Chicago, IL-A man of humble constitution was seen frantically weaving in and out of morning commuters as he attempted to commence his regular, shirtless morning jog on one of the busiest streets in Chicago. He definitely hadn’t been preparing his entire life for this moment. He definitely didn’t just hit L.A. Tan and certainly didn’t lightly mist his body with extra virgin olive oil for a perfect sheen.
There’s absolutely no chance he could have anticipated people accidentally gazing up at him as he pranced about while screaming the words left and right. His face contorting into an abyss of pain and anguish caused by a lifetime of eating $18 Açaí bowls and wearing only Lululemon. Decades spent perceiving himself as the messiah of leisure running.
He didn’t want any of this. He only wanted a seamless, half-naked jog on one of the most crowded streets in the city in which the pedestrians would simply stand motionless and worship his physique in silence instead of go about their normal daily routine. Inconsiderate little insects.
At least he can go to bed knowing that several people unwillingly looked at his nipples. Rest easy sweet prince, for you convinced several people you’ll never see again that you contain some moderate athletic ability.
Hollywood, CA-The 2010 comedy, Marmaduke, starring Owen Wilson and a CGI dog wearing comically large sunglasses was originally set to be directed by Francis Ford Coppola but after 20th Century Fox discovered a brutal execution scene planted immediately after a CGI doggy surf competition (complete with dogs barking the chorus of Surfing U.S.A.), the script was turned over to Tom Dey.
“The execution scene just wasn’t zany enough for us…we we’re thinking more along the lines of Owen Wilson farting and then Marmaduke tilting down his sunglasses as though pondering who the REAL dog in the room was…instead we got Owen Wilson beheading Marmaduke behind a shed after becoming suspicious that the dog was sabotaging his failing marriage,” said 20th Century Fox representative Bill Biscane.
The real problem with the plot twist was, that Marmaduke was effectively eliminated from the movie about a half hour in, which rendered all of the promotional materials completely useless as the final 3 hours of the movie contained virtually no CGI fueled hijinks.
Fortunately for us, Marmaduke was a visual masterpiece that warmed the heart of America.
Chicago, IL-A person with absolutely no more platitudes to offer about varying friend’s birthdays has hired New York Times best-selling author David Baldacci to pen a vaguely sentimental and undoubtedly lengthy caption to accompany a lifeless picture of a, now distant, acquaintance.
After several years of posts celebrating every national puppy day, national cry yourself to sleep day, national sibling day, national butthole day, take your goat to work day and every single birthday from a lifetime of formative friendships, Kristina Hodges finally had nothing left to say.
An entire deflating Instagram feed oozing oblivion like old Kikkoman bleeding from a rice heart at a Hibachi Grill in middle Indiana.
“Much like my novels, by rearranging a few words, you can make a one-of-a-kind birthday dedication for any friend. Forever my inspiration can be changed to My forever inspiration or Inspiration my forever, because ultimately no one cares, I employed a similar method to my novels Man Down Below and Below, Man Down!” said Baldacci taking a long pull from a Virginia Slim cigarette.
Hollywood, CA-Yesterday, the nutrient deprived, loose bowel movement of ignorance that Rosanne Barr managed to squirt out of her hate filled heart provided enough lubrication to send her entire steaming hot coil of a show into the eternal depths of an unmarked porta-potty in Northern Indiana.
Rosanne now begins her redemption tour. And the only thing that can bring someone back from the depths of ignorance and hatred is performing as a beloved, day-walking human hybrid who only hates one thing…vampires.
“Much like my show and myself, it will all be very tastefully done, the script itself was actually written by the kid from Two and a Half Men, very beautiful stuff!” said Rosanne, taking a discreet pull from a can of spray paint in a baby pool made of deli meat.
Her inability to comprehend that this is a terrible idea disappearing into the air with intermittent fart streams.
“Once I play Blade in the musical remake, all will be forgiven. Blade transcends race and his hatred of vampires is as patriotic as it gets! The country will have no choice but to forgive me for my obliviousness and ignorance!” continued Rosanne, slyly adjusting a pair of athletic sunglasses.
We are all witnesses to humanity’s final plunge into madness and despair.
Chicago, IL-The newest way to spend money that you don’t have in order to generate Instagram content and spare yourself from any type of self-reflection or original thought is officially here! Escape Hole is the newest player, in the luxury, leisure self-confinement industry. But unlike other escape rooms in which guests are forced to solve ill-conceived riddles with coworkers and family members they find tolerable, Escape Hole is the first ever solo escape room.
Guests are locked in a tiny room, containing only a baby pool filled to the brim with a combination of Heinz Mayonnaise, 2% milk and your choice of scented or unscented Vaseline. The room itself has a variety of burlap lined holes and crevices, each unnaturally small, for the person to strip down and try and birth through.
Unlike other escape rooms, you’ll feel the crushing paranoia of having to probe and prod the different crevices to find out which one you can desperately cram your flesh into to ooze out the other side.
But there is light at the end of the tunnel! If you escape successfully, your greased and scratched body will be spewed into the adjoining Fuddruckers where you can enjoy a heaving burger with other lonely, pathetic participants.
New Carlisle, Indiana-The dying toy industry isn’t done fighting yet. It won’t be mercifully put down like a Paddington Bear overrun with rabies behind the woodshed after a couple of 40’s of King Cobra. Its brain matter won’t be found on the sidewalk like a Furby after being bludgeoned with a sock full of quarters due to paranoia after smoking a cigarette dipped in formaldehyde.
No. It will continue to evolve and cater to the depravity of humankind, as evident in the newly minted Minions Fleshlight launched by Hasbro.
Licensed Fleshlights are generally reserved for porn stars, and or beloved glory holes, but because virtually everything in existence is branded or licensed, and because our species has devolved to a point in which this particular licensing seems like a good idea, die hard Minions fans will be able to finally prove just how dedicated they actually are. A gruesome game of a chicken to see who blinks first, the customer or the crudely fashioned Minions fleshlight.
“We saw a lot of adults oddly wearing around those idiotic looking Minions beanie hats, and figured why not stick with the times and absolutely fucking ruin something,” said Hasbro CEO Grayson Horvath stubbing out a cigarette into a an Angry Birds shrimp deveiner.
Cincinnati, Ohio-In an effort to preserve one of humanity’s most delicate and rare assets, the Cincinnati zoo has agreed to slaughter two giant pandas and replace them with the Walmart Yodel Kid, who will perform for zoo attendees if thrown the correct amount of petting zoo food.
“At a certain point we as humans have to shift to preserving what’s truly important, this was one of the easier decisions we’ve ever made” said head zookeeper Alphonso Knudson, blindfolding the pandas and preparing them for death by firing squad comprised of the zoo’s top donors.
An entire species can be forgotten if they can’t yodel in front of a bunch of drooling, phone wielding assholes at a goddamn rats nest in northern Indiana. The bastard child of Simon Cowell’s deadbeat second cousin. Someone born for a CBS reality show destined to fail.
“Prepare yourself you bastards!” yelled Knudson as the bullets rained down on the pandas and they fell to their anticlimactic death to the cheers of blood thirsty onlookers.
Fuddruckers, Hammond-A picture of several uninteresting clouds accompanied by the caption “dreaming,” offered absolutely nothing to the unfortunate community of people too cowardly to unfollow an Instagram user whose posts had driven many to the point of app deletion in recent weeks.
Tops of coffee mugs, heaven, pictures of menus, eating, squirrel, animal, close-up selfie of their forehead, living…all an uncanny airline snack mix of ordinary yet somehow oddly unfamiliar.
The swarm of content all fueling the only measurable happiness in life, dying with the most likes. As the yodeling Walmart kid once said, “Whoever dies with the most likes wins,” You momentarily look at the idiotic picture and consider the prospect of ending the cycle of obligatory likes.
But they liked the picture of the piece of shit art you made last week and the throwback you posted of yourself huffing duster with someone who looks like Tim Allen, so you begrudgingly continue the cycle.
A dutiful social media follower who takes their responsibility of exchanging meaningless likes very seriously.
Chicago, IL-A high importance email sent Monday at 4:45 p.m. was promptly ignored by everyone sent, cc’d and bcc’d on the communication. Like most high importance emails, which generally emphasize someone’s incompetence, lack of preparedness and inability to wipe their own ass, this one contained an extensive who’s who of indistinguishable business jargon and impossible deadlines.
The sender of the email beamed with the overwhelming pride of someone who has spent an eternity meddling in lower-middle management as they baptized the email with a high importance designation before casting the divine order it into oblivion.
The the red exclamation point accompanying the email would surely instill a sense of hope and ownership in the recipients who would soon be burdened with salvaging the rotting flesh dripping from the Times New Roman serif. Wouldn’t it? No.
In a cruel albeit oddly predictable twist of fate, the email was promptly disregarded. The exclamation point functioned like a rusted anchor, dragging it to the bottom of the bloated inbox, submerging it in the depths of purposeful neglect.
Never send a high importance email.
Glencoe, IL-In a desperate attempt to salvage another floundering Tinder date, one man tempted fate with a gutsy albeit savvy move. Something that according to Drone Enthusiast Quarterly, everyone woman craves. In some obscure circles it has even been considered the greatest peacock to ever exist…slyly dropping a certified drone piloting license while picking up half of the bill.
“The date wasn’t going great, I had to find an in, something universally relatable to any woman, then it hit me…recreational and semi-professional drone usage,” said Terry Adkins, scrolling through some unremarkable aerial footage from a singular vantage point in Rockford Illinois. The city appearing as all cities do when filmed directly overhead.
“It was really tasteful, very classy, I suggested splitting the bill like I always do, but as I was pulling out my cash, my drone piloting license accidentally fell on the table…looked totally natural,” continued Adkins, recounting the incident fondly.
Though the incident could have sympathetically ended there, as most dates do. Adkins insisted on a choreographed drone demonstration right outside the bar, something that would capture her heart and an aerial view of the top of her head. But before the majestic mating ritual could commence, the drone flew directly into Adkins genitals.
As he lay screaming in agony his drone ascended into the clouds above and his date stared up with a sense of longing.