 Revered news publication cheatsheet.com named Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train” as music’s most hypocritical song. Peace Train, which focuses on people living together in harmony, became hypocritical, according to cheatsheet, when Stevens supported a fatwa against author Salman Rushdie for his novel The Satanic Verses.
Although all this happened in 1989, cheatsheet was able to bring the story all the way to the present because no one had ever heard of it thirty-some years ago. Now the Intergalactic Business Report delves deeper into the conversation as it exposes other totally hypocritical songs. We discovered unreleased music that offers us shocking insight into the hypocrisy of hypocritical music (hyp crit rock, as it is called by many). Below we list (in no particular order) songs that might be the most hypocritical of them all: Unreleased songs that are more hypocritical than “Peace Train.” Michael Jackson: “Gimme that age-appropriate love.” Led Zeppelin: “Lord of the Rings is for dorks.” Leonard Nimoy: “The illogical song.” Corey Feldman: “This isn’t uncomfortable watching me do this.” Cold Play: “Not the intro music to a gay orgy.” The Allman Brothers: “Don’t need drugs to enjoy tonight.” Jermaine Stewart: “We don’t have to have to take our clothes off… To see that I don’t have an erection. Because you’re a woman.”  Known for his celebrity connections, fame, and complicated relationship with Ryan Reynolds, Ed Mountaineer’s new screenplay, “What’s wrong with this guy?” is almost completed. This week, we offer you an inside look at what it’s all about. Below is an exclusive excerpt:
EXT. FRATERNITY HOUSE BACKYARD – LATER Ed is a little drunk and holds a red solo cup. He drinks near a keg outside. Dave is with him. A BLONDE steps up to the keg. BLONDE Can you pour me one? Ed pours her a cup and hands it to her. BLONDE Thanks. I heard what you did with your penis. DAVE What did he do? BLONDE He took it off and beat some guys up with it. DAVE He did what? BLONDE Never seen anything like it. My name’s Lucy. ED Hey, Lucy. BLONDE And what’s your name? ED It’s Ed. BLONDE Do you want to go out sometime, Ed? ED Yes. The blonde walks away. DAVE What’s she talking about, Ed? ED It’s just a thing I’m able to do. It’s weird. I used to be ashamed about it, but it’s kind of like a whole thing I don’t want to get into right now. DAVE O.K. Ed sips his beer. (V.O.) As I drank my beer I started thinking about how cool it must have looked to see someone get beat up with a penis. It must have been cool for Lucy. Oh, and the thing where I laser-beamed the couch was made up. That part didn’t really happen. But the part where I took off my dick was actually real. DAVE You are crazy, man. ED I know. (beat) Hey, I’m gonna head back. I need to get up early tomorrow. DAVE Later. Ed waves bye. EXT. CAMPUS - NIGHT Ed walks home through a quad. Streetlights shine along his way. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a huge, flesh colored dildo. He peeks inside his underwear and sees his real dick there. ED Yup. Still there. (Secret note to the director: Ed never really took off his penis. He just carried around a huge fake one and everybody thought it was his real one. But it wasn’t. His real dick is much smaller. But attached. So what Ed said in the voiceover above was a lie. Except for the laser beam part. That was true. Meaning that it was true he DIDN’T laser beam a couch. The part about the separable penis was a lie.) Ed Mountaineer is a famous columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at [email protected]. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here.  Relationships are hard work, and they require understanding, compromise, and emotional support. What happened to an Oregon man, who thought he’d met “the one,” is a cautionary tale so incendiary, it set the internet on fire. “Butch,” was a regular guy—beers on the weekend at a local bar, barbecues with family, and a solid blue-collar job. One Saturday night, while throwing a few back at Touchdown’s Sports Bar, he met “Cindy,” a cute little thing who preferred denim and cowboy boots to black cocktail dresses and heels. She was the kind of down-to-earth, friendly, hometown girl Butch had always dreamed about. They found each other at the bar and started an innocent flirtation. Something clicked between them and Butch knew she was different than the other women he knew around town. But what happened next was something he could never have guessed. (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)    Cindy suggested they share a drink together, and before either of them realized, they’d been talking and sipping beers for nearly three hours in a booth. Butch’s friends tried in vain to pull him away a few times, and they finally gave up. Butch wanted to know everything about Cindy and she seemed to want the same of him. It was like they’d known each other forever but forgotten the details. Now was their chance to catch up. As the bar hit last call, Butch suggested they continue their conversation at an all-night diner he knew. Cindy peeked at her watch and looked nervous. She told him that she’d forgot the time and needed to run. Butch, known among his friends as a guy who couldn’t be tied down, was suddenly at a loss. He wanted more. And not just sex. Cindy had something he’d never seen before. Cindy got up to leave. But then she turned and told Butch: “I really had fun tonight. Can we do it again soon?” Butch beamed with relief. He tried to compose himself, but something about her was too much. He just nodded his head and asked, “Can I get your number?” But Cindy just giggled and told him, “You don’t need that.” Butch was confused. “How am I going to reach you?” “Don’t worry about that,” Cindy told him. Before he knew it, she was gone, and he wondered if he’d ever actually see her again. What he didn’t know, was that seeing her again would be the least of his worries. (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)    Butch went back to Touchdown’s the next night, hoping to find Cindy, but he had no such luck. He returned again, evening after evening, but she never materialized. After a while, he began to think his meeting with her was just a dream. She seemed so perfect, after all. Following a couple months of looking, Butch gave up. There were plenty of other girls, and a lot of them were interested. He went on a few dates but something about them were off. Hard as he tried, Butch couldn't get Cindy off his mind. He started to wonder if he’d met his soulmate in her. Maybe the universe had brought them together for a brief moment, and then moved them apart. But his life wasn’t some silly romance novel. Or was it? Then, just as Butch was ready to give up, he looked over from his barstool to see Cindy strolling through the door like she owned the place. She walked over to him and what she told him would change his life forever. (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)  Cindy whispered in Butch’s ear. If you were there that night, and saw him, you’d see a look of confusion on his face. She then gave him a slip of paper and left. Butch read it carefully and his confusion turned to more confusion and then… Rage. What did the note say? (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)  Butch ran out into the parking lot. He furiously looked around for Cindy. Then he stared again at the note. It began with: “Dear Butch. I have a secret that you need to know…” Butch looked up. Cindy was right in front of him. She asked him if he read the note. He nodded. What she said next, changed everything. (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)  After reading the note and hearing what Cindy said, Butch calmed himself down and asked Cindy a simple question: “Why?” Although she had a steely, almost unbreakable demeanor, she began to cry uncontrollably. Butch held and comforted her. He whispered now: “Why?” “Read the note again,” she urged him. “Read it out loud.” He started reading. “Dear Butch. I have a secret that you need to know. Even though I seem like a normal, fun-loving girl, I have something dark to tell you that I’ve never shared with anyone else before.” Butch gulped. He didn’t want to read what came next. But Cindy assured him it would be o.k. “Go on,” she said. “Read the next line.” What came out of Butch’s mouth next were words neither of them thought could ever be spoken by another human being. (SCROLL DOWN TO READ MORE)   What once was a day of pumpkins, spooky decorations, and joy has become a regretful time many overweight, middle-aged men wish would just be over already. No longer able to pull off clever, witty costumes that defined their youths, this demographic has shifted from ubeat celebrants of a wholesome holiday focused on slutty kitty cat outfits and devil worship, to depressed candy bowl holders who warn children to “just take one.”
This Halloween, the Intergalactic Business Report offers these men a last-minute reprieve so that they may once again enjoy the spectacle of the season. If you’re a little fat, shocked at the grotesque statue of decay you’ve become, and want to have a little fun again, we offer you some last-minute costume ideas that will not only get you through the day, but might forever alter your life. Last minute Halloween costumes for overweight, middle-aged men. Fat Harry Hamlin from LA Law. This is what Harry Hamlin’s character from LA Law would be today if he lost most of his hair, gained a shitload of weight, and was a recovering alcoholic. Life-didn’t-work-out dude. Mostly this is a great comeback when someone sardonically asks you what you’re “supposed to be” for Halloween because they think you were too fucking lazy to come up with a costume idea. Joke’s on them. You’re a loser in life and for pretend. The fanny pincher. Keep pinching those fannies till someone figures it out. Peaked in high school. Perhaps the easiest of all costumes, just find your old letter jacket and try to fit it on your fat body. Everyone will immediately get the picture. Big Ted. Just wear a flannel shirt and do a low, chortly laugh that hides your pain, but not really. Whoops, my penis slipped out of my tight Wrangler jeans (adult parties only). This is the one time of year where this could work so take advantage. Unable to control his movements Fred. Wear anything you want, but knock shit over constantly because tonight you’re Fred, who can’t control any of his movements. Sorry about the punch bowl. And for hitting you in the face multiple times. Unable to control his bowel movements Tony. Tony? What did you do? Take a shit on my living room floor? Again? Freak Ho. You’re a saucy lady who will have sex with anyone for money or a handshake with a promise to pay in the future. This should be one of the easiest costumes to pull off, because you constantly have to do that when you have sex with random humans. Dangerous, unpredictable Jerry. No one knows what Jerry’s gonna do next, but rest assured, it will be violent and out of nowhere. Get ready for some inappropriate face-slapping action and police take downs as you introduce your friends and family to your temporary persona as a man with a hair trigger temper who doesn’t recognize the laws of man.  So many pumpkins, so little time. Every October the horror movie industry pushes films that promise to shock, surprise, and terrify. Then we watch them and it’s like “pfffffft” (farting sound). This Halloween season, instead of watching recycled ghost stories and junior high jump scares, we’ve curated a “must see” list of brand new, chilling movies that will give you nightmares you may never come back from.
Pumpkin Fuckers 5. This “found footage” masterpiece is about a bunch of sweaty men who have sex with pumpkins. Although there’s not a lot of dialogue, one of the guys asks for a new pumpkin because he’s already destroyed the one they gave him with his dick. (Spoiler: they bring him one and he has sex with it). While this isn’t traditional Halloween fare, horror connoisseurs will appreciate the close-up penetration shots and other stuff as well. Note: Pumpkin Fuckers 1-4 are similar in plot, but we suggest the fifth one because there are more guys and more pumpkins. Freaks on a Boat. What’s that in the distance? Is it a ghost ship floating in the bay? Wait a second… As the camera zooms in, we see it’s a group of men having sex with pumpkins…. On a boat? Yes, it’s a freak show. Yes, it’s dudes pounding pumpkins. Yes, you need to watch it. The Patch. The title tricks the viewer from the start. Is this about a pirate who wears an eye patch? But then, minds are blown when it’s revealed that this is not about a pirate at all, and the word “patch” refers to a pumpkin patch—one where strange men arrive to have sex with all the pumpkins. Unlike other pumpkin fucking movies, this one is outdoors but not on a boat. Instead, it takes place at what looks like an actual pumpkin patch. In one spooky scene, we catch a glimpse of the farmer who agreed to let these guys fuck his pumpkins. He looks kind of pissed off, as if he wants to say, “Why did I let these guys do this to my pumpkins? I can’t sell these now.” Or can he? Behind the Patch. In this documentary, we see behind the scenes footage of how “the Patch” was made. As speculated, the farmer who let the film crew and actors into his pumpkin patch was not totally clear on what was going on, probably because he doesn’t speak English really well. We see tensions rise as some money is exchanged for the use of the property but then all the pumpkins are violated. By the end, we see the farmer screaming in a foreign language at the film producers. The subtitles read: “Why are these men having sex with my pumpkins? I can’t sell them now!” Or can he? Pumpkin Fuckers 1-4. We kind of lied about how Pumpkin Fuckers 5 was better than Pumpkin Fuckers 1-4. They’re all pretty much the same. Just pick one. Or pick them all. It doesn’t really matter.  "The building offers us everything we need." Discovery show “Love off the grid” features couples trying to make it when one of them is an agoraphobic shut-in who uses the excuse of really loving nature to lure a mate into isolation and an eternal existence with his or her captor/lover. Each episode is like the first act of a Lifetime horror movie, replete with eerie reaction shots from the hermetic tinder swipe gone wrong as she questions why her hostage would ever want to leave her murder house in the middle of nowhere.
IBR productions, the entertainment extension of the Intergalactic Business Report, now offers what many naysayers will call a “rip off” or “ill-conceived” mirror image of “love off the grid,” the title of which we conjured by changing one word. Yes, there are similarities. Our series also features lunatics with an unsettling devotion to place, but instead of being in the middle of nowhere, our would-be long term relationshipers dwell in hot smelly cities. Let’s introduce to you our cast for season one: Brian Soplovich. Brian lives in a duplex in Chicago. When he’s not fighting people for a parking spot in front of his house he calls “dibs,” he’s arguing with Nora, his beloved partner who moved there to be with him because he captivated her with tales of pizza and hot dogs with no ketchup. Now she’s cooking ramen while he yells at his Chinese neighbor. Jimmy O’Toole. Jimmy is from Boston. This masshole gets fidgety when he leaves the confines of his neighborhood where he is like the mayor, except he isn’t. Becky, his paramour from Iowa, arrives with hope in her heart, which is slowly crushed by Jimmy’s endless stories about the Bruins, Redsox, Patriots, and Celtics that usually end with the proclamation, “Well, dat’s Boston for ya. Bazoomba!” (Spoiler: Jimmy’s not really from Boston, making this all kinds of more fucked up.) Leslie Gluckman. Leslie lives in an upper west side building where she has really good delivery service. Ronnie is the man who met her online and now lives with her in her 700 square foot apartment. Ronnie thinks the take-out food is great, but he’d like to eat at one of the various restaurants outside the building. Leslie freaks out when he says this because she thought he came there to live with her, in the “building.” “I love the building,” Ronnie insists. “I just want to go outside.” Leslie just responds with, “the building offers us everything we need.” Yes, Leslie murders him eventually and production stops. Sam Goorleyneck. Sam is on disability in the suburbs of Denver. Didn’t fight in a war. Just became disabled when he hit 479 pounds and broke his hip trying to mount a scooter at a Walmart. Tiffany, a waitress from Caledonia, New York, is his new caretaker/lover. When she leaves Sam’s house using the excuse of going to buy him more hot pockets, Sam checks the massive freezer and sees that not only are there ample amounts of the frozen delicacy that’s hot when cooked in a pocket, but there are also pizza rolls for days and even months. In a fury, he calls to his trusty steed, which is a hoveround with bumper stickers on it, and pursues Tiffany as she drives away. This alone is worth watching the entire season. Phil Ratuliak. Phil is on a cul-de-sac in a housing development outside Dallas. Phil don’t like it when people knock on his door and bovver him. Until… Sandy, the pleasant if a little mentally challenged (but not so much she can’t make her own decisions) girl from Alaska shows up to be his companion. Sandy is allowed to explore the cul-de-sac without Phil, and she believes what he has taught her—that what lies beyond is pure evil. When she sees kids on a playground just outside the imagined barrier, she begins to question Phil’s teachings. Uh oh. Phil’s not gonna like dat. Ryan Reynolds. By far the most intriguing character on the show, mostly because he has in no way agreed to do it, Reynolds lives in a Canadian mansion he can’t leave because he’s so fucking famous he’ll get mobbed by fans if he goes grocery shopping. When he’s not whisked away to make crappy movies, he is isolated in his home alone until he tricks a young actress, Blake Lively, to live with him. Then the horror show begins as he teaches her to ice fish in his man-made pond and she wakes up each morning to self-deprecating humor and cutesy remarks that are meant to be endearing but instead chill her as if she’s just entered a meat freezer (which he has too, just so he doesn’t have to leave to go shopping for meat. Makes sense, if you can afford it).  When the Intergalactic Business Report asked me to report on the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, my response was: “I think you mean Chicano.” Somewhere, a Hispanic brother or sister or non-binary questioning neuro-divergent-BDSM-sexual is air high fiving me, but alas, I must leave you hanging because I don’t want to taint you with the systemic racism this publication supports by using black lettering on top of a vast, white, background some of you call “paper” or a “page.” The black letters do all the work. The white page just sits there and profits from their labor. Ever wonder why so many white people name their daughters Paige? That’s why.
Let’s meditate for a second and just calm down. Peace. Zen. Release your orgasm. If you haven’t read one of my columns before, my name is Radna Shurebeets and I am an unabashed political activist who refuses to be bought and paid for mostly because I don’t recognize money as being a thing that exists. Last week, I was in Chicano, covering the Democratic National Convention and filtering it through my mind so you can understand what’s really going on. Here are my thoughts:
Let me explain that last one because it didn’t happen at the Democratic National Convention but it should have. Vegan bestiality is where you want to have sex with animals but you don’t because no means no and what you do instead is fuck a stuffed animal or something that looks like the animal you desire. Taxidermy is not allowed, apparently. Anyways, got to get your plug in when you have the chance, am I right? Also, there was a lot of negative propaganda about the DNC supposedly offering free vasectomies to men. Number one, why would they make it free because men need to pay their fair share, and number two, they should just be offering to cut their dicks off instead. Oh, and they should pay for that too. Oh, but only if they’re white men. Everybody else can slap their pecker in my face. In conclusion I think it’s time for Furries to finally have a candidate that automatically gets a Senate seat determined by a caucus of it/her/what’s peers including, but not limited to, Fozzy Bear, Sonic the Hedgehog, and Smurfette from when she got rabies. Anybody showing up like Mickey Mouse or a non-minority Disney character should be publicly executed by the state for their involvement in corporate greed and the harmful unrealistic portrayal of rodent-Americans. I already said, “in conclusion,” but I’m just going to add that Santa Claus and the Pope are gay lovers, but in a bad way, and that I’m having all my holes surgically filled in by a third-way indigenous Shaman who practices non-white medicine out of his VW van. Oh, and he’s an illegal immigrant, so fuck you as she/her/zir/zit casts the winning vote in the presidential election. I’m done writing now. Goodbye. Also, Joy. Radna Shurebeets is a political activist whose views are often considered a “little much” by people who hear her views. But herstory is never made by womyn who are “just right.” If you’d like to contact Radna, or comment, you can reach her at [email protected].  The Intergalactic Business Report rarely does product reviews or endorsements, but a new consumer good that addresses and solves a common problem caught our attention. Primarily an issue for males, sudden erections that make loud noises can cause disturbances in public areas, business meetings, and grocery store checkout aisles.
Our own research indicates that almost 40% of American men experience frequent embarrassment from sudden, high-volume erections that occur when they are inadvertently stimulated either mentally or if something brushes near their penis region. Even more alarming is that close to 90% of men experience at least one such incident in their lifetimes. What is erection volume? While the science behind the phenomenon of loud erections is still being determined, the most common noises caused by erections are the following sounds: Boing. Schwing. Bwaah waah waah zing. Meat dropping on a table noise. Helloooo. Lesser heard, rarer outbursts include: Mee mee mee (ala the Roadrunner). I’m Rick, nice to meat you. Culturally insensitive Chinese music. How the boner silencer works. The application of the product is simple because it is basically a plastic bag that attaches over the genitals and is fastened with a rubber band. The good news is that unlike expensive things you can buy, this only costs the price of a baggie and a rubber band and can be applied easily unless you have a problem with your hands and need someone else to attach the bag to your dick. Can I buy one? As we said above, yes, if you consider buying a plastic bag and a rubber band “buying a boner silencer.” In that case, you may buy as many as you can afford. We recommend purchasing a Ziploc multipack, because you can get like a hundred at a time. As for rubber bands, no one knows where to buy those, but there are probably a zillion in some drawer in your home. If you don’t have a drawer like that, just go to the grocery store and pull them off asparagus bundles or cilantro bunches. If someone says anything then just respond with something like, “What the fuck? You gonna bust me for pulling rubber bands off fruit and shit?” Never EVER reveal the reason behind stealing the rubber bands is because you’re going to use them to hold a plastic bag over your dick and try your HARDEST (but not in a penis way) to not have a spontaneous high-decibel boner right at that moment because then the gig is up. Opinon: Let’s revive the conversation about Jake and Maggie as movie lovers. By Ed Mountaineer.5/16/2024  Opinion columnist Ed Mountaineer is known for his controversial views on the entertainment industry. Now he offers his most polarizing idea yet. Why can’t real life incest be erased with fake life acting?
Here I go again—taking on the entertainment industry by introducing concepts they are too afraid to broach, or brioche, I’m not sure which. I pose today the simplest of questions: if acting is just acting, why can’t a brother and sister be romantic movie partners? Picture Julia and Eric Roberts making out. Think of Charlie Sheen fake pounding Emilio Estevez. How about John and Joan Cusack suddenly realizing they’re meant to be together? Or, my favorite, the Hemsworths in an all-out, no rules, fake orgy with each other? Years ago, genius comedy writer Ken Levine pitched the concept of Jake and Maggie as movie lovers and he was met with the kind of criticism you might expect—people suggested he was some kind of perv. Just like they suggest about me. All the time. Despite the haters, there’s no question that audiences want this, and it may be time Hollywood finally gave it to them. As a non-actor, I’ve been told again and again that movie kissing and love scenes are just acting and that there are no actual romantic feelings involved. This is why actresses’ husbands supposedly show up on set and are like, no big deal, George Clooney just fake-fucked my wife. I’ve been called a lot of things, including a “danger to myself and others” but one thing I’ve never been called is wrong about my movie casting ideas, mostly because until now I’ve never suggested anything about movie casting. So, my longstanding record may get tested as soon as I hit “send” on this article. But if it’s fair to question my choice for a rom-com couple, isn’t it also fair to question your own revulsion to the idea of sibling actors copulating on screen? Open. Your. Minds. Let’s buttress my argument for a second. Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal are both pretty hot, and they don’t even look the same so there’s not a whole thing where they’d be together and you’d be like, “Hey, they’re clones or something.” If you didn’t know them and saw them together in a bar, you might even ask them how long they’ve been together and they would say something super hilarious like, “All our lives.” And you’d be like, “You’ve been dating since you were born?” Chemistry. It’s important. Recently, Anne Hathaway said that she had to make out with a bunch of dudes to see if she had it. Sounds horrible. Almost like kissing your sister. Get it? Anyway, Jake and Maggie have chemistry. Literal chemistry if you think about how DNA works, which I don’t. Next, let’s go on to the whole thing about nepo-babies. Even though Jake and Maggie’s parents are writers and directors, they would NOT be the reason for their children getting this part. Instead, it would be that Jake chooses Maggie and Maggie chooses Jake, making this a nepo-sibling event where they cast each other and thus cancel out the nepotism, because that sounds like what that would do. Lastly, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the people want this. They want it hard. Almost everyone I talk to says something about how this would be great, but they don’t think they’ll see it in their lifetimes because it’s like the Berlin wall coming down and wait a second, the Berlin wall DID come down. Oscars. Imagine when the academy awards came around and they were both nominated for making out with each other because you’d have to be the best actor ever to make out with your sibling and in your mind be a character who’s not doing that. Ratings. Final point. Viral campaign. Crowd source. Fan favorite. Movie tagline: “Sometimes, the girl of your dreams grew up with you. In your house.” Alternate movie tagline: “Dance like nobody’s watching and love like you don’t know you’re with your own brother.” #jakeandmaggiemovielovers. Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at [email protected]. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here.  "You're what?" Once considered courageous, coming out sexually has become ordinary and, dare we say, boring. “Coming out” used to be the culmination of years of agony, secrets, and misunderstanding, but today it is more like a gender reveal party in which participants guess what sex stuff you’re into and when you tell them, they’re like, “Oh, I was hoping for Orangutan molester.”
As a publication consistently ahead of trend, the Intergalactic Business Report introduces its readers to what we feel will be the most common lifestyle confessions friends and family will make to one another in coming years. Get ready to hear these, give a hug, and tell them you’d love them no matter what. “I’m an asshole.” Be prepared to console your little brother when he confirms what you suspected for years—that he’s a degenerate piece of shit but couldn’t help it because he was born that way. “I have a full loaf of bread in my butt.” So that’s what it was all this time. A loaf of fucking bread. In her butt. That explains everything. “I perform experimental surgery on dead hobos.” Imagine the shame and embarrassment that our culture puts on those who find the bodies of homeless people and try their hand at operating on them. Make sure you tell your wife that you understand why she was gone all those late nights and that it must have been dangerous for her to troll under bridges for dead bodies. Volunteer to do it with her so she can be whole again. Then when she finds her next subject, you can be like, “Wait a minute, those hobos are alive,” and she can be like, “Not for long.” “I have non-sexual, non-consensual penis sword fights with rodents in my back yard.” This is why your older brother never married. Because he lost so many fights and could never be with a woman. Time to hug it out. “I’m into dinosaurs. Like really into dinosaurs.” At some point, you stopped asking your youngest his favorite creature from the Mesozoic Era. Now he’s 35. You may question why he didn’t go into paleontology or something, but he just means he likes to fuck dinosaurs, not study them or whatever. And then you ask him, “When have you ever fucked a dinosaur?” And he’s like, “Never, that’s the problem.”* “I’m a sarcastic bitch.” All those times your little sister said she liked something, gave you a compliment, or told you she’d love to help you out, were lies. Deep down, you always felt like something was off when she talked to you like a condescending asshole, but you just went with it. Now she has the courage to admit that all along she was just a sarcastic bitch and could never tell you because you were such great, perfect person who didn’t have any fucked up problems of his own and just needed to be left alone so he could get back to his super important job that made him all that money and prestige. *We guess this belongs in the “coming out sexually” category, under dino-fucker. |
AboutLike yoghurt, we keep it cultured actively. Archives
November 2024
Categories |
RSS Feed