After 60 Years of Studying, Jane Goodall Declares Broiling Best Way to Cook Chimps

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

LONDON — World-famous primatologist Dame Jane Goodall announced today that, after 60 years of studying chimpanzees in their native habitat, she has found that broiling is by far the most satisfying method of cooking and eating chimp flesh.

“It’s been more than half a century, but now I can finally say with near certainty that the most delectable way to serve chimp meat is by marinating it overnight in a Carolina-style barbecue sauce and placing the ape steak under a broiler for five to six minutes,” explained Goodall. “While other methods of cooking — poached, braised, and even chicken-fried chimp — are enjoyable, there’s just no beating the smoky tang of a vinegar-based sauce smothered over the loin of one of our freshly slaughtered evolutionary relatives.”

BBC reporter Julia Hussain was horrified after learning the truth about Goodall during a recent interview.

“My time with Ms. Goodall has left me disillusioned, to say the least. Keep in mind, this is a petite, 86-year-old English woman… and yet, there she was with sauce on her face, the table cloth tucked into her shirt, and a pile of large, obvious primate bones that she had just picked clean on her plate,” said Hussain. “She unbuckled the top button of her pants and allowed me to ask some questions, but she seemed too drowsy from over-eating. She also repeatedly referred to the common chimpanzee as ‘some monkeys.’ When I corrected her, she screamed, ‘Who gives a shit?’ and then belched so loud she rattled the silverware.”

Michelin Star chef Kerry Kennan commented on Goodall’s “bravery” in coming forth with her findings.

“As if I couldn’t respect Jane Goodall any more — for her to have the courage to say what we were all thinking, it’s amazing and mouthwatering,” said Kennan. “I’m hoping her research opens up new opportunities to serve chimp meat in restaurants. But why stop there? Why not eat other endangered animals? Hell, the planet’s only going to be inhabitable for another 50, 60 years tops. What’s the difference? Let’s live a little, man.”

Goodall has since been banned from the historic London Zoo after witnesses spotted her licking her lips while holding a knife and fork outside the primate house.

Galactic Empire Sells Outdated AT-ATs and Speederbikes to Local Police Departments

Posted on by Dan Kozuh

CORUSCANT — The reigning Galactic Empire is selling old laser cannons, starfighters, and other weapons and vehicles to small-town police departments on Earth for pennies on the dollar in an effort to “clear their inventory,” sources within the supremacy confirm.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but we have some grand new weapons coming out, so we have all these older models just sitting around,” the Empire’s Grand Moff Tarkin said. “Luckily, we found lots of buyers on a small, blue-green planet in the Milky Way system — there are units of peacekeepers there just chomping at the bit to own AT-ATs and Blaster Rifles. It is like they’ve never even seen a Sonic Imploder before.”

However, not everyone is happy about the fantastic deals American police officers are getting on old, intergalactic war machines.

“What does a rural Wisconsin police department need with a Star Destroyer?” said activist and Viroqua, Wisc. resident Gladys Scott while watching officers unload several Landspeeders bought at auction. “I can’t imagine a scenario where they will have to use a E-Web heavy repeating blaster cannon. Yes, I know what it’s called — I may be an activist, but I’m also a ‘Star Wars’ fan. But that doesn’t mean I support getting pulled over by a pig on a Speeder Bike.”

Galactic Economist Ackdoon Chania, Ph.D. at the University of Bar’leth explained that “this is only about money.”

“It’s simple economics, it has nothing to do with the militarization of this planet’s police force,” Chania said. “The Empire just got new, updated Dropships, and apparently this planet needs them and can get them at cost. It is a win-win. They’ll probably never actually use the gross of Neutron Torches they bought, but, as they say, it is better to have them and not need them. I would rather the law have Commando Pistols than for them to fall into the hands of criminals.”

As of press time, four officers have been killed attempting to park a Dreadnaught.

White House Chef Excited to Change Menu from Corn Dogs and Funyuns

Posted on by Cory Cousins

WASHINGTON — White House kitchen staff are reportedly elated by the prospect of cooking “real food” for President-elect Joe Biden instead of preparing the usual corn dogs and Funyuns for the incumbent Donald J. Trump and his family.

“Words cannot describe my relief when Mr. Biden secured the presidency,” said a teary-eyed White House executive chef Rene Archambeau. “We’ve been imprisoned in this culinary dungeon for the past four years, without a vegetable to chop or a fine piece of fish to filet. I never thought a grown man’s taste could be so repugnant and offensive; most nights I just ordered McDonald’s through DoorDash. I’m just glad we won’t have another Easter to deal with — there is no known walk-in fridge large enough to house that many pallets of Peeps.”

“I can’t feel the tips of my fingers anymore because the nerve endings have been singed off from corn dog grease,” lamented White House kitchen sous chef, Alejandro Ortega. “My days are primarily filled with dipping flour-battered hot dog meat into boiling oil vats and opening individual bags of Funyuns and Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos to satiate the incredible appetite the Trump family has for preservative-laden food. The Culinary Institute did not prepare me for such depravity.”

Some, however, worry that Archambeau and his staff may be celebrating prematurely.

“They better not run out of bagel bites and try to sneak in some stupid French fart food while we’re still here!” yelled Trump’s son and human mistake Eric Trump while raiding one of many White House fridges. “Just yesterday, I saw that my dad’s vending machine outside of his office didn’t have any Honey Buns in it anymore — just some ethnic-sounding thing called Gardetto’s. And Sun Chips! What kind of socialist lib-cuck shit is that? Get me Little Debbie on the phone! Hello?! Where did everyone go?”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, in one of his last moves of his lame-duck transition period, President Trump has since barked at Congress today to make fruits and vegetables illegal, threatening an executive order to make tater tots the official U.S. currency if a bill is not passed.

I Didn’t Buy This Band Shirt From Hot Topic Like a Child, I Bought It From Target Like an Adult

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Where did I get this totally sweet retro band shirt, you ask? You might think I bought it from Hot Topic like some sort of teenager who’s too busy racking up TikTok followers to have a matured sense of fashion. Don’t be fooled! I purchased it from Target. Like an adult.

You see, on my eighteenth birthday, I decided it was finally time to grow up. So I burned all of my old Hot Topic shirts and repurchased new ones from Target. Of course, I kept the receipts this time around and filed them away for tax purposes in a folder I won’t be able to find later. I know that sounds like super grown-up stuff but, hey, we’re not kids anymore.

Do I miss my youth? Sure. As a 22-year-old I definitely miss being young. Hell, I still remember high school like it was a couple of years ago even though it was actually a few years ago. I’m already nostalgic for those times I would saunter into Hot Topic, vaped out of my mind, and stand in complete awe of their enormous wall of band shirts. But now, as an adult, I’ve learned to temper my enthusiasm and apathetically rummage through clothing racks at a big boy department store to find music-related merch.

In fact, I won’t even step foot inside a mall anymore unless I absolutely need to get something from Spencer’s Gifts. Like last week when I needed a new lava lamp to complement the Jeff Goldblum tapestry pinned up on my bedroom wall. Or when I have to work my part-time job at Cinnabon in the food court. Actually, I guess I still do go to Hot Topic now and then for those exclusive Funko Pop figurines. Other than those times though you won’t catch me dead inside a mall.

Yep. It’s only a matter of time before I’m a full-blown adult who wears New Balance sneakers for comfort, checks out the minute one of my future kids gets excited about anything, and hangs “live, laugh, love” merch in my living room. Adulting!

Oh, I’ve also started pronouncing Target with a French accent. That seems to be what adults do. Targét, anyone?

Legendary Band Almost Broke Enough to Reunite

Posted on by John Danek

BALTIMORE — Influential powerviolence band ElevenTimesElevenCrimes announced today that expensive car repairs, alimony payments, and a misguided Playstation 4 purchase has made them collectively broke enough to finally reunite.

“We are humbled by our fanbase and our absolute lack of disposable income,” said frontman Max Ingrahm, whose grindcore record label Ripped Jugular recently shut down. “T-shirt sales have trickled off, and we spent our formative years playing music to dozens of people instead of developing the skills valued by the real world. So it’s either reunite, or work for my dad’s medical equipment sales company. We’ve had serious talks about how a reunion could work in these crazy times, and once one of us figures out what a livestream is, we’ll have big news.”

Fans are torn between excitement for the reunion and disappointment in the transparent cash-grab nature of the announcement.

“I have 11 tattoos of this band, so I wish they would at least try to hide the fact that they’re only in this for the money now,” admitted diehard fan Derek Bosch, who named his firstborn son Ghost after ElevenTimesElevenCrimes’ fan favorite track. “Their lyrics were so intense and sincere, but today they’re reposting Craigslist ads to sell the bassist’s Toyota Rav4. The illusion is crumbling in real time. My advice to people is: don’t get band tattoos. They either die heroes, or live long enough to start playing shows in front of an aged, seated audience.”

Financial advisors admit that musicians in niche genres are increasingly forced to reunite in order to live solvent lives.

“While young people may romanticize sleeping on strangers’ floors and living out of a van, no one actually wants to marry an artist who just scrapes by,” stated Regina Toth, an advisor at Fidelity. “A 25¢ toy ring from a grocery store dispenser is not an acceptable engagement ring. All former musicians should reunite and sell some damn merch. Grindcore, folk-punk, and crunkcore musicians need to do whatever they can to apologize for their past behavior and hit that Zoom festival circuit.”

ElevenTimesElevenCrimes is reportedly now debating which of its 13 drummers to reunite with.

Disney to Put Jon Favreau in the Vault for a While

Posted on by Mark Roebuck

BURBANK, Calif. — Following the success of his entries into the Marvel, Disney, and Star Wars universes, Disney has announced plans to put influential writer/director/producer Jon Favreau in their vault for maybe a decade or so, depending on how everything goes.

“Now that Disney+ has negated the idea of arbitrarily hoarding popular content from demanding fans, we’ve got to change the model,” said Bob Iger, executive chairman of Disney. “For this reason, we are going to take Jon, and a couple of friends if he wants, and lock him away for a while, so that when he returns his projects will be even more hotly anticipated then they are now. Think of what he’ll come up with in there, all locked away, nothing on his mind but escape and revenge. It could be enough to launch an entire new saga!”

The modern updating of a classic Disney marketing tool sent shockwaves through the industry, all the way to Favreau himself. 

“Wait, what?” said Favreau, creator of The Mandalorian, after receiving the news. “That can’t be serious, right? The ‘Disney vault,’ wasn’t an actual vault, it was just them not selling a movie for a while. I’ve got post production on Jungle Book 2, and then we’re going right into Mando 3 after that. I can’t be locked away from my work and family for an undisclosed amount of time, that would be inhumane of Disney!” 

Though some have criticized the practice as inhumane, some high profile Disney stars have come to the defense of the practice. 

“I know it sounds rough, but they really have a nice set up in there,” said Rick Moranis, who was recently released from the Disney vault after several decades of contracted captivity. “I was in there drinking sodas and watching movies six months before they came out. It’s actually pretty shitty out here, and if we’re being honest I would love to get back in that vault for a while.”

As of press time, Disney reportedly managed to convince Favreau to enter the vault voluntarily, claiming that it would be “just like he’s a Star Wars character” due to the fact that he is entering a sort of carbonite. He was allowed up to three toys to bring with him.

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Phoenix Wright Ruins Another Wedding

Posted on by Jeremy Kaplowitz

LOS ANGELES — Veteran defense attorney Phoenix Wright has ruined yet another wedding by yelling “OBJECTION!” after the judge said to “speak now or forever hold your peace,” according to those familiar with the situation.

“It is so deeply annoying to watch Phoenix grill every bride and groom about their love lives while they’re standing on the altar. Why are people even inviting him anymore?! Does he sneak in?” said Wright’s rival, prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. “He is a terrific defense attorney, but I don’t think he realizes that he can turn it off. He doesn’t need to be defending those who have not asked for his defense — his friends currently in the middle of their own wedding. Look, I can’t say I’m too different, but everything with this guy is theatrical. In the courtroom and out.”

Despite complaints from friends and family, Wright has defended his decision to “get to the bottom” of every relationship.

“When you get married, you become a union in the eyes of the law. Well the law is where I come in,” Wright recently explained to a crowd of angry wedding guests. “It’s only natural for living creatures to fight to protect their own marriages. But what makes us human is that we fight for others. But who do you fight for? How hard must you fight…? That’s why I need to know exactly what you, Cheryl, meant in your texts to your friend Dan when you said ‘heyyyyyy’ with six ‘y’s.’ What are you hiding?”

At press time, those close to Wright revealed that Dahlia Hawthorne “cheated on him just a whole bunch back in the day.”

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We Discussed the Grunge Movement with Seattle Native Frasier Crane

Posted on by Nick Ortolani

It’s not often that a location becomes synonymous, if even briefly, with a zeitgeist defining artistic movement. Rarer still are the times when such a movement intersects with one of the greatest intellectual renaissances in history. Yet in the early 1990s, a humble northwestern hamlet experienced just that. That’s why we sat down to talk about the grunge movement with Seattle native, Dr. Frasier Crane.

Finally, someone can help us shed some light on the tossed salad and scrambled eggs that was the early grunge scene.

The Hard Times: Thank you for joining us today Frasier
Frasier Crane: Please, please, call me Dr. Crane. Well, what is it you would like to talk about? My decades of broadcast experience? Or perhaps my tenure in Boston? I’m listening. Alright, good, we got that out of the way.
Actually, we wanted to talk to you about Seattle’s grunge scene.
Well that is fantastic. Most people only want to talk about psychiatry or wine. I rarely get to let my hair down. Or what’s left of it.
Well, for starters, were you aware of what was going on at the time?
Well, you might not think to look at me, being the veritable paragon of class and sophistication that I am, but I was at Nirvana’s first show with Mr. Grohl. Yes, I sojourned out to Olympia in my dilapidated jalopy to see them because I was quite a Scream enthusiast. Suffered an avulsed tooth after Mr. Cobain decided to plummet from the stage. Reminded me of Barishnikov in a way.
So you were deep in it?
Yes, yes. On any given evening you could see me swilling Rainier, vagabond that I was at the time, at Off Ramp. I saw Alice and Soundgarden on a double bill there. In fact I came up with my signature catchphrase when Chris Cornell played me one of his early demonstrative recordings. 
Catch Phrase?
I’m listening.  
Oh, right. What about Mudhoney?
Any group that Bulldog holds in high regard I hold at a distance if you catch my meaning. 
Mother Love Bone?
Certainly. A permanent fixture of my father’s record collection, outside of the stag records and German drinking song compilations. After Wood died, that’s when dad started to become more of a homebody. I tried to get him into Temple of The Dog or Pearl Jam, but he said they were just a pale imitation. Of course, he used more colorful language that I’m sure you can’t quite print.
Trust us, we can print it.
Ah, of course. Zines. What Le Tribun du peuple was to Paris, the Zine is to the American unwashed masses.  Oh, well look at the time.They’re expecting me at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new modernist wing at the SAM. You know, talking this all over with you, makes me realize how much I’m a shadow of the young, vibrant bon vivant I used to be. Perhaps I should retread the moist, dimly lit alehouses. Perhaps engage in some inebriated pugilism! Well, au revoir, ciao, and smell ya later.
…is he gone? Shit, we didn’t even get to talk about his dog. 

Woman Frantically Trying to Fix Bluetooth Speaker Ruins Party More Than Broken Speaker Would Have

Posted on by Erin McLaughlin

OMAHA, Neb. — Local basement party host and neurotic mess Eloise Krantz destroyed everything in her path Saturday night while trying to fix her broken speaker to help ensure that partiers had a good time, vexed sources confirm.

“I tried to play a healthy mix of ABBA, early 2000s hits, and funk to hype people up, and I even threw in some Modest Mouse too, in case they thought that those were weird. But my stupid $50 speaker kept cutting out,” said Krantz. “It was a nightmare — the first time it got fuzzy, my heart dropped, and I had to take an emergency Ativan. I ran away mid-conversation like, 12 times to go fix it. I just couldn’t have anyone thinking that I threw a bad party. But after a few hours, I finally got it to work by propping it against a case of beer, so I’m sure everyone had fun.”

Party guest Oliver Mitchell, however, proved Krantz’s assumptions false.

“I’d rate that party, like, two stars at most. She didn’t have enough beer, and was too concerned with the music to let anyone even talk to each other or play beer pong or anything,” said Mitchell. “A bunch of us just left and drank 40s in the 7-Eleven parking lot, so the night ended up being pretty good, overall.”

Krantz’s roommate and co-host Kiera Emmerson was appalled by how the party they’d planned was ruined.

“She can never keep it cool. I saw her leaning over a couple grinding on each other to make sure the speaker was plugged in,” said Emmerson. “Then she ran around for two hours asking everyone if they happened to have a USB-C cable on hand. I was gonna tell her that her desperation for approval was super obvious, but then I remembered that I had promised I’d give this guy my last beer, so I just let her be.”

Krantz reportedly hosted a second, less-attended party last night, where people sat in silence as she spent the entire time trying to get Spotify to work on her TV.

You Either Die a Barista or Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become a Dick Customer

Posted on by Josh Klasco

When I got my first barista gig, I didn’t believe them; all those sad 40-somethings that used to come into the cafe. They would order some iteration of a half-caf soy latte and blabber about their time as a barista, then leave without tipping. I would smile and nod until the end of my shift when I would go meet my friends for a lunch of Fernet Branca and American Spirits with a feeling of superiority. That was nine years ago.

After nearly a decade of listening to these assholes trying to bond with me over their missing youth, I’ve started noticing horrifying signs that give credence to their stories. Now I’m afraid that if I don’t die with a portafilter in my hand, I might turn into one of these dicks.

At first, I thought it was bullshit. When “soy-mocha Mike” started bragging about how he once traded a bag of single-origin coffee for Sleep tickets I figured he was just trying to flirt with my underage co-workers, again. Then there was that yoga lady who always wants to talk to my manager because her cortado “isn’t hot enough.” One day she just casually mentions winning a latte art throwdown. Well, it was easy enough to dismiss these stories as apocryphal. Maybe those yuppies just learned a few buzzwords and we’re trying to distract me from the fact that they never tip.

Then something happened that shook me to the core. I was making a drink for an insurance salesman who claimed he used to play bass in a doom band. He ordered “a latte but with extra foam and a little cooler but not a cappuccino, know what I mean?” so I smiled and made his dumb ass a cappuccino. I had just finished rolling my eyes after swiping his Costco Citibank card when I caught a glimpse of his arm, giving me a shock. It was covered with a Cthulhu tattoo. His story was true, he really did use to play bass in a doom band!

And if his story was true, what about the rest of them? Like the sweater-vest guy who always demands table service even though we aren’t a restaurant; did he really sell his fixie to buy a stroller as he once said? Or the woman who orders blended chais even though they aren’t on the fucking menu. Maybe she really did have her gauges sewn up so she could get into law school. And what about that fat old guy who claimed to be Glenn Danzig?!

And why do none of these fuckers know how to tip?!

Now, I myself am an elderly barista. In two days, it will be my 30th birthday. I can feel my destiny closing in on me, but I won’t let myself fall victim to a fate that has taken so many others. I have resolved to drink this entire gallon of cold brew in one hour. I will either become pure energy or die in a caffeinated blaze of glory.

So can you cover my shift?