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)
Rockford, Illinois-Nick Cannon has officially shut down production on the highly anticipated Lego adaptation of the marching band themed comedy Drumline. The Lego universe had previously found success adapting unlikely movies such as The Passion of the Christ, There Will Be Blood and The Legend of Bagger Vance, but there will be no such luck for Drumline after conflict arose surrounding the build of the drums themselves.
“Legos appear square shaped whereas drums are more circular,” said Cannon, slowly pantomiming the drawing of a square and then a circle. “If this was a movie about xylophones MAYBE, but there’s no way this will ever work!” continued Cannon as he stormed out of production in tears.
Feeding movie goers a beer can full of someone’s dip spit and backwash has been extremely successful in the past, with the most shining example being the inexplicable Pitch Perfect trilogy. But in this case Nick Cannon has heroically refused to sacrifice his creative integrity.
Instead Cannon will begin production on a Minions adaptation of Madea Goes to Jail, a far more challenging endeavor.
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!
Chicago, IL-On Monday, an employee who had spent Sunday like his last day on earth, decided to forego taking PTO and just gut it out. Bottomless mimosas at brunch had evolved into a flurry of Old Crow Whiskey shots and finally culminated in a goat shaped nitrous balloon and the butt bonging of a 24oz 120 minute IPA. But instead of taking a suspicious sick day or using a coveted PTO, Bill Naquin did something that will live in tedious corporate infamy until roughly Q4 of 2019.
“I figured that if I dug deep enough, I could find the courage to sit in a stationary position and stare at the blinking cursor of a word document for seven and a half hours,” said Naquin, recognizing that the task at hand wasn’t too much different from his normal daily routine.
Naquin’s ability to endure severe hangovers and remain continually ineffective at his job have landed him firmly in the world of corporate anonymity, as managers have noted his admirable adherence to the mantra: 90% of the job is just showing up.
“People should be really happy I legged this one out today, was touch and go for a while there after I skidded up my boxers while eating Panda Express. That cleanup ate up nearly half of the day! People seemed genuinely happy I was there though,” continued Naquin looking satisfyingly at an inbox full of unanswered emails, his coworkers looking on in horror at the sagging heap of skin crammed into the ergonomically correct desk chair.
Hollywood, CA-The unanimous titan of creating semi-outdated popular music compilations has made another splash in a thriving mixed CD industry which appears as timeless and lucrative as gold or silver. NOW That’s What I Call Music! will pioneer in a new, more sophisticated era of music with an album compiled solely of vuvuzela covers. The 72 minute horn epic will be conducted and curated by none other than famed jazz vuvuzela composer Bill Biscane.
“The fact that any morsel of pop music created in the last five years is microwaved bath water affords me certain creative liberties while doing vuvuzela covers, actually the dull drone of a plastic horn is more challenging than anything you’d hear on the radio,” said Biscane meticulously rearranging his collection of colored plastic horns.
For only four payments of $19.99 pop music fans can hear someone slobber on a novelty toy for almost a full hour as they repeatedly attempt and fail to wipe their own ass.
Critics are calling NOW That’s What I Call Vuvuzela Music! ”The complete realization of the deterioration of popular music,” “Something to listen to while taking a painful, nutrient deprived dump in your piece of shit apartment,” and “An album that a grazing herd of inbred goats may enjoy, which makes its popularity that much more alarming.” So buy the album today!
Chicago, IL-On Thursday, an already stagnant conversation was mercifully put down like a sickly hound after an area dullard managed to muster arguably the most lukewarm joke in history. The discussion, which had all of the vigor and sophistication of the lips and buttholes comprising hotdog filler, involved an article that one of the parties had read online. Taking this is a que to wipe the drool from his chin and offer something utterly forgettable, Phillip Biggins sprang into action.
“So I says to her I says…”Yeah because if you read it online it HAS to be true!” That coupled with a well-timed eye roll and a self-satisfying grin gets them every time!” said Biggins of the woefully boring incident.
The statement that has functioned as a historical crutch for people with absolutely nothing to say, but still find themselves compelled to contribute.
“When I saw the polite smile and her visibly trying to think of an excuse for how to promptly exit the situation, I knew it was time to extend the joke by saying “Everything on the internet is true!”” continued Biggins, fondly recalling her sheepish smile, ripe with pity.
Biggins retreated to his studio apartment later that night and fell asleep by himself watching reruns of Two and a Half Men.
The only thing perhaps more discouraging than the conclusion of another forgettable day of wading through an endless retention pond of incompetent emails, is seeing the eager grin of a canvasser standing firmly between your train stop and your house. The prying eyes and glowing iPad want nothing more than a quick hour and a half hour of your time, your credit card number, and a simple monthly payment that will process until you die. Certainly a decision best made after riding 40 minutes sandwiched between two fucking slobs on a pee soaked, fart filled CTA train.
Instead of succumbing to the corresponding heckling experienced if you walk by without acknowledgement or god forbid offer a slight nod and politely mouth “Sorry,” I’ve been telling these leaching insects that I have to poop. The conversation generally goes something like this:
Canvasser: Hi do you have a min…
Me: I have to poop, sorry
All consuming silence
Bowel movements function as the ultimate defense mechanism against anything you don’t want to do as there is virtually nothing to say or do if someone is on their way to poop. It can be assumed if you’re telling them about it, there is some sense of urgency or at the very least a regularity that needs maintaining.
Not to say donating to any cause isn’t worthy, obviously with the appropriate research, helping those less fortunate circumstances is a fundamental necessity for all humans. But being ambushed and then humiliated for not making a decision to donate, after a filthy iPad with a poorly made infographic is shoved down your throat on your way home from work is an entirely different circumstance.
Pooping freed me and it can free you too.
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.