Chicago, IL-In an effort to appease the perpetually deprived ego of men whose personalities can be distilled into the revving of a motorcycle engine, Harley Davidson has finally created a motorcycle those same men can have sex with.
“We realized that merely revving the motorcycle was no longer enough, sure it sounds really fucking cool and in theory it should get you laid a shit ton, but in reality most of these men were getting absolutely no pussy whatsoever,” said Frank Horvath, the designer of Harley’s new motorcycle, the Ham Beater V5000.
The name suggesting, inexplicably, that there were roughly 4,000 iterations of the bike before what is being called the Rolls Royce of masturbation forward motorcycles.
“The rider lays fully nude and flat on the cycle with toes pointed backwards, their assumed micro-penis can be inserted into a ribbed crevice roughly 2 inch deep. After a few pumps and a predictably quick finish the fluid is blown back into the face of the rider in an ultimate act of self-congratulations.” Continued Horvath adjusting his athletic shades and Affliction t-shirt.
The rest of us will continue to look on, unsurprised, with vague annoyance and confusion.
Indianapolis, IN-An Indianapolis resident is still struggling with the perceived fame that accompanies almost attending the open casting call for American Idol back in 2003. Phillip Biggins, the only one aware of this non-existent happening, now desperately attempts to stay connected with the less famous people surrounding him. Tethered loosely to reality by the indifferent applause of strangers in karaoke bars in Indianapolis.
“I’ll tell you what, I was damn close to registering for the initial round of auditions, I woulda’ made that competition spicier than the cocktail sauce at St. Elmo! Wooo!” screamed a tearful Biggins, after his fourth mediocre version of Hallelujah at Wild Beaver Saloon, Indianapolis’ best dam karaoke bar.
“Pro-tip tell the crowd your dog just died before the song and watch the applause roll in, sympathy is the key to any memorable performance” continued Biggins with the knowing grin of a crafty veteran. The audience surrounding the stage, having heard the comment, appeared completely horrified.
With a repertoire of somber songs, a persistence that affords him at least ten songs a night and a propensity for trying way to hard Biggins is the perfect celebrity hype person for any karaoke bar.
“He’s up there a lot…and he doesn’t really ever buy any drinks…Though I guess his version of On Eagles Wings is fairly tolerable,” said owner of Wild Beaver Saloon, Boyd Hopkins. Biggins maintains that he resembles a beacon of hope for the plebian customers, a karaoke mentor of sorts, a reminder that karaoke doesn’t have to be fun.
Hobart, IN-A boomerang video of a child being born has compiled 19 views from horrified followers. In what is being called the official deathblow to the wonders of childbirth, the video loop of the child’s head rapidly popping in and out with a backdrop of Shape of You by Ed Sheeran, functioned as the official birth announcement for one social media savvy couple in Hobart Indiana.
“We’re always pushing the limits on social media, last week we did a duckface selfie from inside of the toilet of a porta-potty at a construction site! It was hilarious!” said Cameron Holloway while reviewing the additional SnapChat footage of the birth, which featured various his filtered facial reactions instead of the birth itself.
Other ingenious social media efforts by the couple include: a time lapse video of a 45 minute poop, placing the SnapChat flower crown filter on a deceased person at a funeral with the tagline TFW Skrillex drops the beat way too hard and an engagement proposal while riding the roller coaster, Top Thrill Dragster, at Cedar Point during a vacation to Sandusky Ohio.
As social media continues to evolve, the suffocating frequency and objective stupidity will drown the few simple joys left in life and leave us questioning the sanity of friends and family alike.
Chicago, IL-A new fitness center located in River North of Chicago is causing quite the stir amongst the several wealthy people that can afford classes there. “It’s a community and a family, with absolutely no judgement, no pretense and a love for all walks of life,” said one member dabbing his forehead with a freshly caught lobster.
The boutique studio is known only as Theory X and is described as a tibata and barre hybrid with a splash of hot yoga and a garnish of spin with a colonic finish.
Each class is a wholesome, one of a kind experience, which occurs four times a day at hundreds of identical locations across the country. Tailored specifically to instill a sense of purpose, community and undying hubris that absolutely anyone able to pay $300 a class is more than welcome to enjoy.
“All members are required to wear brand new Lululemon to every class, with tags being heavily scrutinized, so the workout ends up being about $450 per,” said another member daintily sipping a slightly chilled acai infused Figi water, positioning herself for yet another post-workout selfie, the slight glisten on her forehead serving as a beacon of hope for anyone stupid enough to simply run outside.
“You can’t put a price on fitness though! Or instagram content for that matter!” Continued the member forgetting that fitness is objectively free. The promotion to buy 10 classes then also pay for the 11th, and then be locked into a 5-year-long blood contract has almost expired, so ask yourself…are you ready to #Theory?
Des Plaines, IL-Something incredible happened on Tuesday night of last week in the sleepy town of Des Plaines. Phillip Biggins, manager at the local Plato’s Closet, received a sign from Facebook. A digital Star of Bethlehem nestled in his newsfeed, beckoning him to post well wishes for his best friend’s birthday that would have otherwise passed unnoticed.
Biggins dutifully obliged to the tendering, as he always did, knowing that it was not truly a birthday, engagement, childbirth, or otherwise, until his generic affection was sitting lifelessly on the person’s wall. He clicked into the profile and recalled a lifelong friendship as tears began to form. Filled with profound trials, tribulations, adventures and the seamlessness of being true family, the bond between them truly was something to be cherished.
He had gotten drunk with him for the first time, caught the winning touchdown pass from him at state, and been saved by him from a pack of feral wolfs that had taken hold of the city back in 1997. What could be written to express his profound gratitude for it all? Then in an uncanny moment of clarity, it came to him, an acronym.
Nothing is more earnest than an acronym, especially when expressing an intricate web of human emotions. HB would be the technical acronym for Happy Birthday, though it didn’t have the right ring. Biggins stared at the cursor for several seconds wondering how he could make it more meaningful, something only he and his friend would understand.
Then it came to him, HBD, the D signifying day in the word birthday. Inspired. He proudly examined the uninteresting platitude once more before posting into the oblivion.
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-Chaos ensued last Saturday at the first annual North Roscoe Village Pigeon, Mussel & Fidget Spinner Street Fest when a Bastille cover band, that was hired to perform for anyone boring enough to attend a street fest, refused to play the dated hit “Pompeii”. The street fest started as most do, with physically and mentally mediocre people gathering to celebrate their ordinariness by paying to stand on smoldering asphalt and drink $8 Green Lines.
Thousands of people swarmed the street fest for their chance at eating a fly ridden, sun baked, Chicago River Zebra Mussel or a freshly slaughtered pigeon filet served on wilted lettuce for the people publicly declaring their gluten intolerance. The arts and crafts table set up for the kids was a nice addition according to neighbors. For the small fee of a $200, kids were allowed to collect the bloodied remains from the pigeon feast and make their very own pigeon bone fidget spinners!
All seemed well at the festival as moms wore chic, Instagram worthy headdresses crafted from pigeon feathers and dads took turns sinking each other in a zebra mussel infested dunk tank. The sun began to set and the late 2000’s cover band, which would serve as the highlight of the year for most of the pathetic festival goers, took the stage.
The band began to play what was assumed to be the only song ever created by Bastille, bellowing “Hey ay oh hey oh hey ay oh ay yo,” but as the crowd worked itself into a frenzy they stopped. “You know we’re not gonna play that pussy shit! We play Bastille deep cuts only!” screamed the lead singer at the restless crowd.
The entitled crowd screamed in agony as their perfect festival appeared ruined, several people ended their lives by way of zebra mussel to the forehead, knowing they would likely never witness a Bastille cover band play “Pompeii”. Others retreated, hoping to reorganize another street festival for next weekend featuring an Eiffel 65 cover band.
Los Angeles, CA-A sea of protesters enveloping the entirety of Los Angeles has officially turned violent according to sources. What was originally thought to be a protest involving either the corrupt nature of our current government administration, extensive gender inequality, institutional racism, or the systematic destruction of our plant, actually turned out to be a demonstration advocating the return of Brenden Frazer to the Mummy franchise.
In what is being called the largest protest ever recorded, nearly a third of the entire country migrated to Los Angeles to advocate the fair treatment of Brendan Fraser. According to protesters, the previously listed issues are trivial at best and generally have no impact on the human race as a whole. Whereas tainting a staple in American history like The Mummy franchise could have lasting emotional and physical effects on the country.
“Just put him back in the damn movie,” said one protester wearing a prosthetic that made his lower half appear like a scorpion. “The other stuff don’t matter, you think we have time to deal with that shit while the glorious name of The Mummy gets tarnished! I voted for Trump to prevent this shit!” he continued adjusting his Bluetooth headset.
As the protests wage on, solace can be found in America’s ability to create a united front against oppressive and imperative issues threatening to derail humanity.
Chicago, IL-The existence of a genuine friendship is most commonly rooted in years of significant life experiences, hilarity, hijinks and the unique happiness experienced in the presence of that friend. But one friendship has defied all odds and exists solely on the threat of at some point hanging out and complaining to each other via text about the infrequency of time spent together.
“We’re planned this SUPER fun girl’s night! We’re going to do a fancy dinner and then dancing all night and Instagraming the whole thing with its own unique hashtag!” said Nicole Cox already considering excuses for why they’d have to reschedule.
“I suggested the third week of June but she has improv that whole week, so she said she was free the second week of August, but I’m in Wisconsin Dells for a Dan Brown writing workshop that week, ultimately we landed on the third or fourth week of February 2025 #cantwait!” continued Cox shopping for the perfect little black dress that will never be worn.
The next 8 years will be spent meticulously crafting texts of excitement for the impending hang out and remorse that they both feel like they haven’t seen each other in forever. This will continue perpetually, reaching climax immediately before their scheduled rendezvous, in which one of them will inevitably cancel…much to the relief of the other. And the cycle will begin once again.
Fort Wayne, IN-In an effort to, once and for all, prove to aloof digital aquintances that she in fact enjoys the start of the weekend, one Fort Wayne resident posted a zoomed in picture of herself smugly drinking a beer on her couch with a timeless TGIF caption and respective hashtag.
“I love Fridays and people need to know that, to embrace that, I know that not everyone agrees but I’m putting myself out there!” Said Nicole Hall who after the picture was taken dumped the beer down the sink and entered into a 48 hour Netflix wormhole. Completely squandering said Friday and ensuing weekend. “Fridays are a big part of my personality.” she continued, seamlessly breezing over the absurdity in using a measurement of time passage as a personality trait.
Followers have found that Hall loves just about anything that even remotely resembles an opportunity to post on her favorite platform. With recent selfies celebrating flag day, reptile memorial day, jet pack day, sick day, drone surveillance appreciation day and Eugene Levy’s birthday among others.
As the onslaught of platitudes continue, followers remain vaguely uninterested by the perservance of posts and the ability to transform nearly any day into a celebratory selfie followed by obsessively analyzing likes.