Beverly Hills, CA-The famed reality television star, known primarily for euthanizing original thought and eliminating the country’s desire to collectively wipe their own ass, on Bravo’s hit show The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, has graciously given her first born daughter to a pack of wandering alpacas who had tragically lost their own daughter last month.
Delilah Belle Hamlin will be handed over to the San Diego Zoo this Wednesday where she will be slowly introduced to the alpaca family she’ll be spending the rest of her life with. “Alpaca’s can be very territorial and quite food possessive, but this staff is committed to working tirelessly until she is an accepted member of the Alpaca community,” said one of the zookeepers, adjusting his tranquilizer gun from afar as the two parties participated in a round of weary introductions.
The Alpaca family had lost its original daughter after a snowmobile stunt went horribly awry during the filming of We Bought a Zoo starring Matt Damon. Much like the American public, the loss of such a beloved alpaca greatly affected Rinna. More so than all-consuming gender and racial inequality, worldwide hunger and the impending destruction of us all by a lunatic president, righting the wrongful death of Suzy the alpaca took precedence and replacing it with a human reality star was virtually the only thing left to do. With the added benefit of maintining relevance for another 5 minutes in the age of endless consumption.
Tune in next week for the premiere of the new reality television series “The Daughters of San Diego Zoo,” and witness the trials, tribulations and ultimately heartwarming story of a girl being raised by alpacas.
Mundelein, IL-Strip club attendance has plummeted in recent years, as enthusiasts grow shrewder in the struggling economic environment and the invention of Pornhub forcing the regulars into hiding, existing only as a pair of eyes through worn shudders. That coupled with the ability to listen to Cherry Pie by Warrant on Spotify at virtually any point in the day has rendered the age old past time of pathetically sitting in the dark in a pair of soiled sweatpants all but extinct.
But one gentlemen’s club in Mundelein Illinois isn’t ready slide into irrelevance, like Jade on stage 9, that quickly. Aptly named “Moon Tits,” has rolled out an elaborate customer reward program that could rejuvenate the dying industry. Any customer that has a debilitating gout condition and spends over 40% of their salary at the club will be eligible for a BOGO cold cut sandwich with purchase of a pint of skim milk.
“People come for the women but stay for the cold cuts and skim milk here at Moon Tits, the only place where you can see tits in anti-gravity while enjoying a heaving deli sandwich,” said strip club owner Jake Fleming, pouring a massive glass of Dean’s.
So pop on your favorite pair of Champion sweatpants and Skechers Shape Ups and come out to Moon Tits for your chance at a glass of milk and a fist full of cold cuts.
Chicago, IL-The collective population of Chicago has reached a milestone 5th year of never feeling anything over “alright” in regards to physical or mental health. Whether in the process of getting a cold, having a cold, recovering from a cold, hungover, Sunday scaries, crippling boredom, seasonal affective disorder or allergies, residents are generally believed to be running at about 40% capacity.
Given the lengthy duration of feeling vaguely like complete butthole on any given day, the cause often becomes blurred and indistinguishable as the varying illnesses seamlessly transition. For instance someone huddled in a dirty quilt at your workplace hurling into a wastepaper basket may claim it’s just a high pollen day even though it’s mid-February and airborne allergens don’t generally cause the evacuation of your insides into a soiled pair of khaki pants.
Mild sniffles evolve into god splitting headaches and alcohol fueled bubble guts as weekday transitions to weekend and lingering hangovers grow harder to shake with each passing year. Allergies become the flu, which somehow becomes an existential crisis on a Wednesday in February, as it grows more impossible to determine which ailments are associated to their respective causes.
The city hopes that by increasing taxes, eliminating schools and bringing back the Chi Town Rising New Year’s Eve Extravaganza featuring a Fat Joe impersonator, that it can remedy the woes felt by its residents.
Hollywood, CA-The hit comedy Downsizing, featuring the sophisticated humor offering of examining how funny humans would appear if they were really small, has quite the back story and was almost an entirely different movie according to one Hollywood Insider. The original movie was allegedly supposed to be called Upsizing and feature an entirely normal looking group of people, save Matt Damon, who was set to have an enormous head which he would wheel around in a comically large wheelbarrow.
“Large heads are funny, but tiny people are REALLY funny,” said one of the writers involved in the decision to the change the title and look of the movie.
The plot remained nearly identical, except for the fact that Downsizing contained far less scenes of Matt Damon hilariously trying to fit his enormous CGI head through varying doorways and car doors. Downsizing also unfortunately lacked the human side of what was originally Upsizing, the trials and tribulations of doing a radioactive nitrous balloon and having that supernatural air make your head exceedingly large for the rest of your life.
We’re now all left wondering what could have been.
Chicago, IL-The sniveling, cherub faced fucking muppet wandering aimlessly around the train like a new born lamb, wrapped in his luxury Canada Goose parka, is undoubtedly on his way home to cry himself to sleep. His beady eyes and quivering lips, barely visible through the luxurious fur lining the oversized hood, reek of the type of despondency pacified only by the purchase of a luxury item.
Absolutely every feature and accessory is curated to appear spineless, a thousand lifetimes void of hardship or adversity. He’s not suited for the cold, or anything for that matter.
He rides the train with an air of contentment, periodically glancing up from his tablet sized phone to ensure that his leather messenger bag is positioned in a way that makes him look like a world traveler but also someone who burns the midnight oil at a well-known agency. He adjusts the laces on his chukka boots and perfectly tailored selvedge denim jeans.
Featureless and completely forgettable, docile, compliant, his possessions function as a personality of sorts. Perceived intrigue in an otherwise wholly uninteresting existence, he waits patiently for the moment he can return to his apartment, bury his doughy face in his pillow and weep until exhaustion sets in and he falls asleep.
Mundelein, IL-An area woman who has been spewing her uninteresting consciousness onto Instagram for unfortunate followers to lap up and occasionally give an obligatory “like” to in an effort to maintain a dwindling friendship, has come under fire after followers realized there was virtually no difference in her daily “vibes” posts.
In order to fill the momentary gap in which there is absolutely nothing else to announce, share, react to, or offer an ill-informed opinion on, one woman has resorted to posting a flurry of heavily filtered selfies with indeterminable, albeit emotionless expressions accompanied by thoughtless captions like “Friday Vibes.”
Followers became suspicious after every single day of the week’s vibe appeared identical, raising concern whether or not the person is a computer program attempting to convince the world it was human.
“People deserve to know what I’m feeling! Even if it’s literally nothing at all!” said the woman passively scrolling through an endless world of meaningless content.
(This in no way reflects the person below who vehemently opposes vibez pics, tho the picture was just too perfect not to use)
XSPORT Fitness, Chicago, IL-On Wednesday, a guy who looked vaguely like Girard Butler’s paunchy cousin during the 2007 shooting of 300 but perceived himself as looking like Girard Butler himself, offered up some ill-informed weight lifting tips to a woman who absolutely didn’t need them.
“Yeah, I finished huffing my pre-workout sock full of rubber cement and saw this helpless chick sitting on the leg press machine, and though I was seeing double and had never used the machine myself, I figured she would appreciate me interrupting her workout to explain how a real man uses the machine, someone who’s watched the movie 300 over 20 times,” said Terry Horvath, loading the machine with several hundred pounds in weights.
The conversation itself ended rather abruptly, just as Terry was explaining and demonstrating how the key to leg pressing was hyperextending your knees and locking them up at the top of the rep, said knees both exploded into a million pieces, Achilles tore like breadsticks in a goddamn Olive Garden commercial and melted onto the floor below and Horvath wept openly, screaming THIS IS SPARTA as the ambulance wheeled him away. One of the braindead trainers picked up the mess left behind and tried to sell it to another member as a great new way to build mass.
“Though I only got one rep in before my knees collapsed…I think she got the idea, she’ll probably ask me to take her to GNC soon, I know a guy that can hook me up with 5% off with purchase of a 300 lb protein jug” continued Horvath, during another week at rehab. Doctors say that with a lot of hardwork and a little luck, he may be able to walk again.
Chicago, IL-The polarizing, passion fruit forward juice and kombucha speakeasy with religious undertones has officially boarded up its windows after failing to capitalize on an indeterminable number of Chicagoans looking for something that oddly specific.
Passion(fruit) of the Christ, located in the heart of Logan Square, attempted the tried and true method of using a naming convention that involves looking at movie names, then molding an idiotic themed bar to fit that movie’s theme. See also the excruciatingly named Whiskey Business, arguably the most douche forward bar in the city.
“It wasn’t the $25 nuts and twigs shared plate with a side of Irish Catholic guilt or the $50 kombucha flight that did us in, it was the unwillingness for people in this city to accept something different, something beautiful, our interpretation of a 1300’s Roman Catholic, passion fruit juice bar,” said owner Grayson Horton, twisting his ironic mustache and taking down the massive crucifix crafted out of passion fruit rinds.
Taking its place will be a conceptual brunch and nightclub hybrid called Brunchback of Notre Dame.
Chicago, IL-An overdetailed work from home request that would have otherwise been promptly ignored, drew attention from several employees after noticing the graphic recounting of what had transpired to make the work from home a necessity.
“I ate a bowl of clam chowder that a homeless man offered me while I was trying to score some biker speed from a mutant ostrich under the overpass, long story short, I was puking out of my butt for twenty four straight hours, it’s all detailed in my work from home request if you reference that,” said Todd Mitchell, bringing up the calendar invite he had sent which details the happening in gruesome detail for the rest of his coworkers.
The calendar invitation was over 300 words long and contained pictures and illustrations of the toilet, which looked like a crime scene. All in an effort to validate a work from home that really needed no validation.
“I ended up describing everything in as much detail as possible, because a lot of people probably don’t really know what I mean when I say “shitting myself like the world was coming to an end”, hopefully they understand now,” continued Mitchell, comfortably watching The Price is Right for the third time.
Rockford, Illinois-A new NBC gameshow, transcendent in both idea and relatability, has been sweeping the nation since its highly anticipated debut on Monday night. Did I Shart My Pants or Nah? Is the newest hit game show that has brought the country to its knees.
Hosted by someone who looks like Steve Harvey’s brother and named Chip Crabs, the show involves married couples sitting in an elaborate contraption and exchanging farts, after each rip, they are required to guess whether or not their partner sharted their pants. Judges then check under garments for blowouts to determine if the guess is correct. Each correct guess earns them a crisp two dollar bill, with the potential to earn up to $60 in exchange for humiliating themselves on live television.
Several obscure critics who actually watched the show are calling Did I Shart My Pants or Nah? “A bath in the sewage of mankind,” “A fart filled romp,” and “Nothing can break up the week like breaking wind!” So tune in to Did I Shart My Pants or Nah? to find out which contestants will have to use the prize money to buy a new pair of pants!