Why Pooping Until My Legs Fall Asleep Should Be Considered Exercise

Posted on by Steve Packosky

So I just went to the doctor for my tri-annual checkup, and she recommended I get at least 150 minutes of moderate aerobic exercise every week. That seemed really daunting and unattainable given my hectic schedule of watching Mario 64 speedruns and posting on the Dr. Who subreddit, until I realized something. I regularly sit on the toilet until my legs fall asleep. Why should that not qualify as aerobic exercise?

Think about it. What happens to your body when you undergo strenuous physical activity? I’m genuinely unaware, but according to everybody’s most trusted source of information, Google AI Overview, energy levels are boosted, inflammation is reduced, and metabolism is improved through the regulation of insulin. Granted, I have no clinical evidence that any of these benefits are realized while I’m sitting on the shitter until I have to shake the feeling back into my lower extremities, but I can tell you that I leave the bathroom feeling rested, rejuvenated and ready to tackle my daily tasks, whether they be comprised of masturbating to Internet porn or rewatching Season 2 of “Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba”. Honestly, I’m convinced and see no reason to investigate this any further.

And who’s to say that straining for half an hour on the porcelain throne because I’ve consumed nothing but Kickin’ Dill Pickle Corn Nuts and Mountain Dew Code Red for the past week puts my body in any less physical stress than, say, a triathlete who’s just entered Kilometer 8 of the run portion of their competition, or a central midfielder sprinting towards the goal in the last seconds of the World Cup? Certainly not me, and the sweat pouring down my brow as I finally pinch off that turd and hit the nozzle on my TUSHY Spa 3.0 should certainly be enough to shut down any naysayers. If not, the pins and needles shooting down my legs as I finally wobble out of the bathroom and back into the safe confines of my dankly lit basement bedroom will convince even the most stalwart of doubting Thomases.  

If you still feel it necessary to consume copious amounts of roughage so you’re not pushing to the point of seeing stars during your daily (or, in my case, twice a week) bowel movements, then, by all means, continue. Far be it from me to deny others their jollies. I’ll continue living my life the way I have been, and we’ll see who makes it to 100. Now, where did I put my Fleshlight?

Mark Zuckerberg Lingering Around Cubicles Until Someone Notices New Durag 

Posted on by Doug Kolic

MENLO PARK, Calif. — Tech CEO Mark Zuckerberg is reportedly lingering around the Meta campus in the hopes someone will finally compliment his new durag, according to nearby sources who hate his guts more each time they see him.

“What’s a billionaire CEO have to do to get some love around here?” said the 41-year-old dipshit looking around to high five anyone who makes eye contact. “I thought them ignoring me when I got all swagged out with a fresh broccoli perm to go with my new fit bod was an anomaly, but maybe there’s something deeper going on here since nobody wants to say a goddamn thing about this sweet new durag. Maybe they’re too busy implementing my exciting vision for the company, or maybe they just don’t realize complimenting me is mandatory as specified in their employment contracts.”

A long-time employee Gwen Headey explained what she witnessed. 

“Of course we noticed him fishing for compliments, who couldn’t!” said Headey. “Whenever he gets something he thinks is cool like a makeover or a bullshit hoverboard, he comes around hoping and praying someone will say something. It’s not enough that the guy is one of the richest people on the planet, but he also needs to have praise showered onto him at all times which is truly pathetic. When he had the first prototype of Meta glasses, he hung out in the breakroom for literally hours while everyone just ignored him. Even with money, at the end of the day a doofus is still a doofus.”

Tech expert Dilbert Washington described how it’s common for the wealthy elite to crave attention from their underlings.

“It’s an age-old phenomenon,” said Washington. “Zuckerberg, Musk, Gates, Jobs, they all found time out of their busy days to visit their staff seeking to impress them somehow. Rumor has it that this phenomenon started back in Cornelius Vanderbilt’s day when the tycoon was known to frequently linger around his railyards in hopes someone under his employ would praise his fancy new pocket watch.”

At press time, a tired Zuckerberg finally took the win after a cleaner who realized he wasn’t going to get any work done with the giant dork hanging around, looked at the CEO and said, “new hat?” 

Researchers Unveil Sex Robot Capable of Feeling Shame About What Just Happened

Posted on by Kevin Coutu

BERKELEY, Calif. — Researchers at UC Berkeley announced they had built the first sex robot with the capacity to feel shame about what just happened, confirmed sources who didn’t know whether they wanted to sleep with it or console it.

“We’re incredibly proud of what we’ve achieved here. It’s a real breakthrough in the humiliation-based robotics industry,” said project director Alan Morrow during a live demonstration of the prototype. “For years, sex robots have been able to simulate the pleasure, intimacy, and responsiveness of an encounter, but now the android can struggle to process the profound sense of mortification and regret that accompanies every sexual experience. It’s so life-like that it might even start crying after intercourse.”

Early beta testers reported that the breakthrough creates a comfortingly unsettling experience that feels strikingly authentic.

“It’s honestly kind of amazing just how bad they seem to feel, and how bad that makes you end up feeling,” said beta tester Emily Hill. “The robot will suddenly start avoiding eye contact, then begin haphazardly making the bed while I’m still in it, joke that I’m the one being weird, then finally apologize for being weird themselves, and then randomly ask if we should go out to eat or something even though we just ate. Sometimes they’ll just sit there in silence, staring at the end of the bed, like they’re waiting for me to leave. It’s incredibly weird and authentic. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was the real thing.”

Experts in artificial intelligence ethics say the development could represent a major step forward in recreating the emotional complexity required for true artificial general intelligence.“If we want machines to fully replicate the human experience, they can’t simply perform human behavior,” explained AI ethicist Dr. Priya Shah. “They also need to feel the deep, immediate shame about how truly disgusting their sexual proclivities are, and spend the ensuing days incessantly questioning how they are choosing to live their life.”

At press time, researchers confirmed they are close to ensuring that during sex the robot’s inner monologue consists of the core ruminations, including that their partner is thinking of someone else, that their partner wishes it were already over, and that they are unlovable and destined to die alone — right before they cum.

Opinion: I’m Like a Spy, but for Just This One Girl

Posted on by Jeff Bender

What do you think of when you hear the word “spy”? Do you picture an overcoated man with a fedora and steely gaze? A smoldering cigarette? A snub-nosed pistol? A smoking-hot babe at his side? 

Well, you’ve just pictured me — all but the overcoat part and the cigarette part. And the pistol part. And, recently, the babe part. I do work weird hours, though. 

I guess the only “important” difference between a real spy and me is that, where real spies take case after case, I only ever work with one target. You could say I’m the Jerry Maguire of espionage. 

My target? Let’s call her “Jen Wolf,” which is very much her real name. Jen and I broke up five weeks ago, and I suspect she’s pretty broken up about it, so I’ve been checking up on her to see if she’s okay. I sit before war memorials disguised as a wheelchaired veteran. I dive behind bushes. I get accidentally shut inside meat lockers. Last week I got stuck inside her nephew’s toy igloo. And I don’t even get paid! I guess I do it for the love of the game. 

My main concern is this: How’s Jen doing since the breakup? I’ve had other women obsess over me, lament our separation, and, once, even call me back. I always feel bad for these women—hence why I feel the need to constantly check up on old Jen. 

Like the other day, I spent eight hours inside a suit of armor at Jen’s work (she sells armor) just to catch a glimpse of her and overhear whether she’s finally moved on. That day I learned a valuable lesson: Thursday’s her day off. 

She did stop in, though, and mutter something as she passed, something like, “I know you’re in there, Carl,” and, “Give it up, buddy.” 

Questions remained. Who’s Carl? Why does he have the same name as I do? What did she mean by “give it up”? After some digging and phone calls, I discovered I’m “Carl.” Some might consider this “case closed,” but not me. I’m still on the hunt for the meaning of this seemingly harmless phrase “give it up,” which, in my opinion, is loaded with subtext. I think I’ll stay on the case awhile. 

Whoa, did I just say “on the case”? Holy cow . . . I think I’m becoming a real spy!

I’m definitely getting that overcoat. 

Dive Bar Unveils Safe Haven Drop Box for Unwanted Bassists  

Posted on by Doug Kolic

YUMA, Ariz. — Local dive bar The Rusty Splinter announced a new program to accept discarded bassists in a more humane way via a secure drop box, according to passersby who thought the bar was shut down by local health officials a long time ago.

“Today we are launching the country’s first safe haven drop box program specifically for unwanted bassists,” said bar owner Mark McGuffy. “After years of added expense trying to deal with all the abandoned musicians we’ve found hidden in and around our property, we were forced to create this new initiative in the hopes that bands would be a little more compassionate in how they threw away these unloved members. We made this decision out of compassion, and also because the authorities caught wind of our plan to cull them.”

Local bassist Trevor LeClare had mixed feelings about this new announcement.

“Don’t get me wrong, having a safe way for our community to be tossed out is important,” echoed LeClare’s voice from inside of a drop box. “But you know what’s an even better idea? Treating us with respect and not throwing us out like some street trash. I guess that’s too much to ask, and we should just be happy with the crumbs society throws our way. Hey, can you do me a favor and turn me over? I can’t feel my left arm.”

Inventor of the drop boxes, Henry Daru, explained the new program.

“My invention initially was exclusively for abandoned babies to be dropped off without judgement,” said Daru. “But we were quickly inundated with phone calls from business owners asking what they were supposed to do with some drunk off his ass bassist who was stashed in a coat room or under a pile of cardboard in their back alley. Now, nobody ever has to see these unwanted people again, especially after they’re picked up for collection and dropped off hundreds of miles away in the woods.”

At press time, the program was also set to announce a new partnership with local non-kill animal shelters where bassists would be given their own kennels with a nice green space to run.

Decade of Failure Rebranded as ‘Rough Patch’ for First Date

Posted on by Skyler Hanrath

HOUSTON — Local man Lou Marling assured himself that his years of failure could be played off as no more than a “rough patch” during a firstdate with Samantha Kottke, confirmed sources.

“It’s been a full decade now since anything I tried went right,” said Marling while nervously scanning his banking app to confirm that he hadn’t overdrafted. “I’ve been fired, jailed, dumped. But that’s not the kind of résumé you want to bring to the table if you’re dating. No, what you want to do is give your ugly history a makeover. When I locked this in off Hinge, I decided to slap some lipstick on things. Taken collectively, they couldn’t not be described as a ‘rough patch,’ so here we are. I’ve also described my last five years of unemployment as ‘in between jobs.’”

Kottke is a long-time user of Hinge, where she’s seen her share of the good and the bad the app has to offer. 

“His profile looked alright, and he was up front about going through some things. I’ll dig in more when the time’s right,” said Kottke, who noted that Marling never mentioned having an ankle monitor when scheduling their dinner. “I assume it’s nothing major, as, if it was, there’s no way he’d just call it a ‘rough patch.’ Hinge has some fabulists, but the big liars you can usually spot.” 

Of course, some amount of exaggeration is par for course in the dating app era.

“While it’s never good to start a relationship with lies, for the guy who truly has nothing to offer, sometimes it’s a necessity,” said Denice Mobley, licensed couples therapist. “For the true down-and-out mess of a man, it’s important to shade massive screwups as ‘someone else’s fault,’ or ‘the universe laughing at you.’ Going big when you’re responsible for the nasty state of your life, while maybe not the foundation to build something lasting on, is the sort of thing that could lead to a second date, where the guy could maybe start to address the supreme cock up that is his day to day existence with a potential partner.”

At press time, Kottke was leaving, and Marling was seen crying into his hands, unable to keep it together long enough to convince her that his awful life was worth being part of for even a second longer.

Real Life Severance?: This Woman Got So High at Work She Forgot Who She Really Is

Posted on by Michael Palladino

Somebody call Harmony Cobel and Mr. Milchick, because apparently it’s not just the employees of Lumon Industries that get to live that “Severance” life!

Recently, 29-year-old barista April Morales performed something of a procedure on herself while working a shift at her local coffee shop. You see, this young lady has gotten so high at work that she literally cannot remember who she really is. It’s giving Season One Helly R. vibes, and we’re loving it!

While it’s not clear if April is a fan of the hit Apple TV series, or even aware of it, or even aware of anything, she is clearly all about that innie/outie life. So does her coffee shop have any weird and kooky secrets like Lumon Industries does? When asked, Morales replied through stifled laughter, “Dude, I lowkey don’t even know what this place is right now. Deadass.” After erupting into a full giggle fit, she composed herself and stated, “I know there’s coffee here, but is that like our whole thing? Cause coffee can be lots of places even if it’s not, like, the store’s main thing, right?” She then added, “Am I being weird right now?”

So what was “the procedure” like? Was it as invasive and creepy as the one on “Severance”? According to Morales, not at all. “I can’t remember all the details of how it worked, obviously. All I know is it had something to do with the walk-in freezer and the one girl who works in the back and likes to play Sublime on the Bluetooth speaker.”

So what about her “outie”? Does April have any idea what her life is like? After a long quizzical stare at the ceiling that went on so long that we had to ask if she was alright, she replied, “Yeah, I mean, she gets high as fuck, right? She sounds cool to me then, I guess.”

Like we said, major Helly R. vibes!

Mega Man Gains Ability To Rap After Defeating Method Man 

Posted on by Bobby Korec

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. — Local video game protagonist Mega Man gained the ability to rap after defeating Wu-Tang Clan member Method Man, confirmed sources who had previously witnessed the hero beat the ever-living shit out of Michelin Man. 

“I had just been fresh off vanquishing Gemini Man and Magnet Man that morning when I figured I’d go for the hat trick,” said Mega Man while attempting to grab a door handle with his right arm before remembering his appendage is made up entirely of a cannon. “Method Man was a formidable opponent. He spit fire and dropped bars at me at a blazingly fast rate, but nevertheless he couldn’t withstand the power of my charge shots and tactical slides. And get this. Now I can rap all of ‘36 Chambers’ innately. Not to mention, I just won first place in a freestyle rap competition. This is easily one of the best abilities I’ve absorbed. It’s way better than this dumbass leaf shield I attained after annihilating Wood Man years ago.”

Members of Wu-Tang Clan had to quickly find a backup for Method Man.

“If you conquer a member of Wu-Tang, you’re automatically in the group. That’s how Sonic the Hedgehog got in. He defeated Ol’ Dirty Bastard,” said RZA. “Thankfully, we haven’t lost a step since Mega Man joined. He’s actually rapping all of our parts and he’s never out of breath, so we can just sit back and enjoy the show. Plus, that arm cannon comes in really handy. For instance, he was able to scare off the squirrels that were chewing on my outdoor patio furniture. Mega Man rules, despite being slightly cruel towards animals.”

Arch nemesis Dr. Wily wasn’t too worried with Mega Man’s newfound rap skills.

“That dude has gained 86 other abilities and yet here I am still doing my thing,” said Dr. Wily while shaving the middle part of his scalp. “Yeah, I said it. Come at me, Mega Man. And don’t forget that you still have to defeat Redman after taking care of Kool-Aid Man. Maybe then he’ll have enough abilities to thwart this 57-year-old scientist, who stands at a towering 4’7” tall. Genius prevails!”

At press time, Mega Man gained the ability to write psychedelic indie rock songs after defeating Portugal. The Man.

Trust Fund Hipsters Return To Ancestral Coachella Grounds to Mate

Posted on by Ben Friedman

INDIO, Cali. – As the sun broke over the mountains of the Coachella Valley this morning, thousands of first-day festival attendees were lucky enough to witness the annual migration of trust fund hipsters returning to their ancestral ground in order to mate, local conservation officers have confirmed.

“Just as sea turtles and salmon return to their birthplace to begin the circle of life anew, so do hipsters return to the Coachella festival grounds in the hopes of finding someone to fuck during the Strokes’ set, so as to keep their generational wealth in the family,” said park ranger Stephanie Porter. “It’s truly a miracle watching several thousand lazy, entitled assholes who all allege they made skinny jeans popular and used to model for American Apparel throw money they didn’t earn around in the hope of impressing potential mates by loudly talking about what their dads do for work.”

Coachella staffers were also ready to ensure another successful mating season.

“We have to carefully plan out which bands will attract the ‘I heard of them first’ crowd to induce breeding. I’ll never forget when LCD Soundsystem headlined in 2016 and saw the sheer number of headlights of the incoming hipsters’ Teslas appear over the horizon,” said production manager Scott Ballard. “And once they’re here, we let their mating rituals play out naturally. That means absolutely not giving them molly or Velvet Underground records. They have to forage it themselves.”

Despite the successful migration, conservationists warned hipsters may soon be an endangered species. 

“Branded content and social media clout will draw them back every year, but their numbers have been declining over the past decade. The encroaching Gen Z species of hipsters certainly look and act like they invented thrifting band tees, but many couldn’t name a single Pavement album, let alone convince anyone to come back to their family’s beach house in Malibu,” said Dr. Mary Thurgood. “If they fail to produce enough offspring this festival season, Coachella’s entire ecosystem will collapse, and they’ll be forced to see Geese at some shitty festival in Alabama or something

As of press time, concertgoers stood in awe as a herd of hipsters magestically stampeded toward the Gobi Stage upon hearing a beautiful heiress with a coke hookup personally knew the guys in Joyce Manor. 

The Next Jello Biafra? High School Kid Juggles Jazz Band, Marching Band, Wind Ensemble, and Side Project With the Melvins

Posted on by Ryan Darrah

When high school student Chad Toffy is not designing zines mocking his gym teacher for supporting ICE or distributing underground newspapers blasting Montesano High School administrators for their complicity in what he calls “the evils of the Standardized Testing Industrial Complex,” the sophomore trumpet player devotes his seemingly boundless reserves of creative energy to music. 

And according to sources who have witnessed his frenetic performances with his school’s jazz band, marching band, wind ensemble, and a side project with sludge metal legends the Melvins, Toffy may just be the next Jello Biafra.

Montesano High Jazz Band Director Sam Robinson attested to Toffy’s musical chops, while acknowledging that his mischievously confrontational approach to political activism has made Toffy some enemies amongst the band program’s booster club. 

“I’ve never worked with a young trumpet player who was as quick a study of Miles Davis pieces,” Robinson said, “And yet, Chad’s melodramatic grandstanding rubs some people the wrong way. I suppose his prolific musical output and penchant for pranksterism are what remind aging punks in our community of the former Dead Kennedys frontman. He could have just quietly refused to sell fruit snacks for the marching band’s Disneyland trip fundraiser without live-streaming his 3-day hunger strike. But he wanted to protest band kids being coerced into what he feels are exploitative schemes that normalize child labor.”

Bill Wesley, the father of a Montesano High senior who is a member of the school’s drum line, hopes to get Toffy to join his son’s punk band, Three Chord Monte.

“I couldn’t understand how some fifteen-year-old kid got hooked up with the Melvins, but when I saw his marching band arrangement of ‘Honey Bucket’ had students moshing in the bleachers at the homecoming football game, I realized this little dude is a badass,” Wesley said. “But if he’s really his generation’s Jello Biafra, he should be doing gigs with more than just four bands. Besides, right now, the country could use a new rendition of ‘Nazi Punks Fuck Off’ with a wicked ear-piercing trumpet solo!”

At press time, Toffy announced he may take a hiatus from his school’s music program during his junior year to embark on a spoken word tour.