Chicago, IL-A guy riding the CTA on Monday morning was spotted proudly wearing his big boy backpack. Originally thought to be an enormous goiter, because of his inability or refusal to place the object on the ground where it belonged, turned out to be a Jansport backpack filled to the brim with an outdated Encyclopedia Britannica edition.
“My mom wakes me up, wipes the dribble from my chin, then uses the same tissue to wipe my butt first thing in the morning, then she fireman carries me down the stairs and feeds me coco puffs, then she packs my backpack up nice and tight and lets me ride the train all day long!” said Colin Cummings, an object of hatred for everyone riding the train.
Cummings, a 35 year old strip club DJ intern of 10 years, says that wearing his enormous backpack on the train has given him the confidence he needs to DJ matinee sets at Industrial Strip in Hammond Indiana every other Tuesday. “When I wear my backpack I’m the center of attention, just like at the strip club! I see the ladies staring!” continued Cummings swaying obliviously.
Cummings existence remains an inconvenience for humanity as a whole, who can only find solace knowing that he’ll likely die alone and have a sparsely attended funeral.
Several Chicagoans got quite the unwelcomed surprise when arriving at their office and discovering that their umbrellas were covered in eyeballs, human hair and other assorted debris. Like most commuters they had all but forgotten that they were even a holding an umbrella as they hastily jabbed their way through the crowded streets. “I generally just open my umbrella right when I get out of bed in the morning and forget about it! Who wants the hassle of maneuvering that thing? By not thinking about it, I can keep it in one place and let other people do the worrying!” said Ashley Adams giggling as she shook some additional blood from her umbrella onto an unwitting coworker.
Several others around the office around the office followed suit, negligently shaking off hair and eyeballs much to the chagrin of the office cleaning staff. They all ended up having a good hearty laugh about it in the end. “When I saw that Ashley’s umbrella had blood on it again, I couldn’t contain myself, we all just started laughing! Then the hair on mine, it was the icing on the cake! I can be so forgetful sometimes, I noticed several audible thumps but just assumed it was the rain and not someone’s scalp!” said Allen Williams wiping tears from his eyes.
Being forgetful can be hilarious and zany especially when it causes direct grief on strangers, but it’s not all fun and games, at another office the mood was far more somber.
“Losing a massive chunk of hair that got snagged on umbrella wasn’t a great way to start the day, may even classify it as a full blown day ruiner.” Said a downtrodden Steve Jones who was on the receiving end of umbrella negligence. “On the plus side I’ve been getting pretty decent at parkour.” He continued as several others around the office nursed varying injuries.
As the rain continues to fall, the moral dregs come gurgling out of the stinking potholes and cracks, adding insult to injury to your soaking wet jeans.
Chicago, IL-On Monday, a generally incompetent coworker who had blown several deadlines prior and grossly mismanaged an entire project, smoothed things over by asking the candidate of their eventual wrath how their weekend was. Before the first sip of coffee of the morning was taken, the awkward interaction that would undoubtedly ruin the entire month was set into motion with an empty cordiality.
The sense of dread was already palpable as the contour of the coworker sidled into sight, casually adjacent to the end of the cubicle wall, its presence always suggested an unreasonable need or demand.
Neither had ever hinted at an even remote interest in the happenings of each other’s respective weekends which rendered the question even more unsettling. Like most office relationships, they tolerated each other at best and loathed each other at worst. Nonetheless the inquiry was made in a feeble attempt to camouflage incompetence with politeness and pacify the situation.
“Hiya,” said the coworker sheepishly, arms crossed over the top of the cube wall. “How was the weekend?” The shrillness of the question infuriating anyone within earshot.
Before a response could be mustered, a barrage of unclear, irresolvable and time sensitive demands rained down with reckless abandon. Like a swarm body blows in a prized fight chopping down the reigning champ and reducing him to a mound of bloody, whimpering flesh.
Fortunately because the soul crushing tasks were delivered after a vacant nicety, the coworker can retreat to her desk void of any remorse. In fact, encouraged by the start of a blossoming relationship.
Elmhurst, IL-Expressing gratitude for a lifetime of personal sacrifice and unwavering love is often manifested in the form of a cotton candy scented Yankee Candle. But this year one man living in a piece of shit Chicago suburb had other plans for Mother’s Day. Something unique, timeless and able to garner over twenty valuable likes on a given social media platform.
“Posted a pic of her on Instagram WITH a black and white filter,” said Phillip Biggins, with a look of excruciating contentment on his placid face. “I also did 500 words on how she made me the man I am today and how fucking sweet my life is right now. The only thing she has ever wanted in life is validation on a curated social media account in the form of likes from friends that have never met her,” continued Biggins scrolling through a swarm of completely identical Mother’s Day tributes.
When asked, Biggin’s mom confirmed she hadn’t seen the post, didn’t know what a post was, didn’t have an Instagram account and wasn’t aware what Instagram was or why she was being interviewed by a largely unknown surrealist culture blog in the first place.
“Oh yeah…did I mention the hand lotion from Bath & Body Works and the $20 Talbots gift card? #bestsonever #winningatlife #dadsandgrads” concluded Biggins huffing on his finger nails and polishing them against his popped collar, extra medium, Hollister shirt.
A couple eager to decorate their apartment with some homemade art were sorely disappointed after discovering the two paintings from their Wine & Paint class were not only identical, but also complete abominations. “I guess in hindsight we should have anticipated them being identical, but there was no way to foresee the gross over-estimation in our creative ability.” Said 29 year-old Robert Mansfield staring glumly at the atrocity in front of him. His wife’s was equally disgraceful, an embarrassing mess of excessive acrylics.
The night before they had deemed them their life’s work.
“We honestly thought they were pretty good…who wouldn’t want a painting of a ship and a full moon with the saying Swim to your Dreams under it…it seemed incredibly original to us, something to really make our apartment stand out.” Continued Mansfield with his head planted firmly in his hands. Him and his wife oblivious to the fact that there have been several hundred other versions of this painting made from the class in varying degrees of crappiness.
It took several weeks but the honeymoon phase with the paintings they had convinced themselves were somehow good finally ended one fateful Wednesday night. Rob described walking by the two paintings and having a moment of clarity that snapped him from his previous delusional state. “They’re really bad, I was drunk off red wine again for the first time since that night and finally noticed the ugliness; my stomach hurts looking at them.” Said Mansfield crudely jamming the paintings into the dumpster.
Not everyone snaps out of the delusion like Rob, hundreds of basic paintings hang around houses as we speak, so be weird and for the love of God don’t do wine and paint.
Wrigley field Bathroom, Chicago, IL-An area Cubs fan has been polishing his bathroom line material all off season and will finally get a chance to unleash his sophisticated comedic genius on other fans as they wait eagerly and painfully for their chance to piss butts to nuts in a steaming trough.
“People don’t just come to Cubs games for the baseball or the beer, they want the bathroom comradery! Nothing gets the line moving faster and keeps the laughs rolling like a drunken old man screaming incoherently about pissing habits,” said Rusty Mason, a life-long Cubs fan that is said to bleed Old Style and design Family Guy inspired Cubs merch in his spare time.
The loosely defined “routine” consists of one joke that is recycled from year to year after a culmination of blackouts ultimately render Mason’s short term memory obsolete.
“I’ve got a doozy this year! Guided by the hand of our lord and savior Gordon’s Gin and a sock full of spray-paint! If you shake it more than once, you’re playing with it! Timely, relatable and unique, checks all of the boxes for a good joke!” continued Mason blowing black mold from his handheld AM/FM radio.
Cubs’ fans can look forward to a season of aggressively staring into their iPhones in an attempt to avert eye contact with the snickering maniac seeking affirmation.
Hammond, IN-A couple who posted their customary soulless selfie, allegedly on another exotic vacation, has come under scrutiny from several Instagram followers. Though pointblank pictures of two swarming faces battling for real estate has become a mainstay in the account, this particular picture had an uncharacteristic glimpse of actual scenery. Nestled behind another indistinguishable close up of two smug faces was a rare hint of intrigue.
“I assumed I unfollowed them months ago, I guess the boredom ethered my brain into thinking it was just some sort of unavoidable sponsored content from LL Bean” said one follower scrolling without purpose.
“Something was different about this picture, it appeared as though they were actually at a tangible location…perhaps at one point even doing an activity,” said another follower indifferently.
Though the geotag boasted an already snooze worthy Caribbean bound Disney Cruise line, complete with Sleeping Beauty Honeymoon suite, the billowing chemical cloud and sewage ridden snow seen behind them suggested something far more mundane. The unmistakable signature of Hammond Indiana.
When asked, the couple admitted they had made a grave mistake by leaving even a morsel of the picture unmolested by their floating heads and that they were in fact in Hammond, touring the Lion’s Den: Midwest’s Largest Adult Bookstore & Lounge.
“Hey any chance you can help me move this weekend?” The sting is immediate, poignant and unrelenting. The atrophy on your soul is palpable. Words that can ruin a day faster than a sparsely attended funeral. The soul crushing text we’ve all received at some point or another. “It would be a big help and I’ll provide pizza and beer!” The exclamation point a sneering punch to the gut. Now your trapped, maybe they’ve already staked out that you’re going to be around this weekend. Maybe they’ve made the time they need help so obscure that you couldn’t possibly worm your way out of it. Or maybe they use the age old tradition of Irish Catholic guilt and strong arm you into doing their bidding, either way you’re helping them move. “Sounds good,” you write back begrudginly, just now noticing that you’ve shattered the pint glass in your hand that you’ve been holding.
Nothing better than the equivalent of $11 USD for an entire day of back breaking labor. Knowing that the room temp pizza will do nothing to remedy your slipped disk or jammed fingers will create enough resentment to last a lifetime. But wait! There’s domestic beer too? Well that changes everything! Having a couple of domestic beers that cost 49 cents total makes the 7 hours flushed down the toilet on a beautiful Saturday totally worth it. Very cost effective! Maybe if I can get drunk enough the swelling on my big toe, that you accidentally dropped a dresser on, will magically vanish. Yep, using my back to single handedly manhandle that armoir won’t effect me at all in 10 years and moving that armoir is something to be proud of…something to share with the kids. But it’s not just the memories…let’s not forget you’re receiving the ultimate form of earthly indulgence…Dominos and PBR.
So let that spine have it! Carry enormous pieces of furniture hastily up the stairs risking severe long term injury! Get into yelling matches with friends that make things awkward for several months after the fact. And by god…be sure to enjoy the grand prize of beer and pizza because goddamnit…you earned it.
The Kardashian’s contouring techniques have consistently taken the world by storm. Having your face look like a tiny nubile duck receding into the dark or a spray tanned pool ball melting under a heat lamp at Johnny Garlic’s are highly sought after skin adaptations. A method that combined with a selfie-stick and a flower crown Snapchat filter will make you look like the two dimensional airbrushed mall shirt you’ve always wanted to be. Though much like humanity as a whole, contouring is in a constant and necessary state of evolution. And a new contouring technique invented by Kim K could render the contouring you’ve always known as obsolete.
The new method is vintage, contrarian Kim, zigging while others zag. Smooth skin that appears sculpted from the finest of hardened Vaseline is so last year. Ground beef is all the rage in deep fashion circles this year, and thus Whopptouring is born. Whopptouring is an ingenious way to apply makeup and give your face the illusion of looking like Burger King’s signature burger. From the grey, flaking skin tags of imitation beef hanging on for dear life to the uncanny replica grill marks, your face will appear as though it was the bastard creation of a disgruntled high school student, who is trying to scrape together enough change for a depressing trip to 6 Flags Great America.
The graveled texture with pooling grease pockets will give your face that “neglected asphalt after a summer rain in Hammond Indiana” look that you’ve always been seeking. This being perfectly offset by the pitched black skid marks to give you that replica “straight off the grill” swagger. So transcendentally high fashion that it makes people physically ill to look at. Genius.
So, watch as Whopptouring becomes the hot new trend for winter and latches onto the world like a parasite dropping an enormous, stinking egg sack into on a fresh host.
Job interviews can be SO confusing. Other than obvious social ques, measurable cordiality and overall ease of conversation, there’s never any real way to determine what the person interviewing you is thinking. There’s a chance that a nugget of pure unbridled hatred is lying just beneath that shit eating grin. That maybe you won’t get to work in a nebulous role, churning out garbage that functions as a slight annoyance to everyone else in the department and a greater burden to humanity as a whole.
There’s a chance that you won’t even get the opportunity to grind away the prime years of your life buried in a sterile cubicle, threatening to pursue you’re dreams before quietly subduing them once more. Why take that chance!? The one thing every job interview is missing in the presence of a natural male enhancement energy drink. Use the steps below to land your dream job in minutes!
- Abruptly announce in the middle of the interview that you are both thirsty, tired and lacking
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- Take a long, concentrated pull from the can to the point of noticeable discomfort, allowing some of the viscous fluid to run down your chin combining with the sweat that has already been forming
- Place the can without coaster on the desk to show ultimate transparency and a dedication to multi-tasking, getting a job while also gaining girth
- Give a lengthy, clammy departing handshake, barely moving each of your fingers
- Wait for the job offer!