Hollywood, CA-Ariana Grande just took the relationship that has captivated the nation by way of mindless content water boarding to the next level. The blitzkrieg of highly irrelevant happenings, which have been inexplicably force fed to the nation like a biscuits and gravy milkshake from Cracker Barrel, has officially reached a frenzy. In response to Pete Davidson’s tribute tattoo, Ariana Grande just unveiled a monstrous back piece that makes the guy from Red Dragon look like an absolute pussy. Omg! Steamy!
The piece itself is a lifelike candid of Pete Davidson taking a dump while reading the third installment in the Sisterhood of Traveling Pants series. Adorbz! Even more romantic? It was designed and executed by a Raven Symone impersonator at a county fair in Northern Indiana. Stahp! Just Stahp!
“I wanted to create a great piece of marketing content that would make me more relatable with the American public while also artificially moving our relationship forward, I’m really excited with how it turned out, I love when he reads Y.A. on the can!” said Grande of the monstrosity.
What will happen next in this blossoming romance? I’m sure you’ll find out whether you like it or not you piece of shit slob, so have this meaningless information push another childhood memory from your withering brain and enjoy!
-Characterless TMZ Reporter
Butcher Box is advertised as a local butcher’s hand selected meats shipped conveniently to your door, which would absolutely be true if the local butcher’s shop kept their meat in a deflating baby pool of old bath water behind an abandoned Cracker Barrel and the butcher himself was a Ted Nugent impersonator fucked out of his mind on acid who seemed indifferent as to whether or not you lived or died.
In some ways I would have preferred that to my experience, at least an Instagram with the right filter applied, playing in a pool of festering meat would have garnered a modest amount of likes from fellow beef enthusiasts. The prospect of dying at the hands of a fully nude Ted Nugent impersonator would make a hell of obituary as well.
Instead I waited an inexplicable three weeks to receive a box of sustainably sourced, barely cooled meat which I responsibly and soul crushingly tossed in the trash can. Farm to dumpster. A pasture in the heart of the Pacific Northwest trash vortex. An iconic celebration of goddamn waste. The chicken could have been used in a super soaker at a summer cookout.
The type of waste that is truly heartbreaking.
It was certainly an honor to flippantly throw away an entire box of animals and I’m sure they were just as grateful to give their lives for the sake of burdening someone with immediately discarding their corpses. I got a refund which is a plus, but goddamnit this is a Mickey Mouse operation.
Chicago, IL-The founders of the Pink Taco have done it again. Created a restaurant concept based exclusively off of a nickname for genitalia given by a guy who once gave Dane Cook a high five at a Fuddruckers in rural Illinois. Beige Log is set to open next month and will be located adjacent to Pink Taco, giving this city the food based sexual innuendo it needed to legitimize itself in the restaurant world.
Much like Pink Taco, Beige Log will serve up unmemorable food to the hordes of Chicago residents with no discernible personality, interests, or ability to recognize themselves as fucking losers.
The restaurant will be khaki forward, in the sense that everything served there must be of taupe origin and must be brutally minced into a grotesque log by the executive chef which happens to be a Bobby Flay sex doll. The first sex doll executive chef in history. We have progress people!
The flesh colored logs come in all sizes, each as boring and tasteless as the person consuming it. Slather up your whistle with a few $9 Michelob Ultras before making a boomerang of yourself suffering down the restaurant’s signature dish “The Dog Log.” And be sure to ask for extra knee caps!
This restaurant proves that no gender should be left out in choosing a horrific restaurant name, though it will still likely have a racially charged dress code. Because if you’re not wearing a pair of crotchless Lululemons, you certainly don’t have the social status to eat at the truly divine Beige Log.
Have you ever wanted to have a barbeque but didn’t want to deal with the hassle spending invaluable time with loved ones during your dwindling time in this world? D-D-D-Dying alone. Redd’s Apple Ale has your bitch ass covered! For a small fee, several total strangers will come to your barbeque dressed in Redd’s Apple Ale polos and create enough Instagram content for years to come.
Why talk to people when you could be competing in activities! Pants shitting. Instagram likes. Viral content. Not your grandfather’s influencer. Influence uninterested acquaintances!
You won’t be able to hear or see shit when your head is plunged into cooler full of ice cold water with several loose bottles of Redd’s Apple Ale floating about. Concussion like symptoms. And don’t even try and come up for air until you’ve wrangled one of those floating bottles in your mouth! The Redd’s Apple Ale employees won’t let you! Oops you’re drowning.
Chipped tooth anyone? It doesn’t matter because you’re shit canned on a drink that makes Zima look like Bacardi 151! Get laid, but not really because you’re a loser!Boomerang yourself swallowing a whole bottle and win a koozie! Cough up a combination of water and blood and get all the chicks!
Say goodbye to boring barbeques where friends and family spend time thoroughly enjoying each other’s company and say hello to Redd’s Apple Ale Extreme Meat Burn!
Rockford, Illinois-An e-cigarette and e-cigarette accessory store has created an offer that will submerge you in the illusive vape culture that has escaped so many. Rivaled only by the Free Masons in terms of barriers to entry and undying dedication, vape ethos has seemed impossibly distant to normal people. But VaperzParadize in Rockford Illinois is changing everything with their new vape starter kit. A kit that thrusts you into forbidden realm and gives you the tools you need to succeed at relentlessly sucking on a device that has roughly the same dimensions as a Capri Sun and filled with cotton candy flavored nicotine water.
VaperzParadize realizes that vaping isn’t just some transitory fad, it is a way of life. Something that defines you. To elevate the already predisposed assumption of sophistication that accompanies vaping, four completely essential items are included with all e-cigarette purchases.
- Fedora-Nothing accentuates four flaccid fingers awkwardly holding an e-cigarette like a fucking fedora. Pulled straight from Rob Kardashian’s new “Big Head Small Hat” line
- Criss Angel Master Mindfreak Volume 6 Blueray DVD-The only thing cooler than vaping is magic, more importantly not knowing how to do any magic, but being a celebrity magic connoisseur
- Blue Tooth Headset-Why bother holding a phone when you could be double fisting two vapes of differeing flavors while chatting with buddies about consuming loneliness and the prospect of being a failure of a father someday
- 10% off Tilted Kilt coupon-No real explanation needed for a 10% off coupon for a restaurant of this esteem. Buckets of domestics and wondering why you’ve been crying yourself to sleep for weeks. Also the feeling of cantaloupe flavored vapor delicately whisking a Wicked Boston Big Arse Burger down your cram-hole is completely unrivaled
So jumpstart your descent into the mist. Get the e-cigarette you needed not the e-cigarette you deserved.
Silicon Valley, CA-We’ve all seen the incredible ingenuity behind Untuckit, the New York based, men’s wear line which harpooned the fashion world by discovering that shirts contain the ability to be untucked. After decades of painstakingly studying Tommy Bahama and Life is Good, Untuckit was finally able to determine that paunchy men with no personalities enjoy remedying their looming depression by buying future landfill fodder.
Continuing in the tradition of waste, a contrarian brand known as Tuck It has birthed through a tower of skid marked jock straps in a characterless suburb of your choosing. Tuck It is a brand new shirt for men that fastens under the gooch, similar to a child’s onesie.
The patented burlap thong back fits perfectly into most sized butt cracks and because it fastens to the revolutionary “scrote-bag” in front, your shirt will stay firmly tucked in even as the rest of your life falls to pieces. As you look into the mirror at your deteriorating body and mind, you can at least take comfort in the fact that you purchased a shirt from a Facebook ad.
Imagine losing your wife and your job in the same day while still looking like the prideful asshole you are. So give up today and say Tuck It.
Chicago, IL-As formative memories dissolve through your thumb into a pool of blue light and the motion of endless scrolling, one shimmering vein in the suffocating coal mine of your head remains constant. A haunting tune lured out of hiding by tiny trembling fingers on an instrument that was born in a forbidden love affair between a flute and a goddamn tin whistle. The unwanted atrocity that was birthed would infuriate grade schoolers for years to come.
Loved only by the person foolish enough to try and teach 3rd graders music, the inexplicable obsession with the instrument could never be grasped by the students. The devotion to recorder maintenance, the torrent past of how the recorder came to be, the transcendant beauty it could produce if only it made a different noise when blown upon.
An unsubstantiated and blind zeal that was unsettling to everyone involved. Lowering their heads while maintaining uncomfortable eye contact with the class, they played their triumphant tune.
Nonetheless that plastic whistle with an engorged mouth piece and the only song anyone ever learned with it can still be found wandering the disintegrating, wallpapered hallways of your mind. Always seeking a glimpse at the outside world. Hot. Cross. Buns. Hot. Cross. Buns. One a penny. Two a Penny. Hot.Cross.Buns.
Hollywood, CA-The swimsuit portion of the Miss America competition has been euthanized, but the rest of the jaundiced, dying mess unfortunately remains on life support in a piss soaked hospital bed. It’s withered skeleton only able to haunt us with arbitrary programming and a title more meaningless than a degree from University of Phoenix. Queen of rot. Savior of disposable content. Crown of goddamn leaking Tide Pods.
The swimsuit portion of the show has been replaced by a lively debate section in which contestants exchange taking ten second pulls from a canister of keyboard duster and then debate whether or not a giant computer is screaming the words laurel or yanny. The new addition is said to be an enormous leap for humanity.
“We’re not fucking animals here, sure we’ll still be casting out rash judgements of women based on looks and a couple of idiotic questions, but at least now with the duster portion, we’ll be far more accurate and civilized,” said a waiter from Cracker Barrel who once served Randy Jackson and is now considered an infallible voice in the judgement of women.
As the event draws ever nearer, millions of Americans in soiled skid marked sweatpants will gather around their TVs to huff duster with their favorite contestants. Still objectifying people, but just in a different way.
Chicago, IL-A person with absolutely no more platitudes to offer about varying friend’s birthdays has hired New York Times best-selling author David Baldacci to pen a vaguely sentimental and undoubtedly lengthy caption to accompany a lifeless picture of a, now distant, acquaintance.
After several years of posts celebrating every national puppy day, national cry yourself to sleep day, national sibling day, national butthole day, take your goat to work day and every single birthday from a lifetime of formative friendships, Kristina Hodges finally had nothing left to say.
An entire deflating Instagram feed oozing oblivion like old Kikkoman bleeding from a rice heart at a Hibachi Grill in middle Indiana.
“Much like my novels, by rearranging a few words, you can make a one-of-a-kind birthday dedication for any friend. Forever my inspiration can be changed to My forever inspiration or Inspiration my forever, because ultimately no one cares, I employed a similar method to my novels Man Down Below and Below, Man Down!” said Baldacci taking a long pull from a Virginia Slim cigarette.
Chicago, IL-On Tuesday, an employee turned to the divine in an effort to sustain solitude whilst in the throes of a midafternoon ring piece onslaught after dabbling in a tray of Potbelly sandwiches, which were left out for an indeterminable amount of time.
“Once the door opens and the eager footsteps of a sniveling coworker become audible, there are certain desperate promises made to the Lord Almighty. Those promises are obviously exchanged for a moment of divine influence in which that coworker occupies anywhere in the bathroom except the stall adjacent to you,” said Bill Biscane, carefully turning his name badge over to maintain some level of perceived anonymity.
“My first born is not out of the question,” continued Biscane bracing himself for more carnage.
Like most people, Biscane is under the impression that, if there is a god, he/she/it would surely prove their existence by intervening in lifeless corporate bathroom scenarios. The perfect setting to prove their divine power and convert skeptics.
Unfortunately, the footsteps slowed and settled in the stall adjacent. Leaving Biscane sitting on the can pondering that he is in fact completely alone.