Hammond, IN-There was an uproar at an unofficial Buffalo Wild Wings franchise, which turned out was just a tube TV, a case of keyboard duster and several live chickens under a pier in Hammond Indiana, on Sunday morning. As a group of inbred shit bags prepared to watch football, huff duster, skid out their undies and perhaps slaughter a few chickens, they quickly mistook an Arby’s commercial for the National Anthem and promptly removed any soiled burlap sacks resting on their heads. But one lowlife goddamn coward decided to kneel.
Doing duster and threatening a malnourished chicken in the same language those aliens used in Avatar during the anthem is acceptable, kneeling is strictly forbidden. Protesting correctly is no protesting at all. It means giving up. Succumbing. Settling. Protesting is eating a case of Slim Jims at halftime and pissing your pants because going to the bathroom is simply too much effort.
Fortunately the crisis was averted, because there was, in fact, no protest of the atrocities occurring in the country. As it was explained later, the man was kneeling in order to see up the skirt of a woman which turned out to be a mud sculpture of Steve Harvey. Thank god. Nothing to see here, just sexually harassing an inanimate object. Now who wants to continue to ignore social injustices and watch some FUCKING football you brain dead shit heads!?
Chicago, IL-An area man proved just how cool he perceived himself to be by posting a boomerang of him doing something that has been marketed as cool by the site Trip Advisor, a canon of sorts for the hordes of Life Is Good acolytes in search of a lukewarm adventure that could perhaps turn their spiraling life around. The boomerang has since compiled 11 views.
“Sorry for partying,” said Grayson Tipton-Murry, regarding the experience of sitting in an air conditioned, highly regulated environment, hurling dull axes at soiled pieces of cardboard. Him and his goddamn loser friends exchanging knowing glances that this is how our ancestors must have felt. Dangerous. Alive. Proud. Boastful. Instagram worthy. Filters. Influencers.
The boomerang itself adds more girth to the posturing shit log that won’t seem to finally die and mercifully go down the toilet. The constant competition of expelling enough goddamn waste to exist as a unique smear on the log before being engulfed and forgotten.
So have a Bud Light and boomerang the shit out of yourself axe throwing today.
I’ve been ALL about life hacks lately after a segment on The View revealed that smoking K2 synthetic weed has a similar effect to coffee if you’re feeling EXTRA tired in the morning. And once Whoopi Goldberg revealed the time she’s saved by shitting her pants instead of going to the bathroom, I was truly inspired! So when the opportunity presented itself to develop a game changing life hack while exiting a plane, I jammed a fidget spinner up my ass and started hacking!
Even if you’re at the back of the plane, getting off first is easy! All it requires is sacrificing your soul and becoming the sniveling little shit bag you always knew you were! Follow these quick steps and you’ll be off the plane in a jiff as the rest of the passengers wish death and disease on you and the rest of your family.
- Just as the plane touches down, start frantically moving your limbs about and nervously looking from front to back, this creates the anxiety vortex that should signal surrounding passengers you’re about to screw them all over
- Pinch off an eye stinging fart to create a diversion of sorts and maximize the amount of hatred directed toward you
- Consider and promptly disregard the fact that exiting the plane 15 seconds faster than the people in front of you qualifies you as a burden to humanity and an inarguable disappointment to everyone you know. But the sweet glory of saving 15 seconds make it totally worth it.
- Start creeping uncomfortably close to passengers in front of you, your stale peanut breath hissing into their ear and around their neck as you edge closer
- Skirt in front of them and stare like a goddamn aloof moron at the ceiling of the plane as the boos rain down
- Enjoy your 15 seconds like the shit king you are
Hollywood, CA-CBS is filling the slop pen back up in preparation to feed the masses again, with another heaving portion of unseasoned gruel that will leave people feeling physically and spiritually unwell, but still slightly better than they feel on a day-to-day basis.
Two Men documents the trials and tribulations of having no real opinion on anything in particular, but rather an ability to uninterestingly reference varying forms of internet content. Uncanny mediocrity mixed with a spineless allegiance to disposable content, these two men are ready to launch into a hilarious story about a GIF they saw on Barstool Sports last night.
An inability to form unique thoughts that transcends even having an arguably bad opinion on something.
Watch as two right skewing males spend an entire season offering grunts of approval to varying gifs and memes while trying to learn how to wipe their own ass. Terry Wiley played by Matt Leblanc and Will Vickers played by Kevin James will have you howling as they stare blankly into their phones before retreating to their bedrooms to beat off alone before a fitful sleep.
Critics are saying that the boredom is seizure inducing and are calling the show perplexing on virtually every level. So tune on Thursday and watch Two Men, because you’re too big of a goddamn slob to change the channel. Two Men…who needs women!
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.
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.
Hollywood, CA-After a disgraceful exit from network television, ABC executives met last week to discuss the future of Roseanne. In the meeting it was determined that the cardboard palettes of American’s dumb enough to watch network television needed to be cleansed. Washed over with another reheated, cereal bowl of skim milk and chased with a fistful equally hot cantaloupe innards.
It was time to truly show the country what the network stood for and create something that the country as a whole could cherish and call their own.
Enter Roseanne 2, ABC’s newest and most ambitious endeavor yet.
Roseanne 2 is set to launch next week and will star the only man 100% of American’s trust, Steve Harvey. Steve Harvey will star as Roseanne and, as such, has agreed to undergo a scalp replacement surgery with the real Roseanne Barr in an effort to capture the true essence of the character. Similar to the surgery seen in the movie Face Off, but fortunately limited to scalps only.
The horrifying monstrosity that is born will undoubtedly unite the nation with zany hijinks. Watch at Steve Harvey wheels around New York City on a Segway made out of deli meat pegging people in the face with full cans of Mountain Dew Code Red and drawing caricatures of rat families by the peer. And once a week, he’ll play a solo game of Russian roulette with a t-shirt cannon full of garlic knots from Sbarro.
So tune in now, because you can’t even wipe your own ass!
Chicago, IL-A man of humble constitution was seen frantically weaving in and out of morning commuters as he attempted to commence his regular, shirtless morning jog on one of the busiest streets in Chicago. He definitely hadn’t been preparing his entire life for this moment. He definitely didn’t just hit L.A. Tan and certainly didn’t lightly mist his body with extra virgin olive oil for a perfect sheen.
There’s absolutely no chance he could have anticipated people accidentally gazing up at him as he pranced about while screaming the words left and right. His face contorting into an abyss of pain and anguish caused by a lifetime of eating $18 Açaí bowls and wearing only Lululemon. Decades spent perceiving himself as the messiah of leisure running.
He didn’t want any of this. He only wanted a seamless, half-naked jog on one of the most crowded streets in the city in which the pedestrians would simply stand motionless and worship his physique in silence instead of go about their normal daily routine. Inconsiderate little insects.
At least he can go to bed knowing that several people unwillingly looked at his nipples. Rest easy sweet prince, for you convinced several people you’ll never see again that you contain some moderate athletic ability.
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-Yesterday, the nutrient deprived, loose bowel movement of ignorance that Rosanne Barr managed to squirt out of her hate filled heart provided enough lubrication to send her entire steaming hot coil of a show into the eternal depths of an unmarked porta-potty in Northern Indiana.
Rosanne now begins her redemption tour. And the only thing that can bring someone back from the depths of ignorance and hatred is performing as a beloved, day-walking human hybrid who only hates one thing…vampires.
“Much like my show and myself, it will all be very tastefully done, the script itself was actually written by the kid from Two and a Half Men, very beautiful stuff!” said Rosanne, taking a discreet pull from a can of spray paint in a baby pool made of deli meat.
Her inability to comprehend that this is a terrible idea disappearing into the air with intermittent fart streams.
“Once I play Blade in the musical remake, all will be forgiven. Blade transcends race and his hatred of vampires is as patriotic as it gets! The country will have no choice but to forgive me for my obliviousness and ignorance!” continued Rosanne, slyly adjusting a pair of athletic sunglasses.
We are all witnesses to humanity’s final plunge into madness and despair.