The holiday season may be upon us, but what started as a festive special on Kylie Kelce’s “Not Gonna Lie” podcast, celebrating its one-year “NGLversary,” quickly spiraled into a deeply personal, hilariously chaotic, and surprisingly revealing current affairs masterclass. In an episode where the professional mask dropped entirely, Kelce and her guest, global superstar Michael Bublé, laid bare the intense competitive obsessions, career pivots, and utterly relatable parental meltdowns that define their lives outside the spotlight.
Kylie Kelce, known for her candid, “real one” approach, set the stage by offering a raw glimpse into the domestic pressures of a modern celebrity parent. She launched her segment “Can I Be Honest” with a fiery critique of the ubiquitous holiday tradition: the Elf on the Shelf. Her family’s elf, Emmy Nemi, is officially dubbed a “deadbeat,” a sentiment that immediately resonated with parents everywhere struggling to keep the magic alive. Kelce’s confession wasn’t just about forgetting; it was about the utter lack of priority the chore held amidst the demands of raising four children. She spoke of the infamous “bogey condition,” where she and her husband, Jason Kelce, engage in a panicked, covert operation before their children wake up, whispering “the ELF” and scrambling to move the motionless doll. Kelce’s unvarnished advice to anyone contemplating the tradition: “f***ing don’t.” Her preference? Simple, practical, yet exciting gestures, like having Emmy Nemi deliver new toothbrushes instead of elaborate, messy pranks that a parent would later have to clean up. This unfiltered honesty—a mix of exasperation and genuine parental concern—is precisely why her show has garnered such a loyal following.
The Doom Scroll of Domestic Chaos
The holiday chaos continued as Kelce dove into her “Doom Scroll of the Week,” hitting on topics ranging from a heartwarming TikTok shout-out from viral sensation Judy to an unnervingly relatable post about extreme pregnancy cravings. She read a now-famous customer request for a pizza order so complex it bordered on the absurd—hand-tossed, extra pepperoni, extra cheese, banana peppers, jalapenos, half chicken, half mushrooms, half caramelized onions, half olives, and light sauce. The kicker was the husband’s note to the staff: “I’m a dude who has a very pregnant wife. I’m done questioning what she wants. I’m scared of her and honestly, you should be too.”
Kelce, a mother of four girls, connected deeply, revealing that while she was an aversions person rather than a cravings person, she was indeed a “mean pregnant lady,” horrifyingly so in retrospect. Her own pregnancy indulgence was a truly staggering quantity of Granny Smith apples and whipped cream—so much, she joked, that it would require six dumpsters to contain the refuse from one pregnancy. This admission served as an anchor of authenticity, cementing her status as a celebrity who navigates domestic life with the same flawed, emotional reality as her audience. She also candidly addressed her “love language,” admitting she dislikes receiving gifts due to a profound anxiety about having to manufacture the perfect reaction and disappointing the giver—a vulnerability that many who struggle with social anxiety found instantly moving.
The Most Shocking Confession: Trading Grammys for Glory
The conversation took a dramatic and unexpected turn when Michael Bublé joined the chat, ostensibly to discuss Christmas music and his coaching run on The Voice. The holiday crooner, however, immediately shattered his smooth, polished image with a stunning revelation about his private life: his intense, all-consuming obsession with fantasy football.
In a moment of pure, raw honesty, Kelce brought up a previous interview where Bublé had claimed he would trade his five Grammy Awards for a fantasy football trophy. When asked if the offer still stood, Bublé, without hesitation, reaffirmed the trade, fighting to contain his emotions. He proudly detailed his recent victory in the “Larkinada Guillotine League,” where players whose teams score the least are “cut off” (metaphorically, their heads are removed and printed on a t-shirt he now wears).
“I don’t want to get emotional right now,” he stated, before launching into a heartfelt, mock-acceptance speech, thanking God, Drake May, Rashee Rice, and, notably, Jalen Hurts. The intensity of his focus—managing nine different leagues—was a profound and hilarious counterpoint to his global fame. He revealed that his commitment has so dominated his Sunday schedule that his wife insisted they switch their church attendance to Saturday evenings just to protect his sacred football time. This competitive streak, hidden beneath the velvet voice, became the episode’s undisputed headline—a startlingly humanizing admission that the man who brings joy to millions is, at heart, just an intensely focused sports fan chasing a different kind of glory.
The Crooner’s Secret Pivot: From Sinatra to Sam Hunt
Amidst the competitive fervor, Bublé dropped another professional bombshell that is poised to shake up his career trajectory: he is secretly recording a country music album.
He explained his lifelong affinity for country music, seeing it as the “cousin of the great American song book,” akin to the music of Gershwin. Working with producer Dan Huff in Nashville, Bublé is crafting a “love letter to country music,” emphasizing an old-school, traditional sound—a far cry from his signature big-band sound. The excitement in his voice was palpable, transcending his usual professional composure. He declared the project the best musical experience of his life, stating he doesn’t care if only ten people love it because he feels he has “earned the right to make a beautiful record.” This revelation signals a major, personal, and passion-driven pivot for the artist, one that his global fan base was not expecting.
Four Children and the Unbearable Lightness of Chaos
The conversation grounded itself in the shared, overwhelming reality of having four children. Kelce, with four girls, and Bublé, with two girls and two boys, commiserated on the daily domestic “chaos.” Kelce described the transition from the manageable “man-to-man coverage” of one child to the overwhelming “zone coverage” of three or four. She detailed moments of resigned acceptance, like when she has to clean up spills while muttering, “that’s mom’s cup, don’t touch the cup,” only to watch the predictable downfall.
Bublé shared his father’s most resonant piece of advice, a perfect summary of their current lives: “Partner, the days are long and the years are short.” He reflected on how, despite the daily madness and exhaustion, he and his wife look at their youngest and wonder how they ever lived without her. The children, he said, are a “fundamental, perfect fit” that complete their family, transforming the pressure of creating core memories into a welcome privilege. Kelce echoed the sentiment, expressing amazement that she is “old enough and responsible enough” to have four children, yet feeling profoundly complete by their presence.
The Anatomy of a Panic Attack
In a final moment of astonishing candor, Bublé detailed the intense personal anxiety behind one of his most viral moments: the concert clip where he brings a young fan, who turns out to be an incredible singer, on stage. He confessed that when the fan’s mother aggressively demanded the opportunity from the audience of 25,000, he was instantly gripped by a full-blown panic attack.
He wasn’t worried for himself, but for the kid. “I was sitting here and now I’m bracing for full anxiety, panic attack,” he recalled, terrified that the 14-year-old would “suck” and that the public humiliation would create a lifelong, negative core memory. The subsequent viral moment, where the boy sings beautifully, captures Bublé’s genuine, overwhelming relief—not just joy, but the visceral dissipation of panic. It was a powerful, humanizing conclusion to an interview that, beneath the holiday cheer and celebrity glamour, proved that even global icons are navigating the same intense emotions and personal chaos as everyone else.
The conversation ultimately served as a celebration of the messy, unpredictable truths of life: the joy of a perfect family, the private anxiety of public life, and the startling realization that a Grammy winner’s heart belongs to a fantasy football league.
