Hollywood, CA-The show Man vs. Food on the travel channel is seeking a new driveling slob to function as a beacon of sadness for all of humankind to relate to. The previous Man vs. Food host Casey Webb, who replaced the rapidly deteriorating Adam Richman, left the show after a dispute in his contract in which he refused to eat a rotting donkey carcass in front of a crowd of nude elders in a sauna at XSPORT Fitness. Though a week before he had consumed a cat turd off of a white hot hibachi grill, there are some lines that can’t be crossed.
“We’re looking for someone whose face can contort in such a way that the audience can visibly tell their organs are collapsing. Their eyes should be those of someone being held hostage under threat of physical violence if they don’t finish whatever grotesque bucket of slop we pile drive down their drooling cram hole,” said Man vs. Food recruitment manager Alphonso Knutson.
The turnover rate has been incredibly high for the host of the show as all prior hosts have succumbed to the same fate of a blown ring piece caused by a several month long fart.
“Someone who is discernably spiritually and physically unwell is the ideal candidate, extra jaundiced and oddly sweaty if possible!” continued Knutson using a plunger to shove an 8 lb burrito down the new hosts trembling lips.
Hollywood, CA-It’s been almost five years since the final Twilight iteration joined the ranks of disposable movies played on TBS on weekday afternoons, which means that it’s high-time for an unwanted and totally unnecessary, way-to-soon reimagining. The ravenous group of Twihards have been dormant lately, waiting to pounce on the next money-grabbing reheat.
But this isn’t just another shitty spinoff, what’s being called the sexiest straight to DVD release since American Pie: The Naked Mile, could stoke the romance flame for even modest admirers of cross-species love affairs. Appropriately named, Twilight: Justice, will also be the Hollywood debut of post-teens heartthrob, Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg starring as Jacob Black.
When Hollywood executives witnessed the intensity of her workout program along with her affinity towards aggressive weight-lifting supplements and her admiration of supernatural shapeshifters, they deemed her qualified to success Taylor Lautner as Jacob. Discovering that hidden under those robes was not only a champion of gender equality but also a set of oiled up, ultra-tan, hulking biceps resemblant of fully cycled Sylvester Stallone from Rocky IV.
Most of the movie is RBG ripping through the forest on all fours before shredding and eating varying members of a peaceful vampire society that had nothing to do with the original series. There isn’t much romance, or plot for that matter, in fact the only real romance to be found is between Jacob and the bloodied organs scattered after a fresh dismembering. Most of the scenes contain such graphic butcheries that the movie is currently only being sold at The Lion’s Den Adult Megastore in Rockford Illinois.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg is set to retire and begin shooting a Rambo First Blood Part II reimagining in 2045.
Hey you. That’s right you. You insignificant little odorless insect. Don’t you realize that not smelling like someone means you smell like no one? And smelling like no one means you smell like everyone…you simple unsophisticated plebian, how could you not realize that? Worry not naïve simpleton, because Johnny Depp is here to pimp his stink all over you.
Have you ever wondered what it smells like to be completely blacked out on fortified wine while playing guitar by yourself in an abandoned warehouse? What about the smell of not knowing a single chord and being unsure of how you acquired the guitar in the first place? Maybe the fury caused by this realization prompts you to buy a 5th of Gordon’s Gin, hastily apply smoky eyeliner and drunk drive into a haunted oil field. Have you ever smelled a haunted oil field? What about the smell of a dead cat that you had buried there 7 months earlier?
All of these smells and more are fully realized in Johnny Depp’s new cologne Sauvage. Sauvage uses a blend of ground up fedoras, scarfs, leather bracelets, discarded Mortdecai DVD’s and Smart Water to achieve a transcendent stench, only detectable by members of the Kardashian family. So slather up with this gamey, decomposing oil and be so cool you never get noticed.
Rotten Tomatoes: 14%
I entered the theater expecting to leave ugly crying after the ritualistic slaughtering of one of my favorite films of all time. I was wholly anticipating the same pain Utah felt when he blew his knee to spaghetti noodles and negligently unloaded a goddamn full clip directly into the air. The pain never came. Instead I felt my face being bludgeoned by a butt ton of extreme shit. The reimagining of Point Break will concurrently rip your fucking head off and melt your ring piece and anyone who gives a damn about inexplicable plot anomalies, alien dialogue or even a sliver of character development can sit on it.
Rumor has it the actors were placed in hyperbolic chambers before the movie; only able to watch Dragon Ball Z and do lines of Doritos JACKED 3D off of hunting knifes. This movie went back in time and made that 90’s brand No Fear popular. It ghost wrote Nookie by Limp Bizkit and told Gary Busey to order not one but two meatball sandwiches. It was the inspiration behind Jean Claude van Damme’s first splits. Vin Diesel sips his morning extenZ Energy drink to this movie, not because he needs the girth but rather because he enjoys the flavor and the subsequent uncomfortable amount of energy.
Point Break will make man-gazing an official thing. I’m almost positive I’ve never looked into another dudes eyes for more than 5 seconds without at least some spoken word or noise. In this movie there was so much gazing and so much corresponding deafening silence; it was simultaneously exceptionally uncomfortable and beautiful. Plenty of other awkward and endearing bro moments were also present. Like cooking a rustic meal together and holding hands before eating, or placing your hand on the back of another bros neck to make locking foreheads feel more natural. This being in the somewhat rare circumstance you actually find the need to experience conjoining forehead flesh with another person.
The reimagining had a perfect balance of new and old absurdities. A combination of subtle and not so subtle nods to the original that pays homage without being dependent. Bodhi is transformed into a perfectly crafted quasi-hipster d-bag and Tyler is a manic pixie dream girl, but they somehow seem like a natural evolution of the characters. Both pleasantly outrageous and flawlessly acted. Utah has hung up his cleats in turn for a motocross helmet and a shit ton of really bad tattoos, but goddamn there are times when Luke Bracey seems like he could have slid right into the 1991 original.
Hearing those wailing guitar riffs and oddly timed line deliveries took me right back. Having a belly full of an inexplicable combination of Rasberry Shock Tops and Parrot Bay didn’t hurt either. I felt as though I was a rebel in Bodhi’s crew as I courageously battled the urge to vomit in my popcorn bag on several occasions. My own stand against society. My way of giving back. Nothing like stoking the fire of an impending blackout by being completely overwhelmed by endless action sequences. So get a neck tat, grab a bottle of artifically flavored silver rum, butt funnel some Monster and go relish in everything extreme you coward.
A mass text sent to around 50 people that stated “Happy Turkey Day! Hope it’s a good one!” elicited no response from any of the included contacts. “I put a lot of thought into this mass text, it had to be perfect.” said Martin Schuster optimistically. “I couldn’t decide to use one or two exclamation points, I finally landed on two because I think that really captures that Turkey Day spirit!” Continued Schuster.
It can generally be ascertained that two exclamation points accompanied by a generic well-wishing is enough to convey sincere affection between humans, but this text somehow fell short. And though “Happy Turkey Day! Hope it’s a good one!” may seem like a deeply personal message tailored specifically to meet the emotional needs of each and every person on that 50 person mass text list; it was resolutely disregarded. In fact it joined the other genericized digital waste that traditionally plagues inboxes. Schuster remains hopeful for a reply nearly 9 hours after the text was sent.
“It must have been a really impactful text, I haven’t heard anything yet so people must be really reflecting on it. I’m just happy to have changed a few lives.”
A man filling a 64oz water bottle to the absolute brim, while the rest of the gym waits patiently behind him, has confirmed he could kick everyone’s ass in the gym if he really wanted to. “I could beat the shit out of everyone in this gym with a combination of rudimentary taekwondo and parkour if I really wanted to…but you know I don’t want to be a JERK or anything.” Sneered Blake McKenzie lifting his shirt slightly for a glimpse of his abs in the mirror. Blake has no formal training in either taekwondo or parkour. Standing in line is for losers, and losers clearly deserve to get their asses beat according to McKenzie, completely oblivious to the fact that he was causing the line.
The 64oz water bottle is vital in creating the perception that you’re working out way harder than anyone else, though coincidentally the time spent perpetually drinking and refilling detracts from actually working out. When McKenzie isn’t guzzling water or resting on machines, he’s idling around the gym leering at women working out.
“When I’m not refilling my giant water bottle or walking incredibly slow with my chest puffed, I’m looking at chicks BUTTS, I like BUTTS almost as I enjoy extreme hydration and ass kicking!” said McKenzie who has never been in a fight and is a virgin.
The water fountain line at the local gym is the one thing McKenzie has control over in his miserable existence.
After a discernibly benign holiday cup caused uproar across the country, Starbucks has discontinued the cup in favor of a cup that perfectly renders the reflection of whoever is holding it. The Cozy Mirror cup was created in an attempt to pacify the enraged customers by feeding into their gluttonous, insatiable egos. The launch of the cup has been met with more vitriol than anyone could have ever imagined. Apparently having to look yourself in the eye right before indulging in a cup of overpriced coffee isn’t as pleasing as anticipated.
“I literally hate what I’m seeing…I think I’m going to be sick.” said Jill Mitchell gazing deeply into the mirrored sides of a venti Caramel Macchiato. “I’m not sure what it is about this new cup…but it’s causing me immense and consuming sadness.” She continued. Other customers have voiced similar complaints, not being able to put their finger on it but finding something extremely dislikable about the cup. Some customers have described the experience to looking at Satan himself or some other type of depraved apparition. Though the experience differs slightly from customer to customer, everyone agreed they felt like “complete dog shit” after looking at the cup.
The cup that was meant to make everyone happy is causing existential crises across the country. Starbucks will soon start serving their coffee in Senor Frogs novelty cups, the absolute only thing that causes happiness.
The recent success of unremarkable Chicago based television shows like Chicago P.D. and Chicago Fire hasn’t gone unnoticed by NBC executives, and they’ve decided to push the limits of mediocrity to the brink with the newest drama, Chicago Transit. Chicago Transit follows retired train conductor Bill Biscane played by Ice-T, who is drawn back into driving Brown Line trains after an employee takes maternity leave. But what happens when he returns to the life he thought he had finally escaped? Will the incident that drove him into retirement continue to haunt him? Can his nerves hold up under the pressure of driving a moderately slow train full of customers with no expectations of punctuality? All of the questions and more are promised to be answered on Chicago Transit.
“We saw an opportunity to capitalize on the gritty life experienced by employees of the Chicago Transit Authority, the show practically writes itself” said NBC executive Steve Martucci.
Episodes include gripping plot twists like when a Brown Line is rerouted to the Red Line tracks because of construction. Eye opening discoveries like where the Pink Line actually goes. The joys of inexplicably turning the train into an Express, seeing the disappointed faces on a packed platform and the pain that comes with driving what is effectively a human toilet. Plus, the incident that changed it all…the haunting moment in which Biscane accidentally drove a Brown Line straight to Linden.
Critics have described Chicago Transit as “Heartbreakingly ordinary,” “As frustrating as actually riding Chicago public transit” and “Completely unnecessary”. So be sure to tune in to America’s newest #1 public transit themed drama.
Renowned fantasy expert Bill Biscane has boldly predicted that someone currently playing in the National Football League could either go off or do absolutely nothing for fantasy teams around the world this weekend. “Look…he’s either going to go berserk, do nothing, or do something in between.” Confirmed Biscane, a knowing grin forming across his face. Biscane has been making gutsy forecasts like this for years, forecasts that anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of the game of football could never make.
“Would I start him? Maybe but in that same respect maybe not. It’s really a complete 50/50 and depends on how your team is structured, the fear is that someone else could score more fantasy points, in that case I would not start him.” Continued Biscane adjusting a pair of nonprescription glasses.
With this kind of hard hitting analysis, it’s easy to see why they leave this highly esteemed profession to people who really know fantasy football. Watching football all day and casting out vague predictions is a difficult, gritty job but goddamnit someone has to do it. Having potential implications on an imaginary game is a responsibility very few can handle.
“Any player could do anything at any given moment, they could also do nothing…so in that sense every player is both completely startable every week and also completely unusable…do you follow?” Concluded Biscane, his voice brimming with confidence.
In an effort to capture every moment of a completely vacant life; Kim Kardashian has elected to have both arms replaced by selfie sticks. “There needs to be more selfies of me, plain and simple…this was the logical conclusion” said Kim looking seemingly thousands of miles into the distance. She went on to describe different looks and poses that people likely haven’t seen like brooding at a birthday party or duck faced sulking at a Lakers game.
“Having selfie sticks as arms will give me so much more range and because selfie sticks are so timeless…this is a decision I def. won’t regret, like ever.” Continued Kim through perched lips, unblinking.
The operation is relatively simple; it involves crudely fashioning two idiotic looking sticks into the shoulder sockets where the arms used to be. These sticks cannot be used for anything else but to take pictures that are angled upwards as though whoever is taking the picture has excessively long arms. Appearing as though you have a seven foot shiny arm is one thing; actually having one is something entirely different. Kim appears ready to make the leap, having already agreed to produce 1,000 more coffee table selfie books. There is simply nothing more artistic than a cheap plastic obstruction protruding from the bottom of every picture taken with a selfie stick.
Because the selfie sticks will render her unable to perform any basic human function, save creating disposable digital waste, there will be a team of butlers charged with feeding and dressing her along with plenty of other less glorious tasks associated with human upkeep. “The Kardashians have always been about creating jobs for Americans” mumbled Kim through pursed lips.
The true beauty of selfie sticks are that they make all of your pictures look completely identical while also inconveniencing everyone around you.