 The feet of a champion. Super baby soccer player Travis McHunter is the first “Under One” player to be accepted by the U.S. Soccer Development Academy. Travis’s road to the top began when a viral video posted by his father blew up the internet with almost 14 views and multiple comments from his dad about Travis’s gifts as a player. In the video, Travis, in his crib, skillfully kicks a cushiony soccer ball fourteen inches. To prove it, his father is shown with a measuring tape, tracking the distance. Travis’s father, Michael McHunter, knows talent when he sees it. As a youth soccer coach and former player, he has the ability to recognize greatness almost instantly. “I see a lot of babies play soccer,” Michael says, “And I was astounded to see that my own son had an ability that went way beyond his peers.” Despite his enormous potential, Michael is leery of bringing Travis into the competitive world of soccer too fast. “I’m not going to push him,” he says. “I think that’s the key. To just let all this happen naturally. Right now, all Travis wants is to be a pro soccer player, but I keep telling him to just slow down a little and enjoy being a baby.” Through his coaching contacts, Michael was able to get Travis a tryout for a nearby USSDA club, which told him there was no such thing as a U1 level team. Michael then asked if Travis could “play up” several years, maybe for the U14 team. The academy coach agreed to the idea, saying, “Michael made me a fifty-thousand dollar no interest, pay-it-back-or-don’t-pay-it-back loan to help me with some personal issues I’m having. Not a lot of guys would do that. So, I trust him. And when he tells me he’s never seen a baby with as much untapped potential as Travis, I believe him.” An early collegiate, full-ride offer from UCLA came next, but Travis is still considering his options. “Gahhh!” he seemed to say. “It’s too early to make a decision like that,” his father adds. “Maybe he’ll go pro instead. Who knows? I think this needs to be organic.” Even with Travis’s obvious gifts, there are many obstacles ahead on his quest to be the “American Messi.” Not being able to walk is a huge setback, for instance. “He can do it all,” Michael tells us. “Except for walking. That’s part of his game he knows he needs to work on and develop.” U.S. soccer scouts aren’t worried though. Under condition of anonymity, one told us, “Listen. Travis checks all the boxes to make it in the USSDA. His dad is a coach. His dad is rich. And I’m pretty sure his dad is calling me right now. I need to take this.” What does the future hold for Travis? Another insider at U.S. Soccer explains: “The whole concept of not knowing what’s going to happen in the future is something we’re really getting rid of. It’s just too much pressure. We’re shifting to a new model where we’ll know exactly what’s going to happen to players from an early age. We want to start an under five-year-old national team eventually, so that we can identify the best talent in the country as early as possible. In Travis’s case, he’s set for life. It’s kind of predetermined. I’m sorry. Not kind of. It’s totally predetermined.” Travis will make his national team debut in 2032, making him the youngest player to ever start for the U.S. soccer national team.  We talked to one of America’s leading ass-wiping experts* and asked him what the most common ass-wiping errors are. Next time you’re done with your dump, be sure not you’re not doing any of these:
1. You use invisible toilet paper that only exists in your mind. 2. You wipe just your butt cheeks and not your butthole. 3. You scoot across your floor, hoping to clean yourself. 4. You lie face down in your front yard with your pants off, waiting for a rainstorm to give you a natural bidet. 5. You just stand there and scream for your butler to come wipe your ass, but he never comes, because you don’t have a butler. 6. You think your ass is self-cleaning and you just say, “Clean ass… Sanitary mode.” 7. You confuse your ass with your face and blow your nose. *Some guy at a bar.  A recent article, “The Case For The Just Us Holiday,” by someone on the child horror website, “Scary Mommy,” recently suggested it may be less stressful to stop seeing your extended family this holiday and instead, just skip those gatherings. The Intergalactic Business Report takes that line of thinking a step further and gives you the ultimate guide to how you should spend your Christmas (and every other holiday for that matter). The secret? Just say fuck you to everyone in your family and walk alone through life, leaving all that stress behind. Below we outline a seven-step plan for total happiness. Follow, and don’t spit—swallow. STEP ONE: Identify your extended family so that you can shun them all. Write down a list of everyone you’re related to outside your immediate family. This includes aunts, uncles, cousins, and even friends you say are “like family” or your “brother” or “sister” when you’re drunk. If you have a family tree or genealogical charts of any kind, just whip those out too. Add in postcards, Christmas cards, and wedding invitations you’ve received throughout the years. STEP TWO: Stare with dead eyes at the list and charts in front of you. We suggest you put all the information about your extended family on a table in front of you. Gaze at it. Then silently mouth the words, “Fuck you all.” Say it again and again, till you are screaming it. Take all the paper, put it in a bathtub and burn it with a cool lighter, if available. STEP THREE: Practice pretending you don’t know people you’ve known all your life. This is one of the harder feats because you may run into your extended family, receive texts or phone calls, or even have them stop by your home. Our advice here is to pretend they are all college magazine salespeople bothering you during dinner or a massively satisfying masturbation session you’re having while listening to the Scorpions. STEP FOUR: Create a new backstory for yourself in which you had the power to give birth to yourself, suckled on your own teat, and learned to read, write, and do math by just thinking a lot. STEP FIVE: Now that you’ve excommunicated your extended family, start on your immediate one. Let’s face it, most of the stress you have in your life doesn’t come from spending Thanksgiving with your drunk uncle and worthless cousins. Your children and spouse are the ones who really grind you down. Babies crying, your wife asking for shit all the time… And the fucking dog? Do you really need any of this? STEP SIX: Prepare yourself for a totally stress-free holiday. Just leave your home, and find a hotel room or a lonely apartment, preferably in another state. Now you can do what you’re supposed to do on Christmas—just sit there and consider how nobody on the planet means anything except for you. STEP SEVEN: Die without all the encumbrances of human relationships. When you reach the time where you are so old that you have maybe a minute left on Earth before you pass away into death’s eternal grip, you can smile and think back to all the times you spent stress-free, without having stressful human connections with other human beings. You can think for a moment about the afterlife and who you may see there, and then just laugh when you realize you won’t see anyone, not even your stupid dog! Now you can get ready for a stress-free, with a capital S, eternity!  “The first step that leads to our identity in life is usually not ‘I know who I am,’ but rather “I know who I am not’ process of elimination. Defining ourselves by what we are NOT is the first step that leads us to really KNOWING WHO WE ARE.” – Matthew McConaughey. As someone who’s always trying to improve himself, I turned to Matthew McConaughey for advice. Although he didn’t personally talk to me, I feel like he would totally be my friend if I could find his house and wait for him in the driveway to say hello. Anyway… I started out by taking Mac’s coolest piece of advice—that in order to find my true identity I need to first define who I’m not. I found out that there are a lot of things I’m not. I’m still writing, but I thought I’d share 1-36. Who I’m not:
 Do you wish you had a closer relationship with your mother? Maybe I can help. My name is Flexrico Talon. The following are things you may not know about her that might help strengthen your bond. Read on. 1. She told me that she’s super disappointed in you and that she sees me as her “real son.” Then she caught herself and said, “I mean, you’re like my real son if I had sex with my son all the time.” 2. She can fit four Taco Bell hard shell tacos in her mouth and one of my penis all at the same time. 3. When I stop by for a secret rendezvous at her house in the middle of the night, I park my car in her vagina, so that no one sees it on the street. 4. Your mom’s favorite color is “Just do me in the ass and stop asking dumb questions.” At least that’s what she told me when I asked her what her favorite color is.  It’s Thanksgiving. You’ve been drinking all day because it’s the only way to numb your soul as your relatives blather on about politics, sports, and their useless, boring jobs. Once in a while, they look over at you for approval or to just check if you’re still awake. And then one of them asks you a question… Something stupid like, “What do you think about that, Steve?” And now you’re in that fatal position where you either must answer with a generic, non-confrontational response like, “Oh, I don’t know. I can see where both of you are coming from.” Or you can start screaming, because that’s what you really want to do. Lucky for you, the Intergalactic Business Report gives you nine responses that will shut down any conversation immediately. When you hear the question, simply say one of these (preferably in a super super loud voice): THEIR DUMB QUESTION: Think the Lions are gonna win today? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: I don’t know… I guess we’ll see… WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: You fucked the turkey? Why would you do that? Did you pull out? Tell me you didn’t do it inside the turkey! Come on man! Hey, mom! Uncle Randy fucked the turkey! THEIR DUMB QUESTION: How you been? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: Oh, pretty good. Can’t complain. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: That’s such good advice on how to suck a dick. Thank you. THEIR DUMB QUESTION: So… Who did you vote for President? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: Oh, we probably shouldn’t talk about politics. Let’s change the subject. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: I voted for your wife to stop finger banging herself all the time but I guess I lost, huh? THEIR DUMB QUESTION: You get any Christmas shopping done yet? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: I haven’t even started. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: I tried to buy you a dildo but they didn’t have any big enough to fit in your ass. I called the zoo to see if they had any hippo dildoes, but they said that’s not a thing. Sorry. THEIR DUMB QUESTION: Come on… Seriously. Who’d you vote for? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: I never vote for a party. Just for the person. Let’s just leave it at that. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: I always vote for whoever’s face most resembles a penis. So I voted for you. THEIR DUMB QUESTION: You want another beer? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: Sure. Thank you. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: No I won’t suck your dick for a dollar! THEIR DUMB QUESTION: Do you think this country is moving in the right direction? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: I try to be optimistic about the future. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: I think they should build a wall around your ass to keep all the foreigners out. But I have a feeling you’d keep letting them in anyway, right? THEIR DUMB QUESTION: Do you want a drumstick? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: Sure! Thanks! WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: I made a poopy. THEIR DUMB QUESTION: Do you prefer white or dark meat? WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SAY: A little of both please. WHAT YOU SAY THIS THANKSGIVING: In my ass or in my mouth?  As we’ve done in the past, the Intergalactic Business Report sent writers into the afterlife to tell us what’s actually happening there. The results were astounding and some cherished myths busted. Here’s what we found: MYTH ONE: In the end, what you’ll really be judged on is how you treated other people. THE TRUTH: One of our writers, who is super nice to everyone, received a “biggest pussy in the universe” badge when he entered the afterlife. MYTH TWO: You can’t take your money and possessions with you. THE TRUTH: Turns out all the cultures who buried stuff with dead people were right. Those guys are rich now. If you were wearing a nice suit in your coffin or had a pocket watch or something, you can probably sell them for something. But otherwise, you’re pretty fucked. Since most cultures nowadays won’t allow you to bury servants and boats in your grave with you, our advice is to just stuff hundred dollar bills in your dead pockets and wear a lot of expensive jewelry. MYTH THREE: You can eat whatever you want and not get fat. THE TRUTH: Don’t fall for this one. As soon as you arrive, some dude with a mustache comes by with a taco cart and tells you that you can have a million of them. And you can. But then you look kind of like Jabba the Hutt and can’t move. Forever. MYTH FOUR: You’ll be able to look down at people on Earth and help them in mysterious ways. THE TRUTH: They only let you look when people are masturbating. And you can’t help them, even if you want to. We tried. Believe us. MYTH FIVE: Everything makes sense and you understand what you were doing on Earth. THE TRUTH: Nope. When you arrive you need to take a test kind of like the SAT, only a lot harder. They have math problems no one’s ever heard of because they’re in some language you’ve never seen. Then they tell you where you placed on the exam and make a lot of under their breath comments about how fucking stupid you are and when you ask, “What did you just say?” they say, “Nothing…” and then they just start giggling to each other. MYTH SIX: You’ll meet family and loved ones who’ve passed on. THE TRUTH: Maybe. They’ve been watching you masturbate for a long long time and they’re a little weirded out by seeing you, so give them a while. MYTH SEVEN: Your penis gets as large as you want it to be. THE TRUTH: Maybe this isn’t a myth you’ve heard. But we thought we could wish for it since we were in heaven or whatever. Nope. It made our penises even smaller. Fuck this.  Disappointment burn #1. You are now the victim of the Intergalactic Business Report’s very first disappointment burn. Congratulations. You may be a little off balance, upset, or just super duper disappointed right now. That’s normal. Below we describe what just happened and how you can deal with it. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: We promised a crazy bikini picture if you clicked. We have nothing. HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Picture the craziest bikini photo ever with the hottest model you can imagine. Now pretend you’re seeing it. While this will never make up for not actually seeing the craziest bikini photo ever, it’s something, right? WHAT JUST HAPPENED: With free internet porn in abundance, you still clicked to see a photo of a woman wearing clothing. Why? HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Do an internet search for actual bikini photos or maybe just hardcore porn. There you go. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: You are so bored with your life that instead of doing anything else, you took the time to click on something that promised the “craziest bikini photo ever.” What’s wrong with you? HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Accept that you have reached a level so low in your life that you’re willing to not only click on random crap about bikinis, but also read this crap, which is really really crappy. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: In a fleeting moment, you believed you’d get some small satisfaction by viewing a picture of some woman in a swimsuit. You are not satisfied at all and are, instead, reading this total nonsense, which just makes everything way way worse. HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Go to the store. Buy a bikini. Wear it. Take a picture of yourself. Post it online. Or send it to us and we’ll post it. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: You used your finger to click something that you knew deep down could never give you any true happiness. You did it anyway. HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Take a moment to reconsider all your stupid actions. Ever. We’re going to bet it’s a long long list. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: You spent three minutes of your life reading this instead of being with your family, exercising, or doing practically anything positive. You can never get this time back. HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: Probably just tell us to go fuck ourselves for even saying that because what a dickish thing to bring up. You could really say that to anyone about anything he/she ever does because how many of us do super productive, positive things ever? Exactly. WHAT JUST HAPPENED: You have just been fucked in the mind. HOW YOU SHOULD DEAL: It is up to you to decide whether or not you enjoy “mind sex.” If you like it, keep clicking on crappy crap like this and read the Intergalactic Business Report. We do dumb shit like this all the time.  For years, I wouldn’t tell anyone about my trust fund. It was like this big conversation killer that changed the way people thought of me the moment they found out about it. It was like being married to someone you needed for financial support but whom you didn’t love.
Here’s the main thing about having a trust fund. It means that you’re taken care of for the rest of your life, which is great. But it also means that every person you know—all your friends, lovers, neighbors, and colleagues—will always resent you for having something they feel was just given to you, while they have to work for everything they get. I just realized I mentioned “colleagues” in that list of people who judge you when you have a trust fund. I should be clearer on this. A colleague is someone you work with. I don’t need to work. And I don’t feel like just working to say I’m working, because that’s dishonest. Also, I feel like by me taking a work-job, that would mean that I’m denying someone else of it. So I don’t do that. Which brings me to an interesting point. You would think that people who work for a living would be thankful to me for not taking one of their jobs. They aren’t. But every trust fund kid who decides to spend their day shopping or buying boats or taking a vacation somewhere great is doing this every minute, all the time. And this contributes to a higher employment rate for everyone, everywhere. It’s a little thing, maybe, but it means so much because if I really wanted to, I could buy a McDonald’s franchise, for instance, and just close it because I felt like it. That would leave a bunch of people unemployed. But I don’t do that. I think that would be wrong. I wanted to use this column—and yes, my trust fund paid for this*--so that I could do more than just help unemployment numbers. I wanted to impart real wisdom to people who aren’t capable of thinking for themselves. People like you, I’m assuming. It’s not your fault that you are dumber than me. My money helped me reach a higher level of intelligence. You don’t have that money, and so you aren’t able to think how I can. But I consider you “special” and I want to help you. And I promise, I will make this as simple as possible, so you can understand. Again, I don’t say all this to be condescending** or rude. I say it because I care about people. I guess that some people in my family, a long time ago, were involved with the slave trade, and that’s how we all got so rich. I don’t even know why I’m bringing that up except to say that even something terrible can lead to something good, eventually, if you give it enough time to heal. And so I want to heal you today by giving you five pieces of advice you didn’t know. Follow these and do better with your life. Maybe you’ll even get a trust fund, like me! 1. Don’t think in terms of dollars and cents. Poor people think of money as actual dollar bills that they give to strippers and so forth. But did you know that with a no limit credit card, you can practically buy a stripper? (I know, people aren’t for sale anymore, but I’m just saying.) 2. Money can make you more beautiful. My father is ugly as fuck. Everyone says so. I can barely look at him. But he married my mom, who’s like a really really hot model, even though she’s in her forties and getting gross and old. When they had kids, I turned out beautiful, because I got most of her genes. My little brother is ugly as fuck, just like my dad, but it doesn’t matter because he’s a guy and he can marry a model like my mom. 3. Stop thinking like a poor person! I know. You’re so poor that it’s like telling a fat person to just stop being so fat. But what if the fat person starting thinking like a skinny person? In his mind, he’d be slim and not disgusting. You can do that with your poorness! 4. Always have a maid to blame stuff on. I know. You’re not rich enough to have a maid, so maybe get a friend of yours with really low self-esteem to take the fall every time you screw up. Maybe your friend is nasty-looking or even works as a maid. The point is, you can always use someone below you to pin blame on. Caught with cocaine? That’s the maid’s cocaine. Hit and run accident? My maid was driving. Just replace “maid” with your friend’s name. 5. Have a good attitude. I can’t tell you how many non-trust fund people I meet who just have shitty attitudes that totally bring me down. You may think I don’t notice it, but I do. Stop complaining about your work, your life, and whatever else. You’re alive. You’re poor, but alive. That’s awesome for you. *The editors at IBR will take your money if you want to be a journalist, columnist, or whatever. Make them an offer. **This is a word I know from having an elite education from pre-eminent*** schools you’ve probably never heard of but if you mentioned them in front of rich people, the rich people would say, “Oh, yeah, I know that school. My grandfather went there,” and stuff like that. ****Another word that elite people use. I’m assuming you don’t know what it means because when would a word meaning “the best” come up in your conversations? You’d probably be more familiar with words like, “average,” and “just o.k.” and “time to kill myself I’m so average.” Haley Debaron has a trust fund. It makes her rich. Probably richer than you and we don’t even know you. There’s nothing more to say really, than that. You can contact Haley at info@intergalacticbiz.com. The simple scientific reasons for why wires and cords get tangled. You won’t believe these.11/4/2019  Ever leave a charging cable, headphones, or anything with wires alone for five minutes only to come back to a mess of tangled insanity? Finally, science has the answers for how this happens. And they’re simpler than you think. 1. The devil. Yes, who would have thought that Old Scratch himself was responsible for your wires getting jumbled up. But a recent study concluded that the only way possible for a bunch of cords and stringy cables to suddenly move into incomprehensible nonsense was if Satan intervened and just said, “I’m going to spend the next two minutes fucking with Brett Standish of Cornish, Vermont by doing this to his shit.” 2. The wires are having sex with each other. While wires don’t have visible genitals, some scientists have submitted a theory that they receive and give sexual pleasure by rubbing themselves against one another. As they do this, they become tangled, and when you reappear to say, “How the fuck did this happen?” they freeze in embarrassment. 3. A witch put a curse on you. This doesn’t sound scientific at first, until you consider that the witch has a degree in science from a scientific university. She uses her science knowledge, according to scientists, to curse your wires so that it makes you want to cut through them with scissors and flush them all. Why did she put a curse on you? Because she hates you. 4. Your brain is malfunctioning. The wires you see are actually not tangled at all, because it’s impossible for wires to spontaneously tangle. What you see is a projection your mind has invented because it hates you. 5. It is all an alien test. Space aliens shoot rays at our wires from their space ships in order to test us. If you totally freak out, they know you are too stupid to be turned into one of their podmonsters. So freak out next time your see your fucked up wires. 6. You did it and you’re totally insane. Scientists agree the most likely explanation for tangled wires and cords is that you are bat shit crazy and blackout while you tangle everything. Then you come to and look at the mess you’ve created, thinking it happened on its own. You really need to get some help. |
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