5 Great Podcast Ideas for Senators Who Just Don’t Feel Like Doing Their Jobs

Posted on by Steve Packosky

UGH, constituents, am I right? Constantly asking you to do things like legislate on their behalf and act in their best interest. Don’t they get that you just want to spend your time chilling and having conversations with your friends?

Your time is your own. Just because you’re a public servant doesn’t mean you should have to waste it performing your elected duties. As such, here are 5 great podcast ideas for senators who just don’t feel like, you know, senating.

Movies

Doesn’t talking about the newest Marvel movie sound so much better than being there for your state’s citizens during a life-threatening power outage? Honestly, who gives a shit? It’ll probably come back on at some point, and it’s not like you’re an electrical engineer. Brush up on rudimentary movie analysis (or don’t, it truly doesn’t matter) and get ready to discuss how good you think Mark Wahlberg was in “Flight Risk”.

Grievance Politics

This definitely seems like the most viable option here. A podcast dedicated to complaining about Critical Race Theory or some high school trans volleyball player in Kansas sure beats the shit out of proposing legislation to help the people who cast a vote for you, so get out of the Capitol and into a comfy chair, and start recording. Your loyal followers aren’t going to get inordinately angry about inane things for no fucking reason on their own!

True Crime

This topic will always be all the rage, so you’ll definitely have an eager audience. And anyway, doesn’t it sound so much more interesting than serving on the Senate Appropriations Committee? Almost certainly, so hook up your mic and talk about the Zodiac Killer for a few hours. Your pals up in Congress likely won’t even notice you’re gone.

Food

Cooking food, eating food, exploring food’s history, it doesn’t really matter. So long as it doesn’t involve working as a Senator, feel free to hit this from whichever angle you prefer. Just make sure to get going as soon as possible. Your colleagues are going to begin the boring-ass confirmation process for some presidential judicial nominees soon, and you need an excuse to miss it.

Christianity

Fuck yeah, your voters love this shit. You’ve been espousing religious bullshit ever since you got into politics, and for whatever reason they haven’t caught on that you think it’s a bunch of beans. It’s largely the reason you got into office in the first place. Weirdly, doing this is probably better for your career than actually doing your career, so get started!

Punk Opens Up to Therapist and Confesses Their Love For The Misfits’ “Famous Monsters”

Posted on by Jose Balderas

ONTARIO, Calif. — Local punk Remy Omomo made a breakthrough during a recent therapy session and admitted his love for the Graves-era Misfits’ album “Famous Monsters,” sources reported.

“I’ve been harboring these feelings since 1999 and I knew every time I pretended it wasn’t a big part of my identity I felt like I was dying inside, and not in a cool B-movie body horror way, so it was a major milestone when I was able to tell my therapist how much I fucking love this album even if I lose some of my best friends or even family,” relayed Omomo. “You have to be true to yourself and admit that you love ‘Lost in Space’ with Michale Graves’ weirdly fluctuating vocals and ‘Forbidden Zone’ with its retelling of everyone’s favorite ape movie. My therapist said it was all in my head and that many other punks also suffer. It’s important to know that you are not alone.”

Close friend Spider Gonzalez recounts how much Omomo’s secret affected their group.

“We were always concerned about how irrationally angry he would get at just the mere mention of anything Misfits-related. His outburst would seriously kill the mood when he’d begin yelling ‘Fuck Michale Graves!’ because yeah, we agree, but please calm down inside the Barnes & Noble,” said Gonzalez. “He told us recently he began therapy and we thought it was to handle his obsession with only having an even number of safety pins on him at all times but I guess it was for his Famous Monster-era phobia. The rest of his friends accept him even if he chooses to like that album. You know what they say, ‘love the band, hate that album.’”

Omomo’s therapist, Dr. Herman Garrett, expanded on scene-specific trauma he’s encountered with more regularity.

“More and more punks have been open to the idea of accepting who they are beyond what is expected of them in their social circles and scenes,” stated Garrett. “It’s ok to like a sub-par album of a band. It’s ok to put in a Laufey song in between Agnostic Front and Propagandhi. It doesn’t change who you are and what you are true to. It’s ok to enjoy ‘Famous Monsters’ and also want to punch Michale Graves. Those are valid feelings and once we understand that you are a multi-faceted person that can, and will, like shitty things from time to time then you are truly free to be yourself without any reservations.”

As of press time, Omomo also included Alkaline Trio’s “Crimson” and Bad Religion’s “Into The Unknown” into his regular rotation of albums.

RFK Jr. Announces Plans to Live Forever After Stuffing His Holes with Silica Gel Packets

Posted on by Matt Husser

WASHINGTON — Secretary of Health Robert F. Kennedy Jr. today declared his plans to live for eternity after stuffing his orifices with silica gel packets, sources confirmed.

“I’m proud to announce I’ve discovered a miracle anti-aging breakthrough—I stuffed silica gel packets in all my holes and now I can never die! You’d be amazed how many of these suckers you can fit in your pee-hole, but you really gotta get ’em up there or the healing crystals can’t latch onto your taint chakra,” mumbled RFK Jr., loose packets spilling from his mouth. “You see, the ancient Egyptians had the right idea with mummification, but the crucial mistake they made was only embalming themselves after they were dead. But this stuff is all-natural, non-toxic, and ever since I’ve started silica-maxxing I’ve transcended the need to void my bowels.”

Make America Healthy Again acolyte Bradley Gaines took to TikTok to try the new silica-maxxing trend.

“We stan our desiccant daddy RFK Jr., so you know I had to try this new miracle aging cure myself. Now the first thing you’ll notice is all these junk food wrappers around me—I wouldn’t be caught putting this processed garbage in my body, I just needed to buy it to get enough nourishing silica packets to fill my bodily apertures,” said Gaines, grunting as he stuffed a handful of packets down his pants. “Wow, you can really feel the silica working immediately, it’s kind of like popping a Zyn except instead of an energizing buzz it feels like your asshole is filled with rock salt. Well the guidelines did say that some bleeding was normal, but thankfully the silica will dry all that up in no time.”

Healthcare workers pleaded with Americans to not follow the new HHS guidelines on how to safely shove silica packets in your orifices.

“I can’t in good conscience recommend that Americans ‘lube up with tallow and start slowly with one or two fistfuls of silica packets until you feel the euphoria wash over your naked body,'” said gastroenterologist Dr. Gabriel Trammell. “The list of things we recommend you shove up your ass are pretty small, and desiccant packets from an old bag of beef jerky is definitely not one of them. There is also no clinical evidence to the claim that ‘when you cross the silica desert and hallucinate an oasis, it’s the trickster Loki trying to con you into drinking from the pool of seed oils.'”

Having conquered death, RFK Jr. announced plans to spend the next 500 years searching across time and space for the cure for autism.

Opinion: Don’t Talk to Me Until I’ve Screamed at the Teenager Making My Coffee

Posted on by Matt Husser

There are a few rules I live my life by: a balanced diet is a slice of pizza in each hand, my level of sarcasm depends on your level of stupidity, and if you want to dance with the devil, you don’t get to pick the tune. But there’s one bit of t-shirt wisdom above all else that everyone around me needs to abide by: Don’t talk to me until I’ve screamed at the teenager making my coffee.

I know it’s cliche, but I just can’t start my day until I’ve hurled a barrage of insults at a sixteen-year old until they’ve shed enough tears to fill a coffee cup — and it better be a fuckin’ large cup too, because we don’t hablo no ‘Grande’ here in the U.S. of A.

There’s just something that brings me joy about that first whiff of attitude from the barista that gives me the greenlight to unload on them. This is a stand your coffee grounds state so go ahead, punk: make my latte. I don’t give a damn if you’re my teenage daughter’s best friend, how hard is it to make a three and a quarter shot, half-caff, non-fat, eight-pump caramel whip macchiato with extra foam, but only on the right side of the cup, and the gentlest angel’s fart of cinnamon on top?

I work hard and I play hard, but if there’s one thing I don’t play with it’s my coffee. If you’re too dumb to read that my shirt clearly says ‘Warning: My Sense of Humor Might Hurt Your Feelings’, well that’s your fault that you can’t tell the difference between mean and ‘spicy nice’.

And Lord help you if you think you can turn that little screen around and ask for a tip. You disrespect me in front of this long line of people waiting for me to teach you a lesson so they can order their coffee, and you want a tip? You’re lucky I don’t shove the tip of that steam wand up your butt and burn the sass out of your narrow ass. Mess with me you get the horns, mess with my coffee and you get the whole damn bull, sweetie.

Well thanks to that snot-nosed punk my day is officially ruined, so somebody better call ‘wine-one-one’ because it’s feeling like wine o’clock already. And I swear to God, that lazy bartender at Applebee’s better hustle her pregnant ass off that stool because if I’m late for my appointment with Dr. Rosé after the day I’ve had I’m going to hit that bitch with my Cybertruck.

40-Year-Old Metalhead Who Could Headbang for Hours in His 20s Now Gets Dizzy Just Standing Up from Toilet

Posted on by Chris Bowen

AUBURN, N.Y. — Local metalhead Stew Benendez came to the realization he could no longer headbang the way he used to after noticing how dizzy he became after simply getting off of his toilet, sources report.

“Man, when I was 23, me and my buds would bang our heads to Metal Church until the early hours of the morning while huffing four bags of glue and pounding 30 beers without even breaking a sweat, now I can’t even get out of my car without feeling like I’m going to faceplant on my driveway,” Benendez said as he put on a pair of grass-stained Adidas. “Could this be that I’m finally getting older, or is it just all the meds I take for my high blood pressure? Either way, it won’t ever stop me from jamming Iron Maiden covers with the boys in my garage, even if I have to bubble wrap everything in there.”

Benendez’s wife of five years has growing concerns about her husband’s lack of headbanging.

“I always tell him practice makes perfect and that you can’t just spend most of your time talking about how ‘metal’ you are, without actually doing any headbanging,” Sarah Benendez said. “It’s a wonder how he can even get up from the couch and get the mail without taking a header into the 14-foot skeleton we keep in our yard year round. I love him, but think it’s time he faces his headbanging and standing up quickly days are over.”

Doctor Sheila McDaniel, who specializes in geriatric care, claims metalheads can also develop conditions unique to themselves.

“The metal lifestyle is pretty much a breeding ground for brain damage. We see this in many patients who have spent decades listening to bands like Candlemass and Trouble,” Dr. McDaniel explained. “You would assume it would be the drug usage associated with doom bands like them, but oftentimes it’s the slow, consistent brain rattling caused by their riffs. Later in life, this can cause dizziness, slow reaction time, a penchant for finger foods, and an inability to like any bands that aren’t 40 years old.”

At press time, Benendez took the “Boy in the Plastic Bubble” approach to prevent any lightheaded spills while attending his latest metal show.

Man Ready to Conquer Day After Instagram Algorithm Feeds Him Several Back-to-Back Reels of Horrific Automotive Fatalities

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

BLACKWELL, Okla. — Local man Darren McFadden was ready to take on his day after his Instagram algorithm fed him several consecutive Reels of horrific automotive fatalities, concerned friends and family members reported.

“Life really isn’t so bad when you put everything into perspective,” reported McFadden while casually watching a sizzle reel of parkour outtakes resulting in either death or permanent disfigurement at 2x speed and sipping on his morning coffee. “Sure, my job is miserable and my ex-girlfriend just announced that she’s having twins, but things could be a lot worse. At least I wasn’t that guy who got pancaked by a drunk driver behind the wheel of an F-150 while enjoying lunch at the sub shop because he was sitting too close to the window.”

Longtime friend and victim of McFadden’s willingness to forward the most unhinged content without warning, Chris Harding, is considering therapy after months of waking up to unsolicited gore.

“Darren and I always send each other wacky stuff, but I’m beginning to think that he sincerely enjoys watching countless people he doesn’t know get severely hurt or killed before forwarding it along with a hearty ‘LOL’ that makes the hairs on my neck stand up,” stated Harding while surveying his inbox for ‘Sensitive Content’ warnings. “I never thought I’d miss the overflow of people reviewing food in their cars that typically show up on my feed, but thanks to Darren my Explore page is now a digital landfill of human suffering.”

Social media expert Lauren Hughes worries about the psychological fallout that mass consumption of snuff under the guise of entertainment will have on society if left unchecked.

“It goes without question that we’re not mentally equipped to doom scroll through hundreds of videos of unintentional manslaughter on social media,” asserted Hughes while scrubbing her feed of candid choking incidents at chain restaurants for the third time this week. “On one hand, sussing out AI-generated content versus the real thing has become increasingly difficult, and you really can’t blame users for seeing it as a form of idle entertainment. Conversely, laughing out loud at a man falling into a bear trap while you’re taking a dump is the early warning sign of an entirely new mental illness that we have yet to fully explore.”

At press time, McFadden was spotted searching for his old copy of “Faces of Death” in his storage unit.

The Next John Fetterman? The GOP Is Wooing a Job Site Security Guard After an Iron Rod Through the Skull Changed His Entire Personality

Posted on by Dan Rice

One was a massively corrupt political party dragging the country into authoritarian oligarchy through lies, xenophobia, and secret police. The other, a Democratic senator, fresh off the heels of a stroke that significantly damaged his brain, and ready to believe anything you told him. It was a meet-cute for the ages, but if you’ve been shipping the GOP and John Fetterman, we’ve got some troubling news — it looks like the Fett-dog might have some competition.

Scott Landers was a mild-mannered and well-liked security guard at a construction site until a workplace accident left him with an iron rod through the skull. Miraculously, he survived, but friends and family report the incident has radically altered the once kind and even-tempered Landers. He is now irate, irrational, and prone to fits of extreme paranoia and delusion — something known in conservative political circles as the “it factor.”

Just when it looked like the GOP was about to drop to one knee and make their situationship with the severely ill John Fetterman legal in front of God and everyone, in barges this tall, severely unstable drink of water. The guy looking at the hot girl in front of his girlfriend meme practically writes itself. Fetterman better up his game fast, because Landers is “speak in tongues brandishing a broken bottle” crazy now, and top conservative lawmakers have sure as hell taken notice.

Landers’ political potential was first noticed by top republicans when a video of him recovering in the hospital went viral. Doctors and hospital staff could be seen desperately trying to restrain him as he attempted to rip out his IV, shouting in a mixture of English and a language of his own design that the fluid contained microchips, that hospitals were slave factories for the satanic deep state, and Israel is America’s biggest responsibility. All while blood still profusely oozed from his fresh skull wound. Rumor has it Mitch McConnell took one look at that video, steepled his fingers, and cooed, “Excellent.” Pennsylvania, there might just be a new senator in town.

Early focus group shows conservative voters identify with Landers’ paranoid lunacy, noting that he seems “down to earth” and “real.” When asked if his platform to arm every man, woman, and child in Pennsylvania with swords and torches until the Rat King and his hypno-hordes had been neutralized, focus groups noted that Landers was likely not being literal, and that the Rat King was a metaphor for government overreach. When shown a video of a disheveled Landers firing a handgun wildly into a sewer, shouting “Get out here ya gaddman Satan Rat man, you don’t fool me!” one group member accused whoever took the video of lacking critical thinking skills because cancel culture.

Fetterman better start tasting some more pennies fast if he has any hope of emerging as the victor in this little love triangle. At this rate, he’ll need a bolt of lightning to destroy an entire hemisphere of what remains of his brain just to compete with this dangerously deranged new conservative dreamboat. The GOP knows the lifeblood of their party is the fear-based madness of those poor twisted souls who, by cruelty of fate, exist in the murky nether-regions between life and death, and Landers has got that in spades. It’s not every day you find a mentally crippled misfortunate with Landers’ youth, vitality, and, rod through the skull aside, rugged good looks. If that rod had bludgeoned its way straight through his skull while Trump was giving out cabinet positions, it wouldn’t even be a contest.

Crowd Apparently Feeling “Whoo” Tonight

Posted on by Shane Pauker

AKRON, Ohio — Attendees at Hamster Death Method’s latest concert felt overwhelmingly “whoo,” per an impromptu survey conducted by the band’s singer, confirmed sources.

“I asked how Akron was doing tonight, and they just said ‘whoo’ in unison,” singer Brett Keats recalled. “I couldn’t believe it, so I told them I couldn’t hear them. They shouted the same thing, only louder. I asked how they were doing because I really wanted to know, not just to make small talk, and they gave me platitudes all the same! Even when I tried to drop it and ask if they were ready to rock, they kept saying ‘whoo.’ God forbid a guy wants to connect with his fans. Not sure what’s come over Ohio, but remind me not to ask the locals any more questions.”

Attendees continued to self-report as “whoo” outside of their hive mind response.

“Hell yeah, I’m feeling ‘whoo’ if not a little ‘woohoo’ tonight!” attendee Jeff Walters confirmed between bites of a bacon-wrapped hot dog purchased outside the venue. “They asked how I’m feeling, and I made sure they heard me! You know what? I’m not just feeling whoo—I’m feeling wolf-whistle and I’m feeling ‘yeah!’ I’m out here to jam to my favorite tunes, and I got an $11 absolute steal on this tall boy of Liquid Death. What’s not to feel ‘whoo’ about?”

Experts suggest the overriding feeling of “whoo” goes beyond concert settings.

“It’s been a recurring trend for my patients,” therapist Michael Jutland explained. “Whenever I ask a young patient how they’re feeling, they give a half-hearted ‘whoop.’ If it’s a particularly good day, they might clap a little bit or stick their fingers in their mouth to whistle. I’ll be blunt: those aren’t emotions. That’s not how normal people express themselves. Even if ‘whoo’ is good, ignoring the nuance and depth of human emotion to force a brave cheer weakens your ability to actually express yourself. Be honest with how you feel; tell the singer that today’s been kind of rough. They’ll understand.”

At press time, a patient was heard asking Dr. Jutland for an encore speech about his emotional inaccessibility.

Conservative Dad Who Exclusively Watches History Channel Learns Nothing From It

Posted on by Trevor Graham

WICHITA, Kan. — Local 62-year-old dad Carl Strungis reportedly spends hours glued to The History Channel, absorbing absolutely nothing except the vague sense that explosions are cool and America rules, sources who are asking if the TV can be turned down a little confirmed.

“I like to kick back in my recliner with a cold beer — not that woke Bud Light crap — and watch our boys blow stuff up,” Strungis said, adjusting his novelty eagle belt buckle. “I’m not too worried about why we went to war, what it cost, the devastating effects it has on our troops when they return, or anything like that. I just like the grainy footage of tanks rolling in and stuff going boom. They recently aired a documentary about the Vietnam War. I couldn’t follow any of it.”

Strungis’ adult children say that if he is going to spend so much time just sitting and watching The History Channel that he should at least have some take aways from it.

“I’m always trying to get him to see the parallels between the xenophobia that led to the rise of fascism in Nazi Germany and what is happening today in the U.S. but he’ll just say ‘Oh, look at those brave forces storming the beach at Normandy to kick those bad guys’ asses!” said daughter Lara Strungis. “Sometimes I’ll forward him articles from NPR or The New York Times that show how we are currently on the path to the same authoritarian style government that we fought against in WWII and he’ll just send back a meme of a bald eagle crying over a Dodge Ram.”

History Channel executive Michael Evans says they are aware their demographic doesn’t retain any of the information in what they watch and that they are planning changes to their programming to accommodate their audience.

“Our research shows 86% of our audience is over 60, male, and completely impervious to learning,” said executive Michael Evans. “So we’re pivoting. We’re developing AI-generated footage of endless planes getting shot down, with patriotic music blaring over it. No more context, no more interviews — just pure kaboom. It’s already testing through the roof in our focus groups.”

At press time, Strungis switched off The History Channel for a breather, blasting Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” — a song he proudly called “the most pro-America anthem ever written.”

Opinion: Are You Gonna Ask Stupid Questions, or Are You Gonna Help Get This Lit Firework Out of My Dickhole?

Posted on by Matt Husser

Ah, the Fourth of July: the day we celebrate George Washington conquering thousands of commies back in biblical times to win our God-given freedom to grill half a cow, drink cold beer, and detonate home-made fireworks at our militia compounds. But instead of honoring the greatest country on Earth, here you are trying to ruin Independence Day by asking me all kinda stupid questions like I’m a ChatGPT robot instead of helping me fish this lit firework out of my dickhole. But no, by all means, let’s host an interactive panel Q&A while the crackling fuse inches closer to exploding my wiener like a ballpark frank in a campfire.

‘How did that firecracker even get in your dickhole?’ It’s called a dare, numbnuts, and we both know if I backed down from Firepecker Roulette then Cousin Terry would spend the rest of the weekend calling me ‘Dickless Cheney’ in front of those hot out-of-towner chicks down at the reservoir.

‘Why can’t you take it out by yourself?’ Because I’ve got two bottles of Mickey’s duct taped to my hands, haven’t you ever played ‘Edward 40 Hands’ before?

‘Didn’t this happen last year?’ For your information, last year’s firecracker emergency was located in my asshole, and I was able to snuff it out with my buttcheeks—again, no thanks to you.

‘Should I get the fire extinguisher?’ What, and freeze up all my sperms? My mama has been begging me for grandkids, and now you wanna shrivel my balls and rob that sweet woman of the greatest gift a son can give his mother aside from a Riverboat Casino Cruise?

Well, I hope you’re happy, I’ve answered all your stupid questions, but at what cost? Because of you, my junk is about to be all shredded like fajita meat. The neighborhood kids are gonna laugh at me and call me ‘Mr. Burntjangles’. I’ll probably have to live in the circus as ‘The Living Ken Doll’ while hillbillies throw chewed up hot dogs at my—oh, sweet Lord, hallelujah! I just pissed myself and put the firecracker out. Thank you, Jesus, for blessing me again with one of your many urine-based miracles. The 4th of July is back on, Cousin Terry, toss me that kerosene! Who wants to play ‘Flaming Hot Cornhole’?