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.
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.
Hammond, Indiana-The resident DJ at Industrial Strip located in the heart of buzzing Hammond Indiana, referred to as many as the poor man’s Atlantic City of the Midwest, made a grave error in judgement on Wednesday night. DJ Sticky Bootz did something unspeakable in the illusive realm of weeknight strip club DJs. Committing an act so heinous that he could be facing a lifetime ban from all strip clubs, titty bars, gentlemen’s clubs and any establishment that has a crudely fashioned glory hole in the greater Indiana area. Cracker Barrel’s not included. A loathsome betrayal of sacred strip club doctrine.
“It was a hell of a set, legendary really. But after his fourth run on Cherry Pie by Warrant he entered into a damn frenzy and screamed “Alrighttttt! How’s everybody feeling out there tonight?!”” said a visibly distraught Phillip Biggins, as he ordered another glass of 2% milk from the bar. The disturbing silence that followed the question still haunts the fibers in the inexcusable shag carpeting to this day. The woeful guests equal parts confused and enraged.
“We we’re all excited, Warrant can really belt em out and Jade was on fire on stage 11. But there’s no damn reason to make us well paying customers address our fragile emotional state, dwindling grip on reality, or sexual confusion we’ve been burying all of these years. Sticky Bootz was the face of Hammond…and now he’s a nobody,” Continued Biggins making a heavy adjustment to his thinning sweatpants. Biggins house will be foreclosed on Wednesday of next week.
A seemingly benign eye stinger in any other environment has leveled up into a truly substantial foe within the confines of a piping hot shower. Feeding off of the heat and using the steam as an energy source, the fart transcended into one of the most upsetting stenches in recent memory. Like a true Saiyan the aroma morphed several times from rotten eggs to microwaved garbage before evolving into its perfect form; a neglected petting zoo at a county fair in Hammond Indiana.
Born out of pure hatred the stink somehow smelled nothing like anything that was consumed in the last several days. A completely alien smell with a propensity for complete and utter annihilation. No nostril is safe from the wrath of the newly born Super Saiyan and the lingering effects of the Super Spirit Bomb it just dropped will haunt every crevice of the bathroom for weeks.
Steadfast Star Wars fans across the country are fuming over the recently released trailer for The Force Awakens and it’s not because of the lack of pod racing. “There wasn’t enough racist droids!” shouted die hard Star Wars fan Skeeter Nelson from the depths of his parent’s basement. “Goddamnit, if I know one thing about Star Wars it’s that approximately 90% of all droids on Tatooine were programmed to be racist!” he continued to whine, his voice suggesting a looming tantrum.
It’s not just the cries of a singular depraved man sleeping in a race car bed with confederate flag sheets however, as thousands of people echoed the opinion that it isn’t a true Star Wars movie without rampant racism. The idea that the movies primary focus was the perseverance of hope and good prevailing over evil went right over their heads. “If I’m going to spend my hard earned money on a movie it better damn well be relatable…this is NOT relatable, in the future I hope to own several racist droids…this trailer made that fantasy look pretty bleak.” said one angry Twitter user.
Others argued that the Millennium Falcon was noticeably absent of any Confederate flags, noting that Han did shoot first on Greedo so logically he obviously shared in their same asinine ideology.
We can all hope these bigoted oafs are satisfying themselves with the latest installment of Paul Blart Mall Cop thus leaving plenty of open seats for the rest of us to enjoy what looks to be a beautifully done Star Wars.