Skip to content

Archives: Mar 2016

How to dispose of your unloved Easter rabbit

It’s been nearly a week since Easter, and everything has gone to shit. The kids devoured all the good candy, those Peeps you ate have joined forces to fight their way out of your colon together, and the live rabbit you bought on a whim is frightening your children with its wild mood swings. You’d better get rid of it before it poops in one of their mouths.

This informative news article will show you the fastest and easiest way to dispose of your Easter rabbit so you can get back to your normal routine of drinking quietly by yourself while your grade school children watch The Kardashians unsupervised. Enjoy!

Solution 1: Throw the rabbit in the garbage
In a best case scenario, the rabbit already died because you wrapped the Easter basket in cellophane and forgot to add air holes. While you can’t undo the screams of your terrified children on Easter morning, the cleanup itself is fairly simple. Just toss Mr. Floppy’s lifeless corpse in a dumpster. Make sure to choose the dumpster of a business down the block so the involuntary rabbitslaughter charges can’t be traced back to you. If there are security cameras, toss the dead Easter bunny to your neighbor’s dog instead.

DON’T flush Mr. Floppy down the toilet. Only the Kardashians and Daisy Ridley can afford sewer pipes wide enough for dead animals.

Bruce Springsteen writes tardy note for 9-year-old fan

Xabi Glovsky, a fourth grader from Los Angeles, went to a Bruce Springsteen concert on a school night and stayed out a little later than usual. Amazingly, Springsteen was gracious enough to write a note to bring his teacher in case he was late to school the next day:

Dear Ms. Jackson,
Who the hell do you think you are? I’m goddamn Bruce Springsteen, and Xabi Glovsky is gonna be late today. Don’t like it? Suck eggs. It doesn’t matter if he’s five minutes late. Everybody’s five minutes late to everything. But not everybody is a huge dick about it, Ms. Jackson. So are you cool or are you a dick?

Remember that time during the Super Bowl when everybody thought I was old but then I slid on my knees onstage and it was hella cool and everybody in the entire universe pooped their pants at once? That incident is one of many reasons why I’m so overqualified to excuse Xabi from school. I sang on “We Are the World”, sucker! Xabi is excused for the rest of goddamn eternity if I feel like it! That song went platinum four times, Ms. Jackson! Four times! I’m Bruce Springsteen!

I guess local humor columnist will just write another St. Patrick’s Day column

After paging through local newspapers, skimming celebrity gossip headlines and reviewing Facebook’s trending topics list, area newspaper columnist Paul Ryan will just write another goddamn St. Patrick’s Day column, he guesses. This will be the thirty-seventh St. Patrick’s Day themed column Ryan has written since 2002. The columnist said he’s completely out of ideas and “doesn’t give a single fat crap” anymore.

“To be honest, I’m completely flaccid right now,” said Ryan, pouring a fourth shot of breakfast scotch into a novelty coffee mug with “Writing Juice” printed on the front. “I’ve been limp for days. As soon as Sunday hits and that writing deadline gets close, I get hella floppy. Happens every week. It just keeps shrinking and shrinking, smaller every second until the writing is done.”

Ryan’s inability to get his writing up will lead him to yet again write a humor column involving lazy, stereotypical St. Patrick’s Day jokes about getting wasted and vomiting into objects that are comically pleasing. Regular readers – which include only Ryan’s parents and the newspaper employees who edit his work – will sigh loudly and skim the column so they won’t hurt his feelings if he references it later.

Distraught middle-aged person would really like to warn you about Trump

They’re waiting for you. You don’t login to Facebook much anymore, but they’re still there, patiently waiting. You’ll login sometime, and when you do, you’ll see one of the 17 neurotic panic-attacks they post about Trump each week. Facebook is middle-aged parents’ turf now, and they’ve never felt so alive!

No one’s sure of the exact time or moment that every boring middle-aged person in America became terrified of Trump. Perhaps it was his meaningless popularity in the recent primaries, an unrealistic desire to be John Oliver or the fact that pop culture takes considerably longer to reach the elderly. But the only thing crazier than Trump at the moment is middle-aged people who read too many clickbait articles on The Huffington Post.

“I’m done making comments about Donald Trump,” wrote VapeDad43, clearly lying. “But if we don’t do something soon, Trump will be president and ALL OF US will be RAPED by MISOGYNISTS and people who PEE in PUBLIC pools. Sorry if I’m being OBNOXIOUS but I feel like it’s MY DUTY to FIX THIS.”

Woman with broken cellphone hates people even more now

No matter who she’s with or what she’s doing, Jennifer Catanus is always staring at her phone. When it broke, she knew it would be a rough couple of days. She had no idea just how rough.

Like most human beings, Catanus stares at her phone for literally 15 of the 16 hours she’s awake each day. Like a blind person, she hears the people and events happening around her, but uses other senses to get around without looking up. With the phone gone, it was like her sight had been restored, and she didn’t like what he saw.

“Wow, there sure are a lot of mentally ill people on public transit,” said Catanus, nervous for the first time in four years of daily bus commutes. “Why the hell is that lady clipping her damn toenails? No one is confronting her. No one! Am I the only one who sees this?”