Hammond, IN-The Mighty Bits junior soccer team, currently ranked dead last in the 6-8 year old division, disappointed their loyal following yet again on Saturday after being left for dead by the Mini Cobras on a neglected soccer field in rural Indiana. Parents with hopes of someday seeing their kid get cut from a JV soccer team senior year in high school and never play soccer again, wept openly on the sidelines as the oranges they provided as sustenance at halftime somehow made the team even more sluggish.
The flood of sugar and acid on an empty stomach combined with the mouthful of ever thickening, unswallowable spit that an orange provides should have theoretically been enough to overcome the 10 goal halftime deficit, but most of the Mighty Bits team was left washing their sticky hands and faces with the tears of defeat after the opposition scored another 10 goals after half.
Several disinterested children received warnings from concerned parents after the match reached a it’s merciful conclusion. The parents informed players that the college scout at the game, which turned out to be merely a feral dog consumed with rabies, saw their terrible performance and would probably never give them an imaginary scholarship offer to play soccer at University of Phoenix online.
Some parents speculate that had Mrs. Connors splurged on the organic oranges, the results may have been vastly different. Several guests in attendance were taken to the hospital after being bitten by the apparent college scout.
When it comes to being a brooding, wildly misunderstood “sensitive hardass,” Vin Diesel is unrivaled. There may not be another in existence actually. Sure, at times it seems like it’s a robot struggling to learn human emotion and maybe some of his lines are delivered with the vigor and pronunciation of Sylvester Stallone after a swift blow from a sock full of quarters. But it’s that type of uncompromising nonchalance has earned him the right to have a kind of gasoline as his last name. How does one become a ruthless badass while still abiding by a complex moral compass? How can you be the most extreme man on the planet while also basing every single decision on family loyalty? How can you invoke both terror and tears?
Having a shaved head and being the physical manifestation of NOS is a start. Using melted down Stacker 2s as arm butter, wearing a white wife beater to your wedding and living your life a quarter mile at a time are more steps in the right direction. There’s something else though, perhaps more attainable and less questionable that may be the foundation of the bad boy persona. Something that won’t warrant an instant dismissal from your current place of employment or cause you immense sadness looking back on what was otherwise a beautiful wedding. The illusive genesis of being perceived as a threat to everyone around you is none other than…how you drink your beer. Scientists have worked painstakingly to extract this essence, and if you follow the steps below you too can drink beer like Vin Diesel.
- Drink exclusively Corona and belittle anyone drinking anything else
- Place thumb behind top of bottle with the rest of the fingers wrapped around the top of the beer, it should feel completely unnatural
- Hold bottle inches off of the table, and retreat completely inside of yourself
- Make small loose swirling motions with the bottle, moving the stale beer around in unison with the thoughts in your head
- Contemplate and cherish the concepts of family, loyalty and lifting for several seconds
- Glance up slowly from bottle with eyes fixated on nothing in particular, thousands of miles away
- Recite thoughtful but clever line leaving the person you’re currently talking with dumbfounded
- Smirk and lift the bottle to your lips, leaving your head completely stationary, your head should not move at all, the bottle can at times be tilted up to 90 degrees to deliver the last few morsels of beer
- Enjoy the incredibly mediocre beer as the person stands there, in awe of how completely badass and unstable you look
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.
Hammond, Indiana-A hangover that seemed like a manageable affair on initial onset has, within the confines of a twenty minute Uber ride, transformed into a terrifying examination of mortality and panic. The waves of nausea were angry that day, but nothing stirs the rotting excess in the belly of the beast like a 2005 Honda Civic with the heat blasting.
That and a driver who is hard-pitching a low-risk investment in his 3D printing company, are everything needed to consider the prospect of quietly passing away in the stained cloth seats without having made the slightest impact on the world.
The hangover swells to maximum strength as the driver asks about voting preferences right before admitting that a wall between the United States and Mexico may not be the worst thing in the world. Completely oblivious to the jaundiced insect, squirming helplessly for a position that will make it all go away. Its face suggests retching its misguided hopes and dreams with bile and gin, yet it suffers through one word replies, unable to seem impolite. But this hangover is beyond a simple vomit.
Night terrors. Unnatural tingling. A distinct faintness sets in and it becomes uncertain whether or not vital organs will remain intact or disintegrate into the floor with the uncanny amount of white dog hair. The 10 IPA’s drank last night may as well have been neglected Jacuzzi water out of a used condom. A steady sweat sits in and the gum being chewed transforms into vodka soaked aluminum foil.
Only 5-minutes have passed in a 20-minute ride and there’s no certainty of another solid bowel movement for the remainder of the year.
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.
Hammond, Indiana-On Thursday something special happened in Hammond Indiana. A family decided to break their tradition of Applebee’s Neighborhood Bar & Grill, in favor of the newly opened and somewhat controversial Ruby Tuesday. The shift in casual dining option was initially met with the same unrelenting skepticism as anything else threatening to disrupt the minutiae of the family wading through an uneventful life.
But as the meal progressed, the cynicism eroded, the family exchanged knowing glances and grins as they each unbuttoned their jeans to allow room for the Chocolate Goblet Sunday which they sheepishly ordered from the waiter. By the time the bill came, the family was baptized in a quiet contentment only found at fast casual establishments.
“Very reasonable,” said Roy Taylor patting his belly on the way back to the car. “I’d go back, I would definitely eat there again,” he continued in an exhilarating state of relief.
“Service was great, never had curly fries like that! Can’t believe they serve Blue Moon with an orange! I’d go back!” chimed in Nancy Taylor looking back at her kids who nodded in silent agreement.
Rockford, IL-An Illinois man who recently completed his transformation to indistinguishable white dude, by way of getting a high and tight WWII style haircut, confirmed that he is more heroic than his grandpa who fought and died on the beaches of Normandy in World War II.
“I never claimed that what he did wasn’t courageous, my existence just transcends anything he did or could have hoped to do,” said A.J. Lauder examining his impeccable frown and puffed chest in the bathroom mirror at
“Posing for curated Instagram pics is essentially the same as taking another man’s life to protect the freedoms your country allows, as is drinking buckets of Coors Light and matching hella chicks on Tinder. These dog tags engraved with Imagine Dragons lyrics, are actually made from spent bullet casings and tungsten steal, bought them off of a Facebook ad,” continued Lauder between rips off of an enormous vape pen.
Bravery isn’t measure by the ability or willingness to do the right thing in a dire situation, nor is it standing up for oppressed groups otherwise unable to do so…it’s a combination measurement consisting of how hard your fade looks after a fresh trim, the amount of pomade used on a given day and the ability to not crack a smile in even the most enjoyable circumstance.
Bravery is going to a barbershop, getting the exact same haircut as every other thirty year old dude and skimping on the tip.
Deer Creek, IN-Concert footage taken from an Eddie Money cover band at a matinee show at Deer Creek has been deemed sadder than Manchester by the Sea. The footage was taken, and posted gleefully on social media, by someone you went to high school with that remains firmly planted in your home town like an old oak tree draped in Pacific Sun and slathered in Hooters buffalo sauce.
The grainy video, taken from a Samsung Galaxy S3, surfaced on Instagram and functioned as a beacon of contempt to anyone who questioned the state of that person’s life. Taken from 600 level seating, zoomed in enough to see hints of the Eddie Money cover band on one of the video screens, and ripe with boastful hashtags (#bestlife #blessed #somuchfun #livinthedream), the video purposed for envy, instead instilled sadness.
The pinnacle of the last decade for this person, distilled into a 12 second Instagram clip, was arguably more depressing than a back to back feature of Faces of Death and Manchester by the Sea.
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.
Chicago, IL-A guy riding the CTA on Monday morning was spotted proudly wearing his big boy backpack. Originally thought to be an enormous goiter, because of his inability or refusal to place the object on the ground where it belonged, turned out to be a Jansport backpack filled to the brim with an outdated Encyclopedia Britannica edition.
“My mom wakes me up, wipes the dribble from my chin, then uses the same tissue to wipe my butt first thing in the morning, then she fireman carries me down the stairs and feeds me coco puffs, then she packs my backpack up nice and tight and lets me ride the train all day long!” said Colin Cummings, an object of hatred for everyone riding the train.
Cummings, a 35 year old strip club DJ intern of 10 years, says that wearing his enormous backpack on the train has given him the confidence he needs to DJ matinee sets at Industrial Strip in Hammond Indiana every other Tuesday. “When I wear my backpack I’m the center of attention, just like at the strip club! I see the ladies staring!” continued Cummings swaying obliviously.
Cummings existence remains an inconvenience for humanity as a whole, who can only find solace knowing that he’ll likely die alone and have a sparsely attended funeral.