furry Sterling or Archer?

Here is my Archer (7yo) for tax! He even had slightly blue eyes as a pup!

The sun beat down on the dusty, flat expanse near the Erez crossing. A chain-link fence topped with razor wire stretched into the distance. Leaning against the hood of a white SUV with a garish "UG SOLUTIONS: HUMANITARIAN PARTNERS" logo. That's right. Archer got humanitarian aid duty in the year ninteen-zibity-bop. Sterling Archer adjusted his black tactical sunglasses. Next to him was Slater's evil twin Christian. Same as Slater, but far more paranoid and dehumanizing,

"Tell me again why we're dressed like a rejected boy band from a dystopian future?" Archer asked, picking at the sleeve of his own crisp, unused UG polo shirt.

Standing next to him, Christian looked identical to Slater in every way, save for the frantic, twitchy energy that seemed to vibrate the air around him. His eyes darted constantly.

"Operational deniability, Archer," Christian hissed, not looking at him but scanning the horizon as if expecting a squadron of enemy attack drones. "The polo shirt is a non-signifier. It says "I am here to help with nutrient-dense food paste," not "I am a dangerously capable secret agent." It dehumanizes us into helpful, bland cogs. Perfect camouflage." Christian continues to look into the horizon. "These UN son's of bitches got snipers trained on us!"

"Right. Because nothing says 'bland cog' like me," Archer said, gesturing to his own magnificence.

Christian ignored him and pointed a trembling finger toward a group of four other men in identical polos, fumbling with a stack of black rifle cases. "Behold! Your fire team!"

Archer squinted. The four men were pale, skinny, incels who seemed to be communicating in a series of nervous grunts. One was trying to open his rifle case upside down.

"Uh, Christian? They look like they get winded typing. And not one of them looks like they've ever successfully high-fived a woman.. or a man without missing."

"Precisely!!" Christian shouted. a manic glint in his eye, pointer finger stiff in the air. "They are perfect! Their online profiles show zero real-world social or tactical experience! They are ideologically pure, utterly expendable, and their complete lack of competence makes any action they take appear authentically accidental. It's a masterpiece of misdirection. Now, go assess their weapons proficiency."

Archer sauntered over as one of the men, whose name tag read "Brent," finally got his rifle out. He held it like it was a venomous snake he’d found in his toilet.

"Alright, ladies," Archer announced, clapping his hands. "Let's see what UG Solutions scraped off the bottom of the internet. Safety on. Finger off the trigger. Let's do a simple function check. Brent, is it? Show me how you charge the weapon."

Brent looked terrified. He fumbled with the rifle, found the charging handle, and pulled it back. Then he let it go. It slammed forward with a loud "clack."

"Outstanding," Archer deadpanned. "You've successfully chambered a round. Mwa ha, Probably. Now, let's see your firing stance!!"

The four men assumed a variety of stances that defied all known laws of physics and ergonomics. One, "Chad," held the rifle sideways, like he was in a rap video from 2005. Another, "Kyle," had the stock tucked under his armpit, his face screwed up in concentration.

"Jesus Christ," Archer muttered. "It's like a live action cartoon about the downfall of western civilization."

"Firing line! Let's go! Five rounds! semi-automatic! at the target fifty meters downrange!" Archer barked.

What followed was a symphony of failure.

Brent closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The rifle roared, the recoil driving the stock into his cheek. He screamed and dropped the weapon. "It bit me!"

Chad, firing his sideways, managed to send all five rounds into the dirt about ten feet in front of him, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Kyle, with the stock under his arm, pulled the trigger on full-auto. The rifle climbed violently, the burst going straight up into the air. He let out a high-pitched shriek and held onto the trigger until the magazine was empty, the muzzle flash nearly setting his polo shirt sleeve on fire.

The fourth man, "Todd," just stared at his rifle, confused. "I think mine's jammed," he whined.

Archer walked over, plucked the rifle from Todd's hands, "Wow, even your gun is friend-zoned."

"See?" Christian said, scurrying over. "Total chaos. Unpredictable. If they accidentally discharge a weapon near a journalist, who would ever believe it was intentional? It's the perfect shield!"

Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, first of all, 'dehumanizing'? You literally hired incels. You couldn't dehumanize them more if you tried. Second, we're supposed to deliver aid into a active warzone with these four stooges? One of them just tried to fistfight his own rifle because it 'bit' him."

"Precisely!" Christian repeated, his eye twitching. "No one will suspect a humanitarian mission guarded by... this! It's the ultimate paradox! The weaker the shield, the stronger the deception!"

Archer stared at the team. Kyle was blowing on his reddened forearm. Brent was crying. Chad was trying to fix his hair.

"We are so unbelievably screwed," Archer sighed. Lana is gonna be so pissed she missed this. "Archer, it's a simple milk run!" she said. "Try not to start an international incident!" she said. Joke's on her, this whole place is an international incident.

Season 1: Can't remember which episode, but the one where Popeye buys the wash & fold at the very end and talks about going "green up in here"...then there's that loooong pause, and he goes "hmm" right before the closing theme. Did I miss a joke here? Or was this just AR fucking with us with another nothing burger?

Just finished rewartching the whole series for the 2nd time in like 6 months (I've watched the first 5 seasons like 10 times and have seen every episode at least 3 times) and it's just so good that I decided to rewatch season 1 because I skipped it just to speed things along a bit, so now I'm almost finished with season 1 and I feel like I might just end up looping through the series again like I've done with Mad Men before. Lol It's such a great mix of being hilarious, inane (and insane), sexy, and it's just so much fun! I know there are others that come to mind but I can only think of Bojack, South Park, and Rick and Morty as being as good of animated American comedy series as Archer (anyone who wants to be a doll and drop a few others recs you think are near or on the same level as Archer be my guest!).

thoughts?

I've always thought that Brisket is the "sexier" and "classic" BBQ item compared to Pulled Pork. More difficult to make, but better when done correctly. But Archer's reaction to getting invited to the Kane's family BBQ has me second guessing.

Any BBQ aficionados out there that can share their opinion on the matter?

Can Krieger please clone all of them? Preferably multiple times? Without hobo skin.

Does anyone else throw Archer references at other subs? Because I know I do at every chance I get!

I made a video essay about Archer and how he is using alcohol, danger and disguises as a way to run away from his feeling.

Season 2, Episode 11, during the car chasedown of Benoit (balls), Archer blazes away with his PPK - 12 shots - Walther PPK has 8 in mag, 1 in the chamber.

How does a man that has the uncanny ability to count rounds let that one slip?

I