Hey! That Old Lady Just Stole My Purse!

By Davylon Clortis

Here I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, boom! I got hit with about .8 pounds of searing hot meat!

You heard me right. She poured wet, hot meat from Tommy’s Burger and Meat Joint on my eyeballs and I couldn’t see a thing! Next thing I know, I’m in the street stumbling through traffic with meat in my eyes and that old lady is two blocks away!

I’m pretty sure that’s the old lady I saw at the corner store earlier today when I was buyin’ my buffalo potato skins. She was lookin’ at me funny then too, she gave me a hard squint and wouldn’t stop staring at my purse.

Come to think of it, that old lady definitely wanted that purse! The way she was holding it, flashing it around when she first walked into that corner store. I was honestly surprised when she just set it down on the shelf like that!

I mean, that thing was nice! Clearly she didn’t know how to treat it. I could tell when I felt it in my arms that the purse was glad to be in the right hands. It was warm, and it had a bunch of gum in there.

You have to help me track down this devil woman before I lose it. And I mean lose it.

I’m missing my son’s graduation to fight for this purse, and I’m not going to let you stand in my way.

I had my phone in the purse, can I use find my iPhone on yours so I can finish this once and for all?

Time to Take a Stand: I’m Sick of My Body Wash Calling Me a “Gel Douche”

By David Colton

THE PROGRESSIVE FUTURE — As a cisgender straight white man whose parents pay for my college, I think it’s about time somebody asked me what I believe in.

Well, this is it.

After years of bomb-throwing and suppression from within the confines of my bathtub, I have finally decided enough is enough.

No matter which brand I have my mom buy when she visits me at school every three weekends, I can’t seem to avoid the judgement that comes from the label of each bottle of viscous, goopy blue fluid I squirt into my hand and rub on my body.

I am sick and tired of being judged every three days when I decide to shower, and until then, I have a big announcement to make.

I will be boycotting all soap until every brand officially signs my contingency agreement, which has officially been made public.

I have already launched a GoFundMe with a modest goal of $30,000, but I won’t stop there. I have what it takes to commit to my goals, and I won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way.

There aren’t many of us who are willing to stand up and say ‘Not today, soap corporations.’

I think it’s time that changed. I would also like to announce that I am forming an exploratory committee for potential candidacy for the presidency of Venezuela.

Nothing is set in stone yet, but expect to see a questionable and vague story about why my former aides loathe me in the very near future.

Vince, I don’t want you coming near me or my nephew ever again.


By Tony Fadoosh

Now, Vinny, I know we’ve known each other for some time now, but what you did yesterday morning was simply impermissible. We’re both reasonable people, Vin. At least that’s what I thought. I don’t have any idea where you got that sick, twisted idea or where you even got that much cottage cheese.

I don’t want any hard feelings between the two of us, but I’m sorry to tell you that you won’t be able to see Bobby ever again. And I won’t ever be able to look you in the eyes ever again, so I won’t be able to see you either. And, unfortunately, he won’t ever be able to see cottage cheese again.

I want you to pack up your things from the third floor pantry and get your sausage links out of the fridge by two-thirty tomorrow, or I’m callin’ the cops. And this time, I’ll make sure the cop doesn’t like cottage cheese. I’m gonna put in a special request, in advance, for a cop who doesn’t like cottage cheese, just so I can make sure he gets your ass for good. And I’ve put in cop requests before. It’s not like this is just some ‘thing’ that I’m making up, this is the real deal. Actually, you know what they need? An app. That’s how you get the word out there, have people getting it on their phones and stuff, then you could make cop requests super easy. I’m gonna write them a letter.

Anyway, you and all of your various food items need to be out of the duplex by two-thirty, or else I’m going to lock you in Bobby’s bedroom and make you experience the absolute catastrophe of a gas giant you created. Don’t leave any shit behind either, because I know you like that shit. I know you like to leave behind your shirts and shit so you have an excuse to come back and feed my nephew more cottage cheese, but no more.

So I’ll say it one more time: keep your mattress out of my pantry and your liquid cheese away from adolescents.