Dateline, February 20, 2017. From the Ouija board that summoned the spirit of President William Henry Harrison:
Oh for crying out loud, America.
You HAD IT. I HAD IT. After all this time, after all these centuries, I thought you had finally elected a president atrocious enough to lose his job quicker than I lost mine. After 176 years, I truly thought I would no longer be the shortest-reigning president of all time, because Donald Trump would easily be impeached and fired within, like, a week. Maybe even less! Finally, I wouldn’t have this stupid 30-days albatross around my bony, rotted neck!
And YET … here we are, 30 days later, and Trump is STILL your president? There’s … no hope for me, is there? Barring some freak twist of fate like, oh, HOW I DIED, I’m never losing this damn record, am I? You really are a bunch of morons, America, you know that? I can’t believe I spent several weeks of my life leading your dumb asses.
This is Part One of my “I Can’t Clickhole” series, where I take headlines I wrote when attempting to get hired by Clickhole, and turn them into full articles. This will either convince you that Clickhole’s missing out, or they totally dodged a bullet. Hopefully the former.
Still think adventurism is dead? Still convinced that today’s youth would rather waste their days playing phone games and Playing with their Boxes at Station X, rather than hike the steepest trails or climb the tallest mountains? Well, have we got a faith-restoring tale for you, as 11-year-old Boy Scout Jacob Moonhouse just spent seven days and six nights not at a Hilton, but camping alone in the wilderness thanks to his entire troop leaving him behind! Talk about building character!
First off, Mr. Mad Scientist, thank you for calling off the dogs and allowing me into your top-secret foodporn lair. But was the billy club to the head, chloroform-laced burlap sack, and iron maiden full of tranquilizer darts really necessary?
Oh, of course it was! After all, nobody needs know where I do my work. They only must know that the work is done, and that it is oh-so-delicious and oh-so-shareable.
Well, that is certainly is. Though it is a little jarring to receive these constant, sometimes several-times-a-minute reminders that, no matter how many lunges and crunches and burpees and hot yoga we do, we are all so, so incredibly fat.
Good science is rarely comfortable, my fine, drugged-out friend.
It’s 2075, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg, for the tenth time that week and probably thousandth time that year, raised her head up to the heavens (or, as close to it as her withering, cursed body would allow these days) and cried out — fine, croaked out — “why am I so alooooooonnnnne? Why must justice require all these empty chairrrrrrsssssss?”
Originally published on Zug.com (now Media Shower) on March 8, 2013
Despite sharing a hairstyle with Rihanna, I am in fact a 30-year-old adult male, knocking on the doors of year 31.
Get rid of the lipstick and boobs, and we’re pretty much twins.
As such, I need to start eating better. The days of taking an extra-large dump and losing five pounds are fast slipping away, and I could easily wake up tomorrow and require assistance just to sit up.
Luckily for me, there are tons of healthy food choices. Unluckily for me, they’re all fairly atrocious and fear-inducing. I enjoy potatoes and carrots as much as the next rabbit, but some of these goofy things look like primitive tools. And my svelte, girlish figure depends on eating them?
Well, if this was to be my future, I decided to see if I couldn’t make it a wee bit more fun. I remember Jerry Seinfeld’s girlfriend put out a book awhile back where she taught us how to slip junk food into healthy stuff so kids would eat them. My advance apologies to all friends and family members whose birthdays I had to forgot so my brain could retain this information.
Her idea was decent, but didn’t go far enough, so I decided to take over. I picked out six of those weird, exotic vegetables that grocery stores technically sell but you regularly skip past on your way to the Cheez-Its aisle. Paired up with a favorite junk food of mine, could I make these abominations taste like real food? Or would it all end up in a real toilet, real fast?
Uno: 4 Side Effects of Head and Shoulders Worse Than the One on Your Facebook Wall
That picture of a lotus pod growing out of somebody’s shoulder was supposedly what happens if you use Head and Shoulders shampoo. Turns out that was an obvious hoax, but my crack team of investigators turned up the shocking truth. Head and Shoulders fucks you up in ways a mere disgusting growth on your arm never could.
Dos: Solving the LeBron James Free Agency Issue: Make Him Play Alone
We still don’t know where LeBron James is going to play, only that whoever signs him will pay out the nose. My solution: make him play alone. Form the LeBron City LeBrons and take on the league on his own. That way there’ll be no salary cap issue, plus he won’t have to deal with annoying teammmates trying to be all teammate-y and not-as-good-as-him-y.
Tres: Old Cell Phones Aren’t Better Than Smartphones, No Matter What Nostalgics Insist
There’s a new trend going around where nostalgics are embracing old, brick-like cell phones, insisting their simplicity makes them superior to smartphones. Even though I’m in my 30’s and thus should start fearing all new things, I’m 1000% these people are hilariously, pornographically wrong.
Catorce: The Tour de France Just Started, and It’s as Pointless as Ever
The Tour de France, a 2200-mile bike race featuring only the world’s most fit druggies, just started. This is unfortunate because, Lance Armstrong or no Lance Armstrong, this might be the most pointless competition in all of sports.
Hello Hello: Sometimes, Shock Humor Isn’t Funny Simply Because It Sucks
There’s an eternal debate raging as to whether or not offensive, shock humor goes too far and the joke-tellers need to apologize for hurting so many people, or if the sensitive whiny liberal pansies need to shut up, grow some thicker skin, and learn to take a joke. Forgotten in this endless cycle is a third argument, one that’s ignored far too often: “why are we fighting over jokes that just plain aren’t funny?”
‘TIS THIS: 5 Famous Musicians Who Went Solo (and Insane)
Some musicians go solo and do the same damn thing they were doing in their band. Others spread their wings and put out amazing music that sounds nothing like anything they’ve ever done before and solidifies them as artists of the highest caliber.
Others try the latter, but should’ve gone with the former, because their attempts at branching out and carving out their own identity were on par with Michelangelo trying to carve out David’s penis using just his fists.
BONUS MATERIAL: Here, have a purty header banner I made before remembering that columns don’t have header banners: