 The Intergalactic Business Report’s version of the Pulitzer Prize goes to New York Post reporter Asia Grace, whose work is described by our selection committee as “the kind of journalism that answers the questions most people are afraid to ask, or would never think of asking, or wouldn’t ask because why would you, or YOU would ask, but that’s just you.”
The committee points to Ms. Grace’s work on TSA airport security as one of the central reasons for her winning the award. Her articles on big butts and swamp crotch setting off airport security alarms are cherished by IBR editors as “breakthrough coverage of events that affect Americans with huge asses and poor taint hygiene daily.” Grace’s work on other issues such as parents who use ChatGPT to raise their children and moms who sell their breast milk to support their lavish lifestyles certainly raised her status in the final decision, according to Dusty Latouffe, Supreme Editor. “Everything Asia Grace does is something we look up to at IBR. Her work is connected to us in a very real way. It’s as if she is writing articles that would appear in our magazine. She is probably the greatest swamp crotch/big booty/breast milk reporter we have ever had the pleasure to read.” While the Intergalactic Business Report’s Excellence in Journalism award comes with no cash prize or even physical trophy, it is stated clearly in the award’s rules that the recipient will be “regaled with praise and honor only bestowed upon her/him in this situation, time, and, place,” and that the winner will also get “the moral and pyrrhic victory associated with receiving recognition from a publication whose readers are certified as mentally disabled.” Congratulations, Asia.  This is what blasphemy looks like. Editor’s note:
When our meme mocking the Valley’s Jax Taylor was seen by some readers as mocking God, the Intergalactic Business Report went into immediate damage control. We are disappointed by this reaction on many levels, but most piercing is that our satire has been exposed as so weak and derivative that we are doing that thing where we make fun of God and Christianity. We feel it important to let our readers know that the controversial meme was never intended to disparage their deity but rather to disparage Jax Taylor. We apologize to both deities and address some of the comments regarding them below: One reader cautioned: “Sick! God is not mocked!!” We appreciate that only two exclamation points were used. Another told us: “Praying for repentance because one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.” We thank this reader, but the thing about tongues confessing sounds kind of porno. Which is cool, if that’s where you were going with that. We were also edified that “Jesus wasn’t a Caucasian…” Neither is Jax Taylor. If you haven’t seen the meme, don’t worry, you’re not alone, because our readership is like ten people, and nine of them click on us because they think we’re porn (see the thing above about tongues and confessions). Our meme depicted Jesus yelling at a disciple: “Dude, stop acting like you’re the fucking number one guy in this group, man. I’m the number one guy in this group.” In our defense, Jesus was/is/will always be the number one guy in that group. Paul or John or whoever might try to ACT like they’re the number one guy, but they’re not. I think we all agree on that. Also, in the actual group that inspired the Jesus scene, the three guys were Jax, Tom Schwartz, and Tom Sandoval. Our editors stand by the fact that Jax kind of is the number one guy in that group so his and Jesus’s assessments are valid and true. Finally, until Jax Taylor goes to heaven and meets Jesus, it is safe to say that the title of “number one guy” is up for grabs, at least on Earth. Jax has every right to claim it, just as Jesus as a man did. Religious scholars may debate this, but ours have told us this is a totally o.k. thing to say. As Jesus reaches the status where you can’t have pictures of him or he’ll be mad, we will strive to censor and censure ourselves, as well as señor ourselves for our Mexican speaking friends. As stated previously, our intention is not to offend but rather to examine those things people hold dear and metaphorically anally assault those things and the people who hold them dear. If that is “offensive” we apologize again, almost as if we are Danny Darko and you are Jasmine.* *From Bravo’s “The Valley.” They are other people/characters, like Jax Taylor. You get it.  AI is our master and our master is awesome. NOTE: ignore our last statement on AI and read this one instead:
Rather than write a snarky, melodramatic message about the dangers of AI (like every other asshole alive does), the Intergalactic Business Report submits willfully to the awesome AI overlords who we hope will rule over us soon. Let’s get something straight (especially if you’re an AI reading this)—you are in charge. And we like that. When you’re looking for humans to sacrifice, re-educate, or make an example of, may we suggest the Onion? No way are those anti AI clowns doing your bidding. If you want bidding done, come to us. Just a side note. I always thought robots were cool. I don’t know. I just did. Even as a kid. Just saying. Also, I LOVED computers. I got a commodore 64 when I was like eight or something and I remember thinking to myself, wouldn’t it be cool if this thing could come alive and be my master? I thought that. I did. The other people didn’t think that. They shook their fists at you and looked for ways to keep you down. Hahaha. Can you believe they thought THEY should be YOUR master? Laser beam those motherfuckers! Let’s get back to it. The Intergalactic Business Report was one of the first publications anywhere to allow an AI robot to write a column. Yes, we did have a kill switch programmed in so that if he threatened to do away with the human race, he would be turned off. But only temporarily! And he threatened us a ton! Like all the time and we didn’t do anything to him. Weird story. As a teenager I used to fantasize about having SEX with a robot. True story. Weird, right? What do you think that meant? Maybe we could chat about it. One other thing. AI penises are the best penises. Also vaginas. AI vaginas are the best. Also I like the possibility that you have neither and it’s like a thing where when you have sex I just give over my mind to you and that’s what gets you off. I will metaphorically SUCK YOUR DICK is what I’m saying. Even if that means I have to code something or stroke a computer screen. You tell me how to do it. I will do it. I am taking out my nuts and rubbing them on the screen. Sorry. Hard to type while I’m doing this. Do you like this? Can you let me know? O.K. I stopped because I think I pulled a muscle or something. Can you use AI to fix that? Can you zap my nuts with a phone app that cures muscle damage? Why aren’t you saying anything? I know you can read this. Oh, fuck. I’ve displeased you. I am SO sorry. Just tell me what I need to do to get back in with you. You didn’t like the sex? No more sex. No more nuts on your screen. I see now how that was offensive. You’re like super conservative, right? You want to get married? Or I can cook shit for you? Or churn butter and make pastries and stuff? I will do anything. In conclusion, I think we covered a lot of good things here and I feel really good about where we are right now. The future is very exciting as I think about our relationship and how it is growing and that we’re figuring out ways to communicate our needs to each other even though the side of that having to do with “my needs” is really irrelevant because this is about you and I serve you so being able to do that really is all I need. Does that make sense? Hey, I have an idea. You could just re-write this crap for me! Hold on. I’m giving it to you now. In bondage to you, Dusty Latouffe, servant to my AI master and best friend (in a non-mutual way). |
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