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Weird friend still talking about election

Multiple sources have confirmed what so many Americans have feared: That Richfield, MN resident Todd Clarkson is still talking about the 2016 presidential election. The 24-year-old is the last remaining American still concerned that Donald Trump is the new Grand Wizard of our flaming tire yard of a democracy.

Americans – all of whom have totally moved on by now – were shocked that the convenience store worker didn’t have more important matters on his mind.

“Is Todd aware there’s a new Baywatch movie coming out?” said Fran Barkenson of West Virginia. “I feel like he wouldn’t be so disillusioned with the imminent death of America’s integrity and safeguards if he knew what The Rock was cookin’. Have you seen that guy’s biceps? I’ll bet he either has a huge dong or a super tiny one. I predict $30 million opening weekend based on moms wanting to see floppy PG-13 dickshorts. Even Putin can’t interfere with that! If he did, Americans wouldn’t stand for it.”

Even complete weirdos who voted for Evan McMullin and Jill Stein in November have completely shut up about the unending corruption and despair that’s about to consume our entire existence. It’s difficult to understand why stupid Todd won’t do the same.

Overly thoughtful gift ruins Christmas

Things were going fine at the Wu household. Just fine. The stockings were hung like Peter North, the tree was as decorated as Colonel Sanders, and Uncle Larry bathed himself in marmalade as he had done for the past seventeen Christmases. Yes, everything was downright dandy in the Wu household until Christmas morning, when Danielle Wu sent shockwaves through the relationship community by gifting a new cellphone to her boyfriend, Brandon.

“What the hell? That’s like $600!” said Brandon, a look of pure terror flooding across his face. “When did we make this jump? Are we engaged? I need time to ease into these big life changes. We overnight went from cute breakfast in bed gifts to shelling out half a grand for each other. Is she insane? We’ve only been dating for two years!”

Brandon was especially humiliated upon the reveal of his own gift to Danielle. Wrapped thoughtfully in beautiful tissue paper, the framed photo of the two of them at the beach was only $30, but the excellent presentation made it look to be worth at least $35. Brandon chose the photo because it shows off Danielle’s ample cleavage.

Well that escalated quickly

The workplace of Infinity Textiles was thrown into disarray this morning as the company announced it’s discontinuing employee HMO plans and only offering pricey PPO ones. CEO Chuck Woolrus flew into Minnesota himself to deliver the news, doing so in the most honest and efficient manner possible.

“Let me open by saying go fuck yourself,” said Woolrus. “There’s absolutely nothing you can do about this, so fuck you, fuck off, go fuck yourself and shut up. I don’t care about any of you or your dumb problems. If you have complaints, please toss them into a sack of honey roasted dicks and throw the bag and yourself into a ravine. Please hold all questions until I’ve left the premises. Thank you for your time, and also fuck you.”

HMO plans were $30 per month, but PPO ones will be a minimum of $174 monthly. Woolrus admitted he doesn’t like having to deliver news like this.

“I don’t like having to deliver news like this, mainly because it requires me to visit you,” said Woolrus. “I hate it here. This building sucks, this town sucks, and all of you are ugly. Super ugly. Your computers are old, which depresses me but not enough to buy you new ones. A lot of you look and dress as if you listen to Weird Al Yankovic cassette tapes in your car on the way to work. I feel absolutely nothing for you or your smelly hobo families. If you don’t like this, feel free to quit. We’ll just replace you with another person who looks like they listen to Weird Al Yankovic cassette tapes.”

Man eating pizza alone in darkened apartment had better Thanksgiving than all of us

“Welcome back home, honey! How was your flight?” said Fred Garvey, smiling nervously at his daughter across the dinner table.

“I fucking hate Trump,” said Brittany. “I can’t believe you voted for him!”

“Your mother and I didn’t vote, dear.”

“Not voting is a vote for Trump! You helped him win, you festering pile of dog shit! You and mom are the semen in Hitler’s dick!”

“We live in Oregon, Brittany. It’s not a battleground state. Are you ready for another crescent roll, or should we place it back in the fuhrer’s urethra to keep it warm?”

Reminder: Supermoon will cause erectile disfunction this week

The supermoon was out in full force Sunday night, the closest it will orbit to Earth in 2016. As we do each year, the Duluth Reader is providing this public service announcement that erectile disfunction, a normal part of each supermoon cycle, will be widespread this week. Please adjust your penis-related activities accordingly.

“Much as the end of daylight savings leads to darker evenings, the appearance of a supermoon leads to uncharacteristic erectile disfunction,” said scientist Braun Colby. “It’s a fact. It’s all very scientific and complicated, but it has to do with the tides, their distance to the moon and sciencey things like that. It’s perfectly normal and happens to every man, not just a few. It’s not us, it’s the supermoon.”

While difficult to explain without extensive charts and graphs far too complicated for this publication, the phenomenon is very, very legitimate. Every single man on the planet who attempts to copulate this week will find themselves devastatingly flaccid. No matter how much they try not to think about it or how many anti-anxiety medications they take to cure themselves of it, the best for which a man can hope this week is to achieve semi-limpness, like one of those inflatable wacky waving arm-flailing air dancers placed outside auto dealerships.