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.
Chicago, IL-In an effort to eliminate the possibility of being perceived as unfunny, one Chicago resident is resurrecting the reliable method of wearing a shirt promoting the internet equivalent of a soiled Maxim magazine: The Chive. “They took the British saying of “Keep Calm and Carry On” but replaced Calm with Chive…the name of the website,” said Phillip Biggins, cracking into Corona Light while enjoying a fresh episode of the Big Bang Theory.
The cleverness of the shirt is rivaled only by the allure of being someone that enjoys content, but not enough to actually read anything, appreciative of tired puns, and is a connoisseur of cleavage shots and thong pics.
“Anyone sees me out in this thing they know I’m all about staring at content! Hilarious! Who wants to hear some Wedding Crashers quotes? Anyone see the new GIF of that guy tranquilizing himself and cramming his junk into a microwaved watermelon full of Cabo Wabo? I’ll bring it up now!” continued Biggins whose personality consists of romantic comedy movie quotes and horrifying viral videos.
Biggins remains firmly single, romantically or otherwise, his elevated comedic sense has afforded him that much. And though he has no discernible individuality, at least the world knows he shares the same proclivities of hundreds of thousands of like-minded goons.
Winnetka, IL-Last Thursday a group of potential prom attendees made a decision that would undoubtedly cement the evening as the greatest thing they’ll do in their entire life. Unrivaled by any other achievement or significant life event, with a happiness that will never be experienced again, prom night 2017 will exist in infamy for an eternity.
“Me and my buddies weren’t even gonna go…then we said…what if we rolled stag? Automatically tight…Then I had this insane idea…what if we got our parents to rent a stretch Hummer for us…and what if we also had them buy us pastel tuxedos with top hats and canes…and what if we were all wearing athletic shades….” Said Terry Mitchell, visibly coveting the apparent novelty of the idea.
It’s not every night that you get to spend with several hundred other faceless dregs that you’ll never see again, so the key is creating enough resentment and embarrassment to transcend being mercifully forgotten about.
“We’ll be gods. Climbing out of that stretch limo four dudes deep, blasting Chainsmokers, maybe even sword fight with the canes! We’re all for sure getting laid multiple times.” Continued Mitchell, knowing damn well him and his friends would be retreating to an evening of PornHub solitude.
Three of the friends never made it into the dance, drinking to incapacity, severely pissing themselves and face-planting on the concrete in front of Principal Loesch…LEGENDARY. Mitchell made it into the dance but inexplicably trapped himself under the bleachers whilst attempting to retrieve a popcorn kernel, which he maintains was as historic as any lake house after party.
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.