The Intergalactic Business Report is humbled by the recent news that it has been awarded the prestigious Intergalactic Business Report prize for the best coverage anywhere of the Coronavirus crisis. Supreme editor Dusty Latouffe has this message about the nature of the award and what it means for our publication.
It is with great humility that I accept the first ever Intergalactic Business Report award for best coverage in the entire universe of the Corona virus situation. I was shocked and surprised to hear that we had won over the likes of the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and all major news networks on the planet.
That we were selected is an honor. But it is also a reminder that those other places do suck. And they suck hard. I offer them my sincere appreciation for their contribution to the news, but at the same time I offer them my giant dick to suck upon.
Some critics have said that the Intergalactic Business Report shouldn’t be allowed to win its own prize. But yet we did, against all odds. Naysayers and prognosticators all told us that it was impossible because winning our own prize could only be done if we somehow cheated or “rigged the system” in our favor.
To these people, I can only say, “Look who won.” It was us. Clearly. This is the kind of proof that no one can dispute. And, again, to these critics I offer my thick, veiny penis for them to suck thoroughly.
I want to thank the elite panel that did select us for this award, which some people compare to the Nobel Prize or what you get when you solve math equations that look made up. As part of that panel, I cast my vote secretly, which is what the founding fathers of our nation would expect and honor. While I will never break my sacred bond and reveal my choice for this award, I can say that I voted for the Intergalactic Business Report because it is, as I wrote in my secret remarks, “way better than those other piece-of-shit pieces of crap.” I think that says it all.
Will this prize change the way we deliver you, our readers, information in a way no other publication can? It’s possible. But only if we lose our core values, are bribed by someone with significant money, or offered free penis enhancement surgery (even the kind in Mexico where you’re not really sure if it’s legit and you could wake up with a horse dick they just sewed to your leg).
But until any of that happens, I hope you’ll look forward to our continued coverage of not only the Coronavirus, but all the other stuff too.
All the best,
Dusty Latouffe, Supreme Editor, The Intergalactic Business Report.
Don’t feel bad about your self-quarantines and shelter in place orders. It could be worse. Just check out Mayor Carlos Montalvinho’s town.
YOUR RULES: Stores are closed, except for essential services like groceries and gas.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Everything’s open and you are required to enter days long “Lambada” contests to prove your loyalty to Carlos. First one to stop dancing is a snitch. Last one standing is considered loyal… Till the next Lambada contest the next day.
YOUR RULES: You need to keep at least six feet of distance between you and others.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Dig your own grave six feet deep and have it ready in case Carlos decides you’re a snitch.
YOUR RULES: Wash your hands thoroughly for about a minute.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: File the fingerprints off your hands thoroughly for about five hours so that no one can trace you.
YOUR RULES: Don’t breathe or expel saliva around other people.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Carlos is constantly doing “lineups” where villagers like you need to stand silently as he marches up and down the line and complains about the lack of loyalty and how all of you are probably snitches. He tends to spit a lot when he talks. Probably doesn’t mean to. But he does and it’s a ton of spit.
YOUR RULES: Use “contactless” food delivery.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Sancho, the village cook, isn’t allowed to use a spoon to stir or serve things anymore because Carlos thinks he may try to murder him with it. But Carlos hasn’t killed him yet because he’s the only cook. So, anyway, you need to eat whatever Sancho stirs and serves you with his hands.
YOUR RULES: Wear a mask to cover your mouth and nose.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Wear a mask to hide your identity as you are forced to rob banks and grocery stores in neighboring towns.
YOUR RULES: Sanitize surfaces with disinfectant.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Sanitize dead bodies with lye.
YOUR RULES: You can take walks with your family.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Your “family” is the other drug mules, assassins, and prostitutes you live and work with. You can take walks with them. Just don’t leave your assigned area of the village, look like you’re stealing anything, or wear clothes where you could hide stuff you’re stealing.
The best. The worst. You don't need to decide, because we do for you.