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.
Lockdown. Quarantine. Shelter in Place. Shakedown. Breakdown. You’re busted. As we prepare to hole up in our homes for extended times, Americans must have options for what to do while there. We give them to you. The Best. The Worst. You choose.
BEST: Playing board games with your family.
WORST: Creating a homemade puzzle of a clown’s face out of pudding.
BEST: Face-timing friends and relatives to catch up and make sure they’re all right.
WORST: Trying to contact UFOs without leaving your house by yelling loud enough for them to hear you.
BEST: Binge watch those shows you’ve been meaning to get to.
WORST: Stare at that weird part of your wall till it finally opens up and allows you into a Narnia-type world where you are king.
BEST: Keep a journal where you write about all the things you’re thankful for.
WORST: Finally get back to your “hit list” where you compile all the names of people who’ve wronged you over the years.
BEST: Play chess online to sharpen your mind.
WORST: Play Russian roulette online with real Russians.
BEST: Write that novel, screenplay, poem you always promised yourself you would.
WORST: Complete your manifesto for how you will create of a race of Bigfoots who you will use to destroy the human race (except you).
BEST: Work out. Exercise till you lose some weight and get in great shape.
WORST: Set a goal to leave quarantine with a ten-inch penis and give yourself no room for failure.
BEST: Read a book.
WORST: Finally figure out how to suck your own dick so that you don’t care about the quarantine anymore.
The debate is endless. Who was the greatest fighter ever? Historians and sports enthusiasts will differ, but after an extensive study of fighters from all disciplines and eras, the Intergalactic Business Report has calculated definitively the best and worst fighters of all time.
Our complex algorithm sifted through thousands of data sets and accounted for every variable imaginable. Therefore, we feel strongly that our results are certified and actual. And now, the best and worst fighters of all time…
BEST FIGHTER OF ALL TIME: Mike Tyson.
WORST FIGHTER OF ALL TIME: Your mom fighting urges to have sex with random men.
Prank phone calls. They’re hilarious. But they’re also only as good as the fake name you give the one you’re pranking. Using its exclusive language arts computer algorithm, the Intergalactic Business Report has generated a brand new list of sure to make your next crank call's the best ever. Just say hello and ask for:
BEST: Gather your best friends, find a quiet pub, and ring in the new year with laughter and thought-provoking conversation.
WORST: Find a quiet pub and stare at the group of best friends at the other table. Laugh loudly when they laugh. Then ask if one of them will help you use the bathroom.
BEST: Take the one you love on a romantic date that features champagne, exquisite food, and ends with you kissing as fireworks explode in the distance.
WORST: Take someone who likes you way more than you like them on a booze cruise where you hook up with the bartender in the bathroom and accidentally explode in your pants.
BEST: Take stock of your past year by recalling your triumphs and learning from your errors. Make a plan for how next year will be even better.
WORST: Change the date on your phone and pretend it’s a time before you completely fucked up your life.
BEST: Call old friends and wish them Happy New Year!
WORST: Do that thing where you call your friend you haven’t seen since high school but you won’t say who you are and then the cops have to tell him that the phone call is coming from inside his house.
BEST: Crack open a bottle of bubbly and watch a fireworks show.
WORST: Smoke crack with some dude named Bobby Bubbly and watch him freak out about some football team you’ve never heard of, mainly because it only exists in Bobby’s mind and they’re about to lose the fucking Super Bowl unless he shoots you.
BEST: Celebrate hard with your wildest friends on a New Year’s Eve pub crawl.
WORST: Celebrate hard by having a full-on erection that makes everyone uncomfortable to the point they’re saying things like, “Who let this guy in?” and “Is this the guy the cops are looking for?”
Charities. You give them money so you don’t have to do anything yourself except give money and then you wonder if they’re even doing anything with the money you gave them so you wait for a letter or phone call to tell you what they’re doing only they just call to see if you’ll give them more and you do because you don’t want to do anything yourself and so on…
Today, the Intergalactic Business Report reveals the world’s best and worst among them so you can act informed as you blithely donate, wait, and masturbate.
BEST: Heifer International. “Working to end hunger and poverty around the world by providing livestock and training to struggling communities.”
WORST: Greek farmers’ Dating Association. Tinder style matching between livestock and Greek farmers.
BEST: United Way. “Fights for the health, education, and financial stability of every person in every community.”
WORST: Mr. Frenner’s Way. Junior high Vice-Principal Gerald Frenner has some pretty strict rules for how things should be done. Now you can subsidize his income as he punishes students who misuse chewing gum and ask to use the bathroom but are really going there to vape only to find Mr. Frenner in the next stall, waiting to bust them.
BEST: World Wildlife Fund (WWF). “The leading organization in wildlife conservation and endangered species.”
WORST: World Wrestling Federation (WWF).
BEST: Sierra Club. “Explore, enjoy, and protect the planet.”
WORST: I Give Up Club. “Saying, fuck this, it’s too hard, and just getting on with your life.”
BEST: Ducks Unlimited. “Conserves, restores, and manages wetlands and associated habitats for North America's waterfowl.”
WORST: Chupacabras Unlimited. “Conserves, restores, and manages habitats for North America’s Chupacabras.”
BEST: Future Farmers of America. “Preparing members for leadership and careers in the science, business and technology of agriculture.”
WORST: Future Pork Pullers of America. A charity focused on group masturbation somehow bringing about world peace, which it would, if everyone jacked off at exactly the same time, making it very difficult to hold weapons or chase people.
Nobody ever says no to getting drunk (unless you’re a freak), but you may want to say no to some of America’s worst cocktails.
The Intergalactic Business Report recently did a deep dive into our country’s hottest bars to uncover some of the very best and very worst drinks. See them below:
WORST: Butt plug selzer.
BEST: Gin Fizz.
WORST: Shit water on ice.
BEST: Peppermint Pattie.
WORST: Crème de Menthe with mild ass drippings.
WORST: Bung cup with a cucumber garnish.
BEST: Finger stirred Negroni.
WORST: Penis stirred vodka shooter.
BEST: Jonn the Beachcomber.
WORST: John Fabrizio’s frumunda cheese cocktail sandwich.
BEST: Old Fashioned.
WORST: The super old-fashioned: Grandma’s ballsack infused copper ale.
WORST: Pube strained Tequilla with a lemon twist.
As we become mired in the summer music festival season, the Intergalactic Business Report rates the best and worst places to go if you want to spend your time kind of hearing music while smelling the body odor of dudes in tank tops while you figure out whether it’s their stench or the alcohol that’s going to make you collapse and forget you were even there.
BEST: Coachella. Plan ahead for the 2020 event as tickets went on sale this June.
WORST: Coach Ella. We recommend skipping this festival run by former women’s volleyball coach Ella Sundberry because it’s basically her and a guitar that she doesn’t really know how to play and she just stares at you like she’s going to eat you or something.
BEST: Pitchfork. In it’s 14th year, Pitchfork will feature 40+ acts in Chicago’s Union Park.
WORST: BitchMork. In it’s 1st year ever, Robin Williams impersonator Jerry Fitzellis plays a bitchy version of Mork from Ork as he guides you through a universe of his favorite Yacht Rock songs that he’s pretty sure Mork would have listened to in 1979 Boulder, Colorado.*
BEST: Lollapalooza. Come to Grant Park in Chicago for the millionth year of this cultural fixture.
WORST: Larry’s pal Louisa. Larry couldn’t play music, so his friend Louisa does for him. And it’s all an interpretation of whatever she believes Larry is thinking. And it sounds kind of like someone screaming for an hour. Mostly because Louisa just screams for about an hour. Oh, and they don’t sell alcohol.
BEST: Glastonbury. Come out to Worthy Farm in the U.K. to see some of the biggest names in music.
WORST: The best of Masterpiece Theatre song festival. This British music fest features your favorite instrumental music from Masterpiece Theatre shows like I Claudius, Jeeves and Wooster, and Blimey, the first intellectual prank show from 1973 in which jokesters use improper grammar in public settings and wait for horrified reactions from their unsuspecting victims.
BEST: Bonnaroo. 150 plus epic performances somewhere in Tennessee.
WORST: Boneroo. Kind of the same only it’s a penis measuring contest with no music whatsoever. It is, however, in rural Tennessee, so there’s that.
BEST: Woodstock 50. Celebrate the 50th anniversary of the iconic music fest in Watkins Glen, NY.
WORST: The real Woodstock 50. This competing festival features dirty hippies who grope you while you take a mud shower.
*We might actually switch this one to the “best” category.
It’s the future and instead of cars we all have spaceships. Or, more realistically, it’s not the future but you think about what you would name a spaceship if you had one, in the future.
Whatever the situation, you only get one chance to give your vessel a title that befits it, so don’t screw it up by naming it one of the worst names ever. Take our advice below and command the universe.
BEST: Star searcher 9.
WORST: Star search hosted by Ed McMahon.
BEST: Universe explorer.
WORST: Feelings Explorer.
BEST: Space seeker 1.
WORST: Vagina seeker 69 (decommissioned for failure to find anything).
BEST: Odyssey 41.
WORST: Odd sister who’s forty-one and still isn’t married. Doesn’t even have a boyfriend.
BEST: Limitless 6.
WORST: Need to be home for dinner at six.
BEST: Battle fleet commander.
WORST: Butt and feet that smell like coriander.
WORST: Talks a lot of shit but pussies out of the actual fight(er).
The best. The worst. You don't need to decide, because we do for you.