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A new survey by the Pew Research Center reveals what every person suspected, that most people who are self-quarantined during the coronavirus pandemic turn to the soothing tones of ‘80s band Toto to comfort them through the crisis.
“I got the news that my grandmother had passed away, but the gentle melody of ‘Rosanna’ dulled my pain like an addictive, black-market narcotic,” admits survivor Harper Collins. “Really, Steve Lukather’s whispery voice is as close to a miracle cure that we’re going to find. I mean, Grandma still died of corona, but then, she never owned a copy of Toto IV.”
Reader music critic Richard Thomas disagrees, rejecting Toto’s genius by saying, “Sure, ‘Hold the Line’ re-invented music as we know it, but if you’re going to listen to Toto, then you may as well listen to REO Speedwagon, and that way lies madness.”
After an uncomfortable pause, Thomas breaks down, admitting, “Toto saved my soul! It wasn’t just ‘99’ or ‘Africa,’ either! I even love the deep cuts! The deep cu-uh-uh-uh-uts!” He began sobbing as if he’d just heard that Jean-Michel Byron version of “Out of Love.” You know the one. Like, statistically speaking, you actually know the one.
Americans may soon wear “Impossible” meat-free clothing
Following the success of Burger King’s plant-based “Impossible” Whopper, scientists now believe that we may soon be sporting “Impossible” clothes made from plants, such as cotton or linen, instead of the slabs of uncooked meat that most Americans currently wear.
“Damn AOC wants me to go nekkid,” says local resident Drulen Moran, dressed to the nines in his cotto salami seersucker suit. “Well, she’ll have to pry my bacon belt off my cold, dead groin!”
Most people we asked agreed that meat-free clothing was a Leftist conspiracy, perhaps because we interviewed only those people on our Facebook friends list that we don’t know.
“I think it’s a plot by the New World Order,” says Feller Schiess, who says he’s perfectly comfortable in the skin-tight bologna biking shorts and plunging T-shirt made of chicken fat. “It’s just not a sunny Minnesota day unless I get all nice and rancid.”
Tara Hoelinmubut is also skeptical, standing outside naked except for the offal she smeared all over her body. “If you don’t love the smell of raw meat slowly melting off your privates, then go back to Venezuela, commie, cuz this is America!”
Grandma’s bathroom smells like potpourri, poop
Cloquet, MN. An olfactory reconnaissance of Grandma’s house reveals that the ground-floor bathroom radiates the aroma of a potpourri-poop mixture, say disgusted but intrigued family members.
“It smells like a spring flower garden, with just a soupcon of human excrement,” notes cousin John, standing beneath an inspirational macrame picture. “It’s as if you’re surrounded by lotus blossoms, jasmine vines, and magnolias, all of which were recently fertilized by a diseased person’s diarrhea.”
Half-sister Jamie agrees, noting, “The delicate cinnamon and lemon hues almost balance out the dank, wretched, lingering sewage smell of someone who forgot to courtesy-flush.”
She adds, “I don’t want to speculate on what Grandma’s been eating, but I did find several tins of cat food buried in the wastebasket, and she doesn’t own any cats.”
Woman middle-naming child Wayne makes him obvious sociopath
Ely, MN. A woman who recently gave birth to an 8-pound baby boy has given him the middle name Wayne, thus 100 percent ensuring that the boy will grow up with a criminal record, reports a disturbed hospital staff.
“To hell with society,” says Ellen Weels, mother of the sure-to-be felon, Harris Wayne Weels. “I like the name Wayne, cuz it rhymes with pain. So I’m going to make that his middle name, even if the city burns.”
Nevertheless, Weels says she will take steps to minimize the chances of having to post bail for the future criminal before he turns 21. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll beat him every day, so he understands that violence is not the way to solve problems. Hell, my baby daddy slaps me around every day, and I turned out all right. If domestic abuse is okay, then child abuse must also be acceptable.”
As for Harris Wayne Weels, hospital staff have reported that the infant never cries, just “smiles maliciously and cracks its little knuckles whenever we walk by.”
Face-lifted Kenny Rogers zombie looking pretty spiffy
Sandy Springs, GA. The resurrected corpse of Kenny Rogers, raised from the grave as a zombie by an infectious plague, is looking rather non-decomposed, perhaps thanks to years of plastic surgery to his face, as noted by his terrorized victims.
“He had blood all over his face from cracking open the skull of my jogging partner,” says local resident Trent Unn, “but honestly, I thought his face would be a late stage of decomposition, and he looked pretty much like he has since 2006 — which is to say, constantly surprised.”
Similar reactions came from victims of a late-night assault on a country home owned by Jed Sosuthern. “I really didn’t think he was a zombie until he started biting into my family’s heads,” he says, noting that, before the carnage, Rogers “stopped his rampage for a moment to take pictures and to sing a bar from ‘Lady.’ Even after eating our brains, I think that guy’s a class act.”
Woman uses husband’s “Dutch oven” to make tasty bitterballen
Mankato, MN. A woman whose husband often traps her beneath the bed sheets and forcing her smell his farts has turned the form of playful torture into a smelly opportunity, using her last imprisonment in the “Dutch oven” to make bitterballen, a traditional Dutch snack.
“When life gives you a fart, make it fart-tastic,” says Grace Yeppers, holding a plate of the Dutch-style meatballs that her spouse’s gassy ass helped heat to perfection. “If you’re going to be cooked in a confined space by toxic fumes, you may as well cook a delicious meal. I mean, they taste like farts, but Scandinavians put lutefisk in their mouths, so that’s not an obstacle.”
Unfortunately, upon closer inspection, the bitterballen appear to be day-old dingleberries, as Grace’s exposure to large amounts of methane have given her severe brain damage.
CDC: Ban book clubs of 10 or more lepers
The CDC announced new guidelines today calling for Americans to avoid holding book clubs that include 10 or more lepers, adding, “Even nine isn’t exactly ideal.”
CDC spokesman Dizz Cease explained, “I know it’s ‘hip’ or ‘groovy’ to have lepers at your book club, but we’re asking the public to sacrifice a little. Maybe just ease a leper or two out at a time, until you’re down to just a token leper.”
Book club president and anthrax sufferer Mildred Moldred did not take the news well. “Have you tried holding a book club with fewer than three lepers? The whole point is to drink wine and throw around loose body parts.”
Needless to say, all book clubs are suspended in Two Harbors.
Man still refuses to hug dog even though World Health Organization says pets are unlikely to spread COVID-19