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Archives: Mar 2017

Residents say Sunday liquor doesn’t taste as good

Many Minnesotans are cheering the new law allowing liquor sales on Sunday, but some complain that buying booze nearby just isn’t as fun as driving to Wisconsin and smuggling libations back across the border. In losing this time-honored inconvenience, Minnesotans worry they’ve also lost the intrigue that went with it.

“Now that it’s legal, this tastes like piss,” said Hank Crosby, age 56, staring forlornly at his can of Coors Light. “Driving drunk across that icy bridge on Sundays made me feel like a dangerous man. I suppose those days are gone now. I was once a bold rebel, now I’m just like the rest of these plebes. Sigh. I guess it’s suicide for me.”

Crosby put a gun to his temple and held his breath. The blood from the bullet’s impact sprayed across the case of Coors Light, making it look extra dangerous and bold. The local teenager who mows Crosby’s lawn found him later that afternoon and removed a modest 15 percent tip from his wallet before calling the police.

God rampages across Minnesota in retaliation for Sunday liquor sales

An angry, wrathful God has unleashed His fury upon the state of Minnesota this week, in apparent retaliation for a new law allowing liquor sales on Sunday. According to sources close to the deity, God is “super pissed” and is “shitting bananas” over the issue.

The Lord and Savior, who surprised everyone by being 388-feet tall, rampaged through downtown Duluth this morning, shaking the foundations of the Radisson Hotel’s revolving restaurant with His fiery kaiju breath. As the revolving sinners burned to ashes, God let out a mighty roar that reduced the entire block to rubble. Recent reviews on TripAdvisor, showing an average score of three out of five stars for the hotel, imply that it wasn’t much of a loss.

God’s loving embrace raged well into the afternoon, when God-nonzilla picked up a three-ton schoolbus full of children and smashed it into Fitger’s Brewery. This brutally wasteful act let loose a tidal wave of complimentary beer. Local alcoholics bravely rescued the children by entering the deadly tsunami and quickly drinking the city’s oatmeal stout levels down to a safe amount.

Courageous man refuses to acknowledge daylight savings time

The scent of tasty breakfast delights floats through the morning air. Crispy bacon sizzling on the grill. Mountains of warm, fluffy eggs with piping hot steam drifting off their summit. Soft buns glazed thick with sugar, ready to melt apart in one’s mouth. The delicious smells waft strongly through the mall food court.

All food kiosks are fully operational at 10am, except for one. The Cinnabon storefront sits dark and empty. Owner Walter Brown arrives and curses loudly.

“Where the hell is that peckerhead?” shouted Brown, teaching nearby children a new word, for which they are grateful. “I’ll bet he forgot to set his clocks forward for daylight savings time.”

“I don’t recognize your man-made time change, Walter,” said employee John Hauser, appearing as if by clockwork. “I’m right on time, both for Cinnabon and the universe in which our very concept of time is based.”

Mayor Larson making her own adamantium claws after watching Logan

After seeing the movie “Logan” this weekend, Duluth Mayor Emily Larson has reportedly sequestered herself in her basement crafting her very own set of adamantium claws from household items.

“Shit yeah,” said Mayor Larson, sewing 10.5 inches of crudely cut metal shards onto an old leather golfing glove. “This is gonna be so rad. I can’t wait to chop some vegetables when I make myself dinner tonight. Just try to stop me, Reavers! Rawwwr!”

Mayor Larson reportedly mumbled the phrase “I’m the best there is at what I do, but what I do isn’t very nice” to herself repeatedly while dicing the tomatoes.

The horrifically dangerous contraption has been loudly criticized by local high school shop teacher Kenneth Purham, who believes such things should only be made by licensed professionals who have years of experience working with fictional metal alloys. Purham confirmed that he would not allow such behavior if Mayor Larson ever enrolled in his class at Denfeld High School.