 Ever since looks maxxer Clavicular was “frame mogged” by a bigger, broader dude, Hortense Comuchio has been looking for a way to do something that doesn’t take a lot of effort but is kind of like that. This is what he’s found.
Let me jump right into it—I’m overweight and been told that I “look like shit” and “stop eating that” from people I hardly know. I guess there’s something that compels them to approach me and say things like, “You don’t look right” and “can I get you a doctor?” One time, someone even came up and said: “why are you in my house” and “are you eating my leftover pizza?” That one hurt. Let me put this in perspective. I’m not enormous. I’m morbidly obese, as the kids today say, but I’m not relegated to a hoveround or a wheelchair. In fact, I walk pretty fast—especially if it’s time for dinner. Hahahaha. You get it. Anyway, I’d been looking for a really good way to use who I am to do something that didn’t take a lot of effort but had a big effect. That’s when I heard about something called “frame mogging” where you just walk up next to someone and make him look like trash because you’re so much better looking or stronger than him. That seemed so cool to me because it expended practically zero energy to just stand next to someone. I also liked the idea of totally shaming someone for what his body looked like. Maybe that was because I’d been shamed so many times before. I wanted revenge, I guess. Of course, my first problem with frame mogging is that I’m totally fat and out of shape so I’m the guy who gets frame mogged just by standing at a bus stop. Old women frame mog me. Middle school students frame mog me. Animals frame mog me. What they couldn’t do, however, was match my fatness. In that area, I ruled. In that area, I was their fucking king. And I became a brutal one—a royal fat ass who mercilessly used the weight of his stature to dominate them till they moved out of frame and sometimes even ran. My first “fat mog” was at that bus stop I mentioned. I was unsure at first if my idea would even work, mostly because I didn’t know if people would even get what I was doing. Turned out they didn’t. And that turned out not even to matter because what I discovered was that fat mogging is all about the mogger and not about the mogged. In my heart, I felt it. I had the sublime experience of overwhelming lesser, thinner humans with my massive body and all its features—rolls of fat, quadruple chins, swelling apendages, and man boobs. This was the thing I’d been searching for all my life—or at least after I became fat. The Intergalactic Business Report asked me to tell its readers about fat mogging and how they can do it too. They paid me in Taco Bell coupons, which they assured me were valid despite their faded appearance and references to food no longer on the menu, like the Meximelt and Taco Salad. But for me, it wasn’t about the money, or the coupons. It was about being a man who could make someone else beneath me based solely on my appearance compared to his. In other words, it was about what all humans have aspired to since the days when they fought with rocks and only fucked doggy-style and could see their own penises because they were in really good shape and didn’t look like me. Anyway, here’s how it’s done: How to “Fat Mog" in eight steps. 1. Be overweight to the point at which when you enter a room you are the fattest one there. (Note: avoid Mexican weddings). 2. Find a “flock” of thin to moderately overweight people. I mentioned that bus stops are good, but you can also do it anywhere people are just standing around—funerals, youth soccer games, Mafia headquarters. 3. Burst into a space next to your victim and just stand there, making him feel less fat and in better shape than you. Really rub it in. 4. Get someone to take a picture for proof. 5. If there’s any confusion, say something like, “You just got mogged, bro!” 6. Ask for contact information so you can exchange photos of yourselves. 7. If they’re in the middle of eating something, maybe ask if they’re going to finish it. 8. Walk away and move on to your next fat mog. Hortense Comuchio is a fat mogger. That’s what he’s doing now. If you’d like to contact him or comment on his article, please reach out to him at [email protected].  As the second Super Mario Brothers movie (Super Mario Galaxy Movie) airs, intellectuals and independent thinkers are once again questioning the logic behind paying Chris Pratt zillions of dollars to fake an Italian accent when they could have hired virtually anyone to do that.
At the Intergalactic Business Report, we have a different take. We believe Pratt was the best and only choice for the role and that it was money well spent. To prove our contention, we reveal 19 other things we feel only Pratt is qualified to do: 19 other jobs Chris Pratt should be paid a zillion dollars to do:
 If you enjoy Netflix’s Bridgerton, the makers of “Haaverstaad” hope you will come along for their similar if slightly darker ride about a fictional colonial plantation where gowns, balls, and social climbing are prevalent, but so is slavery.
Haaverstaad opens with a panoramic view of a colorful Caribbean town set somewhere in the 18th century, although dates and time periods are never discussed by the characters. The town, we soon learn, is a wealthy imperial outpost called Lindenloek. The series’ namesake is the plantation that lies a few miles from the town center, and it is owned by the Haaverstaad family, who are clearly the most favored and prosperous of all the landowners in the community. Like Bridgerton, Haaverstaad presents a kind of alternative history within the context of actual history. It also boasts a rich mix of races and sexes playing counter to their historical roles. One striking feature of the cast is that almost all “slaves” (though they are never referred to as such) are portrayed by white actors, while the upper class of the Haaverstaad world is a mix. What is perhaps most consistent about Haaverstaad is that the subject of slavery becomes a debate between the brutality of human bondage and the simplicity of social order and courtly graces. For example, Jeff, a slave who has served the plantation most of his life, is elevated to “Head of service,” a title that gives him honor and pride among his fellow underlings. For his promotion, dashing widower Lord Haaverstaad (played by African-Australian actor Russell Blingaard) holds a humble servants’ party for Jeff and then bestows upon him a small sack of gold. “But those of my station cannot have money,” Jeff replies. To which Haaverstaad tells him, “Keep it for another day, when perhaps you can.” When Jeff asks if this means he will someday gain his freedom, Haaverstaad tells him, “Perhaps. Who knows? Anything may happen in this mad mad world in which we live.” Jeff presses and asks for some clarity. What, exactly, does he mean? Haaverstaad, standing on the precipice between the stark societal rules of the day and what he wishes they were instead, can only say: “Do you desire the money or not?” To which Jeff, puzzled, says, “I suppose. But I cannot spend it.” Haaverstaad smiles glumly and pats him on the shoulder, knocking the bag and spilling out its contents. As we watch the pieces settle on the ground, we realize the gold is in fact not real at all, but merely painted rocks Haaverstaad has placed in a burlap sack. Jeff thanks him for the “gift” and moves on to celebrate with his peers. Haaverstaad continues his glumness and watches the event from his gilded, distant vantage. He’s a man torn between supporting the status quo and dreaming of a better world with less slavery. Maybe even no slavery. Meanwhile, Haaverstaad’s daughter Mildred (Ching Ping Lee) wishes to be a slave. She attends slave events, including Jeff’s “ball” and she is in love with Phil, a brooding field worker who picks up more girls than he does sugar cane. Mildred’s sisters (Justin Fleete and Sarah Tingesworth) try endlessly to persuade her to drop Phil and find an eligible suitor like wealthy merchant Miles Linderhoefer (Ashante Briggs), but she is as obdurate as she is in love. For Bridgerton fans, Haaverstaad has many of the creature comforts they may seek, including complicated balls and “coming out” parties, matchmaking intrigue, and people who lament that society makes them “better” than other people, but they can’t do anything about it, despite being the only ones in a position to do so. In season two, Phil and his friends decide to burn down an adjacent plantation and Jeff must decide whether he will inform on him to receive another promotion, this time to “Master Head Servant,” which comes with an actual bag of gold he cannot spend. This storyline is perhaps the most dramatic and intriguing, as Lord Haaverstaad must consider publicly executing a group of his slaves for sabotage and disobedience. Unfortunately, Mildred’s boyfriend is not only among them, but also their ringleader. We won’t spoil anything here, but let’s just say Lord Haaverstaad must ultimately do what society expects (despite his moral compunctions) and mete out slave plantation justice. On the other hand, there are many balls. And they each have their own “colonial plantation” flair, which differs from Bridgerton in that they feature a lot of rum drinks and plantains are often served. Also, the gowns are decidedly tropical. There are also a number of humorous incidents and misunderstandings that offer comic relief. For instance, High Lord Magistrate Fiinton, who controls the port and is the emissary to the Queen, forgets his pantaloons after having closet sex with the “Buggerer of Barbados” a recurring character who is part pirate, part nobleman, and is sometimes in the crown’s favor and at other times must hide in closets. While Haaverstaad often dances around the issue of human oppression, it also confronts it head on. After Jeff turns in his friends, Lord Haaverstaad puts the group of rebellious slaves to death in a manner that disgusts him, but which is also what society expects. Missing from the executions is Phil, whom the lord allowed to escape. But when Phil rallies slaves from other plantations to revolt, Haaverstaad reconsiders his kindness and leads a posse of non-slave farmhands and noblemen to hunt him down. When his daughter joins the rebel group, Lord Haaverstaad must choose between Mildred and what society expects of him—which is the brutal murder of those beneath him who don’t do what he wants—even though if he were, as he says, “in another world it would not be so.” Also, when High Lord Magistrate Fiinton forgets his pantaloons, he’s walking around the great hall with no pants on and everyone is looking at him as if to say, “Hey, what happened to your pants?” Spoiler alert: It’s hilarious. Then it’s back to dealing with the slaves, who are now gaining ground in the revolt. Lord Haaverstaad meets with the other plantation owners and one of them, Lord Bungsten (played by the wonderful Calvari Capreece), reveals he’s done the math, and the slaves outnumber them ten to one. When another landowner, Baron Muunster (Rohit Sandramuthra) asks why the slaves haven’t done this before and just wiped them all out, Lord Haaverstaad gives an impassioned speech about how he wishes society weren’t the way it was and that if only they had the power to change the order of things, it would be different. Season two ends with the slaves closing in on the plantations while a boat full of reinforcements is attempting to reach the harbor in time to restore the order of things. Season three is coming in December of 2026, but in the meanwhile, viewers can enjoy seasons one and two on major* streaming services. *Major is a term used to express not only an amount but also a magnitude. Subjectively, this can mean anywhere between zero and countless.  The flooding stopped that day. The reboot of Bravo’s Vanderpump Rules has left fans struggling to adapt to new characters who are competing to have the most fucked-up backstory. So far, OnlyFans creator Chris seems to be in the lead ahead of his semi-girlfriend Audrey, whose longtime girlfriend turned into a man.
If you saw the movie Summer School in the 80’s, you’ll remember the puckish “Chainsaw,” who has been rebirthed on Vanderpump as “Jason,” Chris’s cousin, roommate, and partner in teasing gay men on the internet with shower antics and penis pumps. They also work at Lisa Vanderpump’s Sur as a bartender and a host. One thing’s for sure, Jason and Chris always have each other’s backs and will even rub them in intimate massage videos. As Chris’s relationship with Audrey blossoms and then wilts and then blossoms again before wilting, they struggle with what they are to each other and whether they should take the “next step” to become boyfriend-girlfriend. Since Chris is planning to travel to Europe and Bali (where he is not going to have sex with ALL the women he meets) over the summer, he is conflicted about whether to take that step now or wait till he’s returned and THEN disappoint Audrey by becoming her boyfriend. The drama rises as Jason inadvertently mentions that Chris “did a porn one time” and dated his co-star afterwards. Somehow this relates to his situation with Audrey, and the two cousin-bros sit in a car and ponder what commitment and love really mean. They decide it’s best for Chris to really consider that for Audrey, romance means a relationship where Chris doesn’t fuck other people. Chris looks puzzled and agrees to think it over. With each episode, viewers see the slow burn buildup of shit Chris is into and what he’s done in the past. First, we learn he’s been on reality dating shows. Then we see he does OnlyFans content. Then it’s revealed that content is super gay and with his own cousin. Now we know he’s done porn. In an effort to get ahead of what comes next, the Intergalactic Business Report tells our readers what else Chris “did one time” so that all his peccadilloes are officially registered. We identify 11 new secrets we assume will be learned in coming episodes. Audrey, are you seeing this? 11 other things Vanderpump’s Chris “did one time.”
 How to raise funds, in the hardest of circumstances. Business icon Hody Granger’s new book, Hard Money: How to raise funds in the hardest times, reads more like a diary of some of his most intimate moments with investors, employees, and semi-famous acquaintances than it does a book about financial freedom and strategy. Nevertheless, it makes for an energetic treatise on what one might call “life with business,” or what happens personally when deals and billion-dollar meetings are either in the background or not there at all.
Granger opens his book with a standard explanation of why and how he got into the business world—a mother who demanded he be the “best” and an opportunity at one of the country’s biggest investment firms that led him to go out on his own and create wealth for himself. The only thing missing from this opening story are the details surrounding his mysterious ascent to prominence and power. Nowhere does Granger name the investment firm that gave him his start, and nowhere does he explain how long he worked there or how it directed him towards making his fortune. One would expect that all this would come to light as the book progresses, but it does not. In fact, Granger speaks in vague terms when it comes to money matters and leaves his specificity for his stories about personal interactions (many of them sexual) and relationships (also mostly sexual). At times, readers may think that Granger’s life is nothing more than one awkward, priapic encounter after another, each one more degrading (for Granger) than the last. In Chapter Three, “I grow my hard-on for money,” for example, the only mention of money is that Granger has oral sex with a stranger and is paid $17. To this, Granger celebrates: “Not bad for thirty-eight minutes work!” Granger seems to take great pride in his sex-in-exchange-for-money arrangements, and this is perhaps the crux of his pecuniary advice—that a simple blowjob for cash is a pretty good deal for the blower. By the time one gets to chapter seven, “My advice on how to build wealth,” one believes that Granger will finally reveal his money-making strategy, but a few paragraphs in, we are treated to yet another oral sex for money story—this time involving an organ grinder, but not, thank goodness, his monkey, who merely watches the act play out while he dances. Questions have been raised about Granger’s actual wealth, and whether there is any real proof of his success in business. He has boasted that he is “off the books” when it comes to wealth rankings in publications such as Forbes. Granger has suggested his “system” is “non-taxable” and that he has “immunity,” whatever this means. One thing for certain is that he never discusses this in his book. Instead, it is blowjob story after blowjob story. The title Hard Money could have easily been, simply, Hody Granger Blow Job Stories, but that was probably rejected by editors. Instead, readers are brought on a wild goose chase of following Granger and hoping he will impart actual wisdom about how to make and manage money. Even the final chapter, “Now I’m really going to tell you how to make and manage wealth” falls short of doing any of that and instead, as you may have guessed, goes right into a story of how Granger ran out of fuel and sucked off a gas station attendant so that he could continue his road trip, the destination of which is never explained, probably because it’s irrelevant. Following this tale, Granger gloats that, “With gas at almost five dollars a gallon, a twenty-three-and-a-half-minute blowjob comes out to close to seventy-five bucks. Not bad for a fifty-eight-year-old man!” If you’re looking for business advice, this is probably not your book. But if you want to hear an eternity of graphic descriptions of a middle-aged man performing oral sex on random people, then this is what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. Despite the criticism Granger will undoubtedly receive for his book, there are moments when you will find yourself rooting for him. As the stakes rise, and Granger is forced into darker and more dangerous situations, it becomes apparent that he has only one trick to get out of it all—blowing people for money. In an excerpt from page 425, Granger ponders: “Is that the wind I feel as I drive down highway 35 at sunset? Nope, it’s somebody’s dick rubbing against my face.” In an abstract sense, Granger’s story is about America, capitalism, and what happens when almost every interaction with another human being is a negotiation about how much someone will pay to get sucked off. In this sense, Granger is perceptive, if not precise. Near the middle of Hard Money Granger questions his own abilities and whether his mouth is so overused he may be unable to hold it open for more than a few seconds in a future encounter. He lets us in on a secret in which he dislocates his jaw and is able to proceed. It’s not pretty, but this is as raw and unfiltered as it gets. This is a story of a man, his mouth, and a mission to do something, whatever that may be. Perhaps the road to success in lined with a million blow jobs. If so, Granger must be imminently close.  Hollywood writers have reached a point at which the only way they can formulate a plot is to include the death or kidnapping of children. Gone are the days when adult characters simply got cancer or died in a war. Now, for anyone to have an emotional pulse, he must have suffered the loss of his progeny or at least their kidnapping.
Series like All Her Fault, His and Hers, and The Beast in Me, all rely heavily on child abductions and death to maintain any semblance of a plot. See below: All Her Fault: Son is kidnapped and possibly dead. Things will never be the same. His and Hers: Jon Bernthal’s daughter died of SIDS. He and his wife have never been the same. The Beast in Me: Claire Dane’s child is killed in a car crash. She’s never been the same. Untamed: Eric Bana’s son is dead. He’s never been the same. Task: Mark Rufallo’s child died. He’s never been the same. Severance: Adam Scott’s child died in a miscarriage. That made him do the whole “severance” thing. Fictional or not, the slaughter needs to end. And these are just a few examples of the mayhem wrought by writers who sacrifice kids so they can infuse their protagonists with dark energy and an edge. Today we make a plea to anyone involved with writing, greenlighting, or producing new streaming series: Stop the killing. Use your imaginations to come up with something more original than a dead child. This doesn’t mean we’re advocating for the killing of someone or something else—dogs or other cute animals for instance. Please don’t. We’ll even look the other way when you do the “one month earlier” thing. That sucks, but we’ll allow it if it means saving one kid from death or abduction. In a futile attempt to save future fictional children, we do your jobs for you and redo your plots so no kids are involved. Plots of streaming shows if they didn’t rely on child deaths to motivate their characters. The Beast in Me. Writer Aggie Wiggs and her wife Shelley move in near psychopath billionaire Nile Jarvis. Same basic plot only the marriage isn’t over and they are childless. But not because one died. They just don’t have any kids. Niles still kills people, but just not the guy Aggie blames for her kid’s death, because she doesn’t have kids, so Niles has to find another reason to kill people. And he does, because he’s a serial killer and they don’t need a lot of reasons. Task. Tortured FBI agent Tom Brandis investigates a series of robberies. He has two kids. Both of them are alive. Severance. Mark Scout entered the severance program and now has two completely different lives—one where he’s at work and one where he’s not. He thinks his wife died in a car crash but maybe she didn’t. Something for sure that didn’t happen: a miscarriage. Untamed. Eric Bana keeps having conversations with a skanky woman who gave him syphilis. It’s like she’s there and we can’t tell if he’s actually interacting with her or if it’s all just a hallucination. Later it’s revealed that the woman died (of syphilis) and it’s all just in his head. One thing that’s not a figment of his imagination is that the syphilis made it impossible for him to have children. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, he can go on to solve murders in the forest or whatever. His and Hers: Jon Bernthal and his estranged wife, Tessa Thompson, both try to solve a murder and suspect each other of the crime. He’s a small-town detective. She’s a reporter. They’re both from the same small town but nobody seems to know that? And the people who keep getting killed were Tessa’s best friends in high school. But nobody seems to know that? It’s like nobody in the small town where she grew up even know she’s from there? She holds a fucking press conference and talks about all the murders and nobody in the whole fucking auditorium even says to her, “Weren’t those people your best friends, from the school you went to, and didn’t you grow up here?” Also, she and Jon Bernthal’s character never had kids. All Her Fault: Wealth manager Marissa Irvine and her fucked up husband Peter live in a mansion in Chicago’s North Shore suburbs. Michael Peña is a Chicago cop and they’re totally out of his jurisdiction because they don’t live in Chicago. Marissa and her husband also have a son named Milo. And Marissa’s disabled brother-in-law Brian lives in a guest house on their property. Brian goes missing after he boards a mysterious party bus that picked him up one afternoon. They report him missing and some police show up, but not Michael Peña because he’s busy doing shit in Chicago and would never show up to the suburbs because why would he? Marissa must figure out what the fuck happened to Brian, who, it turns out, might actually not be brothers with Peter and was kidnapped by his REAL brother, Michael Peña, who’s a cop in Chicago. So much better, right?  Dick Rambo and Cornelius Whacker. Every so often, a movie comes out that pushes the boundaries of public decency and sets off a debate on the difference between erotica and pornography. This year, that movie is likely to be Big Butts and Huge Nuts, a raunchy entry that carries a punitive triple X rating.
For now, most mainstream streaming services are passing on the film, which recently changed its title from Massive Dicks and Nasty Chicks, in a bid to curry favor with more conservative entertainment outlets. Even with this update, the producers were left with a harsh, cold NO. If you’re wondering what the movie is about, we can tell you this—it does not have a traditional plot. Instead, the filmmakers rely on a semi-realistic portrayal of people having sex with each other. Critics who have seen Big Butts and Huge Nuts claim the actors, although actually engaging in intercourse and other sex acts, are not a good depiction of what average people look like as they copulate. For example, they point out that the male penises are almost comically large and that the action is “closer to acrobatic” than what you might see if you were, for instance, a fly on the wall at an orgy. To this point, actors Dick Rambo and Cornelius Whacker have very few lines, and the ones they have seem improvised, such as: “Unnngh!” and “Yeah! That’s right! Oh yeah!” But according to Whacker, dialogue is not the point. “The director didn’t really give us any lines,” he tells us. Rambo adds, “It’s more like they tell us what to do sexually—which positions and stuff like that. The lines we have are just kind of made up in the moment.” If one had to describe the plot of Big Butts and Huge Nuts, it would be that several men enter a warehouse and start fucking women who are conveniently there. They use couches and a random bed that’s just sitting around, for apparently no reason, until you figure out the reason is to have sex on it. The nudity, full penetration shots, and visible boom microphones are considered by many to be disqualifying features for high-end services like Amazon Prime, Netflix, and others. But is this fair, or just a matter of taste in art? Says Naomi Cumbell, who appears in most of the movie, “Who let you in here?” One of her co-stars, Sheila von Tittenstorm agrees, “Yeah, who let you in here?” We may never know the answer to that question, but one theory is that we just walked into the warehouse and started talking to people in between the times when they were fucking each other. Even more likely, though, is the theory we just mentioned, where we walked in, etc. Will Big Butts and Huge Nuts ever make it to a streaming service that shows movies that aren’t just people fucking? And, more important, does it count if we cast it onto our 85-inch t.v. and pretend we just clicked on Netflix and there it is? Once again, we may never know. But one thing’s for sure—believing in yourself is everything and family comes first.  Not even close to a real depiction of Ed Mountaineer. Ed misunderstood how Monique Samuel’s “love letter” therapy works and he’s redone his work for a better grade. Read his statement below:
NOTE: I guess I fucked up the whole “love letters” thing because I’m being told I wasn’t supposed to be writing love letters TO other versions of myself, but love letters FROM other versions of myself. Guess I should have actually read the book? Anyway… Let’s try this again. Love letter one (from my teenage self) Dear nowadays Ed, Hope you’re doing well. Right now, I’m whacking off. Hard. And that makes it difficult to write you a letter. I will try again when I’m not pounding my meat, but that will be a very narrow window, because I’m doing that constantly. Ed. Love letter two (from my college self) ‘Sup Ed? College is awesome and I’m getting paid and laid! Not! I am getting drunk though. And I’m making decisions that will absolutely fuck our life in the future. You know what they are so I won’t include them in this letter. Back to doing cocaine with turtles I found in the woods, Ed. Love letter three (from me ten years ago) Dearest Ed, I write to you during a time of great change in myself. I received your letter about Nvidia and I have invested everything I have in her. She is not only an excellent dancer, but I think I’m really starting to get along with her kids. The other day, one of them accidentally called me “dad” but then took it back and reminded me that I will never be his dad. I think that’s progress. Also, Nvidia’s ex has stopped trying to murder me, for now. I think it’s because he moved to Alaska to work on a fishing boat where he says he’ll make enough money to win her and his children back. Nvidia tells me it’s highly unlikely he’ll be able to do it, and I’m waiting to hear because he just called and she’s talking to him and she looks super excited and happy and yup, she’s moving back in with him. Why the fuck did you tell me to do this again? Up your butt, Ed.  Taking inspiration from Real Housewife Monique Samuels, Ed Mountaineer goes on a journey of self-reflection and growth by writing love letters to himself.
I’m not usually the guy who’s into self-help, self-care, and self-reflection, but there was something about Real Housewives of Potomac’s Monique Samuels that made me pay attention when she came out with a book about how to find personal growth through writing love letters to yourself. The book, available at Barnes and Nobles and on Monique’s website, advertises itself as “A memoir of self-discovery, transformation and healing,” and explains that “Through shadow work and truths revealed through experience, Monique helps readers confront the patterns keeping them stuck in toxic cycles and gently guides them toward deep self-compassion and soul level forgiveness.” Apparently, if you write yourself love letters, you can grow as a person as you affirm yourself, make peace with your past, accept who you are, and celebrate all that. Also, you’re supposed to write the letters from the perspective of different “versions” of yourself, from different times in your life. I tried it and the results are amazing. Below, I have included three of the letters I wrote. I hope you enjoy them but if you don’t, it doesn’t matter because this is my journey. Three love letters to myself (from different versions of me). By Ed Mountaineer. Love letter one (to my teenage self): Dear Teenage Ed: Why are you whacking off so much? It’s super weird to do it that often, don’t you think? Anyway, I just thought I’d check in and say hi because I LOVE you and I want to be there for you as you get through these really difficult years where all you do is beat your meat and do super embarrassing stuff that will make you wake up in the middle of the night when you’re older and wonder why you did it. I guess I’m here to tell you there’s absolutely nothing you can do to take any of it back, unless you get this before you decide to do that breakdancing thing at the talent show. If you haven’t done that yet, DON’T. Also, you call your teacher “mom” and you’re sixteen so it’s extra weird. Have you done THAT yet? Anyhoo… Keep your dick in your pants, Ed. Love letter two (to my college self): Hey Ed. What up brah! You getting’ paid and laid? No? Maybe that’s because girls don’t like you and you don’t have a job. I’ll write again when you get your shit together. Take it sleazy, Ed. Love letter three (to me ten years ago): Dear Ed, Seriously, what the fuck are you doing? It’s me from ten years in the future and all I can say is that you’re totally fucking up my life with all the dumbass decisions you’re making. If you can invest a shitload of money in this company called Nvidia that would be COOL. Do it. Now. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have any money. Jesus. What the fuck are you even doing right now? Hold up. I just wanna say I LOVE YOU. Do you feel that? If you do, then make some decisions that aren’t dumb as shit and make some fucking money, so I’m not broke right now. I’m sitting here waiting and nothing’s changing so obviously you aren’t doing shit. I’m still waiting. How the fuck does this work, anyway, Monique? Can you get me some tech support on this or something? True love always, Ed. 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.  The series finale of Netflix’s Stranger Things has been a little action and a lot of Emmy money shots in which characters resolve issues we didn’t even remember they had and use super original metaphors like, “you don’t get to write the ending…not this time.” As usual, we bring you deep analysis and insights you won’t find anywhere else.
On Season Five, episode seven, demon stick person Vecna captures Will while he’s sleeping (?) and uses him to locate his friend Max who is in a coma, so he can kill her. In addition to using him as a tracking device, Will reveals to his mother, friends, and brother that Vecna also showed him other “horrible things” including that his loved ones would not be cool with his coming out as gay. After what seems like an hour, Will finally spits it out and says he’s homosexual, and we are forced to remember a time when this was actually a big deal and people spent an inordinate amount of time prepping everyone for the news. In case you don’t follow the series, Vecna was once Henry Creel, a test subject for evil government experiments who somehow turned into an all-powerful creature made of vines and squirmy tentacles and changed his name to Vecna because that was way cooler than Henry Creel. His powers allow him to command demon servants who capture townspeople, put them in trances, and place them in a netherworld in which they all live in Henry’s childhood home with him. Instead of capturing all the hot chicks from Hawkins and having them live in a mansion with him as the only man in their universe who provides for their needs and desires, Henry chooses to snatch children who he must entertain, feed, and constantly assuage. Interesting choice considering he could have had a bunch of strippers and cheerleaders competing for his affections, but he thought it was better to be a babysitter. But before you start thinking he’s an obvious child molester, remember that the reason he chooses children is because, unlike strippers, their minds are more malleable, and they are easy to manipulate. O.K. He does sound like a child molester. Anyway, Vecna threatens Will with the possibility that his gayness will repel everyone, but instead of hiding in the closet, he bravely tells everyone and it takes like an hour (see above). We assumed the “horrible” things Vecna showed him were mutant spider kittens and the world ending. But it was more about perceived social embarrassment and humiliation. Brilliant. Because those are the really scary things, right? In a profound discovery that will change the trajectory of the Stranger Things world, we tell you the other horrible things Vecna showed Will that weren’t revealed on the show. Six other “horrible” things Vecna showed Will. 1. Will calls Hopper “dad” by accident and it’s super embarrassing for him. Hopper acts like it’s no big deal, but he’s not a great actor so they both just kind of stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds, hoping Will’s mom will come in and break up the mortifying silence. But she’s out shopping or something. So it just continues. 2. Will is hanging out with Mike, Lucas, and Dustin and Mike leaves to get snacks at the grocery store. Will suddenly has a craving for Cool Ranch Doritos but since there are no cell phones unless you’re super rich, he can’t just call him and say, “Hey Mike. Make sure you pick up some Cool Ranch Doritos!” Instead, Will has to just hope Mike gets some, but he doesn’t, so Will is stuck eating a bunch of crap he doesn’t even want, like fucking regular Ruffles and something called Chicken in a Biscuit. 3. Will calls Joe but can’t remember why. Joe isn’t there, so it goes to his answering machine, but since Will can’t remember why he called, he has nothing to say and just breathes and then it becomes a thing where if he does say anything it’ll be weird and if he doesn't it's weirder. 4. Vecna’s on Spring Break with Will and since this is a vision of something that could happen Will freaks out because he would NEVER choose to go on Spring Break with him. So it sucks. But Vecna pays for everything and the place they stay is super cool and there are a lot of chicks, but that also sucks because they’re not into that (see above). 5. Will flat out pees his pants. At work. At a job he doesn’t have yet, but it’s a vision of that. And everyone’s staring at him and he tries to explain that he hasn’t peed his pants since he was a kid, but nobody believes him because there he is, pissing his pants, right in front of them. 6. Will shows up to a Christmas party with what he thinks is an awesome outfit. Turns out, Dustin is wearing the same one, and while they try not to be “girls” about it, one of them has to change, because they are kind of girls about it. Dustin refuses to be the one to go home and pick a new outfit. So Will just decides to ride it out, but it’s unbearable because every time he starts relaxing and feeling a buzz, he looks across the room and there’s fucking Dustin, wearing the same fucking sweater, pants, and socks. |
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