With the lights out, it’s less dangerous/
Here we are now, entertain us/
I feel stupid and contagious/
Here we are now, entertain us/
A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido/
A denial, a denial, a denial, a denial, a denial/
A denial, a denial, a denial, a denial.
In one of the boldest moves yet to counteract climate disaster, the president of Qatar’s Government Development Bureau, Rizwan bin Nasir Al-Fayyad, announced on Thursday that all World Cup stadiums currently under construction will now be required to be comprised of 95-percent migrant laborer bodies.
“With all the energy we will need to use to cool the stadiums, we have heard your criticisms loudly and clearly,” stated Al-Fayyad, who also mentioned that thanks to his country’s relaxed labor laws and the kafala system’s innovative method of rapid passport confiscation, the material itself could be sourced quickly and basically for free. “By switching over to this completely organic, biodegradable material, we hope to demonstrate our unique commitment to preserving humanity—both figuratively and literally.”
According to the government’s environmental impact report, use of migrant bodies has the potential to reduce carbon dioxide emissions by a staggering 100 percent as soon as the material is harvested. Al-Fayyad also noted that, unlike traditional materials, the bodies were an entirely renewable resource, with a new crop of migrant laborer able to be collected in as little as 18 years, although he did note it was important not to let the material mature much longer than this to avoid development of class consciousness.
Although the material has never been used before, the unique choice is already making waves in the international community, with nations such as China, Saudi Arabia, and North Korea indicating that they are already developing pilot programs of their own to test the material’s efficacy.
As for the initial program, if it proves successful, Qatar plans to implement a second phase of sustainable development whereby the new steel used to build the stadiums’ bleachers would instead be replaced by rows of living migrant laborers for attendees to sit on.
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Article: John
Editor: Constantine
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Yes, the pandemic death rates might be thinning, but that beer belly of yours sure isn’t! We say it’s time you ditch the soft, pudgy Dad Bod and instead crater it into the horrifying, completely impotent modern art sculpture that will make her say, “What the fuck am I looking at?”! Here are five exercises to help you get started:
Ladies, look out next week for our list of the best ways to get a six-pack uterus.
If you’re poor gutter trash like us at Sports Riot and don’t make seven figures a month, here’s the top five sports your trailer-park piece-of-garbage-ass shouldn’t even fantasize about playing:
It’s expensive to run a gym. And the lawsuit payouts from harboring predators can get insane. That’s why some gymnastics lessons can run $200 a week, which is a lot of money to learn you can’t do more than summersault. Looks like you’ll be sticking to flipping on your rusted-out trampoline for the low, low cost of one tetanus shot.
Don’t let ‘The Mighty Ducks” fool you. Poor kids can’t afford the ice time, equipment, or loads of disgusting pads that stink up their parents’ pathetic three-bed, two-bath house. And for us middle-class scum, it’s either street hockey or living on the street after trying to afford the real thing which would also lead to street hockey.
Not only do you have to have the money to buy and maintain a horse — which can run up to $20,000 a year — but you also have to shell out money for horse swimming lessons, too. That’s on top of acquiring a pool big enough to fit every player’s horse, many of which need to be replaced after they drown. Annoying!
That’s right: Human Hunting. If you thought it shouldn’t cost more than the price of a gun to hunt people, think again. Not only do you have to be an eccentric billionaire, but you also need to own your own island. And after that, prepare to cough up millions in payouts for local police to look the other way. But hey, we bums can still be the hunted!!
No doubt about it: Golf is for rich assholes who blow their noses in 1500 thread count sheets and use Uber Black to get from hole to hole. Slobs like us in our Dockers won’t even be let past the gate.
Highlights from today’s amazing blowout against the small island nation of Tuvalu in the South Pacific prove the US Women’s National Soccer Team has racked up another courageous win for feminism.
Nothing could hold the American spirit back during the match that took place on one of the third world nation’s thinly populated nine islands — not even the jeers and pleas for mercy from the crowd.
“We weren’t sure if the other team had the advantage, them being used to playing on these fields and all,” said forward Ashley Hatch of the holes left from World War II American bombs.
“But somehow, we were able to pull-off a 35-0 victory.”
Indeed, the USWNT deftly maneuvered around various obstacles, like buried landmines and armed guerillas, who ensured the Tuvaluan women kept every inch of their skin covered at all times under threat of public execution.
Star goalkeeper, Alyssa Naeher, said the team was able to turn such potential pitfalls into advantages. “The craters forced us to up our passing game, which tired the other team out pretty quickly in the 103-degree weather,” Naeher said. “We became unstoppable. I mean, the Tuvaluan team was literally unconscious by the fourth minute of play.”
The American women look forward to rallying together in sisterhood this Saturday to absolutely destroy Iran’s new women’s team, who were just legally allowed to touch sports equipment last December.
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Article: Laura
Editor: Constantine
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We’re coming to you live from the Bikram Wellness Center on Ventura Blvd., – where honestly – you don’t stand a chance to finish this yoga class. Tonight’s guest yogi guru is none other than Baba Ramdev, and his “No limits” philosophy has earned him the nickname throughout India as “The Bombay Bad Boy.” With the average student in tonight’s yoga class having 5% body fat, you know, they know, you know they know that you’re fucked.
“Baba knows just where to push my boundaries. Nobody can get me in shape before a triathlon like he can,” shared a regular student at the Bikram Center who you have no hope of ever competing with. “Ha! I do yoga on my cheat day. It’s just relaxing after combatting forest wildfires the other six days of the week,” lamented another shredded student and firefighter who led the chit-chat with the factoid that he can hold his breath underwater for five minutes.
Remember – you’re not them. Yoga is for everyone, just push, push, push your limits. And, try not to shit your pants.
A lot of self help “experts” will tell you thousands of ways to improve yourself. Reading, meaningful relationships, talking about feelings. I’m here to tell you that’s all goddamn nonsense. Now, drop and give me 20.
The journey to 20 was a long one. I was broke, weak, and at the edge. I followed the advice of those closest to me. I tried taking a lap, and nothing. Hell, I even hit the showers, and still felt empty. Then one day, my dad, laying on his deathbed, looked me right in the eyes, and whispered “drop and give me 20, you giant vagina.” However, I was young and stupid, and hadn’t given myself 20 in a long, long time. I could only give him 10, and he looked at me with such disappointment before the light left his eyes. Never again.
Others have ignored my advice. One time, I had a friend get cute and gave me 20 burpees. I immediately cut him out of my life, and last I heard, could barely do a crunch. You know who had the foresight in 1994 to drop and give me 20? Jeff Bezos. Bezos dropped, gave me 20, and then started Amazon. You think he would be where he is today if he only gave me 10?
It doesn’t matter if it’s 4 AM. Be ready to give me 20. Grocery store? Put down that soy milk, and give me 20. Having a nervous breakdown? 20. Birth of your child? You better be popping out 20.
If you’ve made it this far, you’ve already failed. Reading this article is not the same as dropping and giving me 20. So, get on your fucking hands, and GIVE ME 20.
Finding the perfect jockstrap for one penis is hard enough, but what if you’re special and your penis is really just three little penises stacked on top of one another in a trench coat? Don’t worry, we’ve carefully researched all available options, and here are our recommendations for your little ones.
3) SKYSPER Men’s Jockstrap Athletic Supporter Jock Straps Male Underwear You want your little ding-dong to fit in with the grown men?
This SKYSPER jockstrap features a stretch elastic waistband and form-fitting fabric that will aid your three little peens from ever rousing suspicion. Even if they have to reshuffle the order if the bottom penis gets too tired, the SKYSPER affords them just enough room to make the switch. No single penis in the locker room will ever know.
2) Shock Doctor Athletic Supporter Jockstrap with Cup Pocket
There’s probably nothing more frustrating than getting asked out for drinks with the gang knowing you have three little penises propped up under a trench coat.
Ample space is just what the Shock Doctor ordered. You don’t have to focus on the three penises flailing around with this one when the bartender asks for your ID. Just confidently say, “Here’s my ID. I’m over 21, and I have one regular penis in my pants just like you.”
1) Arjen Kroos Men’s Sexy Jockstrap Underwear Athletic Supporter
Big kids like you normally have one penis and one wife. Your adult wife needs to be confident that when you come home after obtaining entry into a midnight screening of Major League because your three trench coat penises are very much over the age of 18 that you’re safe. Luckily, Arjen Kroos values safety and will never reveal the odd shape cast from the three separate penises very obviously trying to disguise themselves as one normal big-kid penis.
Now that you’ve got our recommendations, it’s time to grab your parents’ debit card and order the penile support your bold package deserves. Well, what are you waiting for? It’s time to be a big boy and go play ball!
An SUV full of ESPN analysts just collided with an overturned tanker truck and is now engulfed in flames. The fire department is twenty minutes away, so we’ve taken this opportunity to rank each analyst by how long we plan on waiting before pulling them from the burning wreckage.
Tony Kornheiser & Michael Wilbon
Often imitated, never duplicated, the longtime hosts of Pardon the Interruption are two pioneers in the sports media landscape. Out of respect for this legendary pairing, they would be two of the first analysts we’d pull out of this flaming—ah shit, the two minutes we had to get them out is up.
Stephen A. Smith
When we arrived at the scene, Stephen A. Smith was busy criticizing the fire’s lack of focus, content to lazily smolder around him instead of searing his flesh with vicious efficiency. We meant to pull him out earlier, but he launched into a rant about how he hasn’t seen a Heat performance this preposterously pathetic since last year’s game seven playoff loss to the Celtics, and we were so engrossed we forgot about the fire for 10 minutes.
Dan Orlovsky
We wanted to leave Orlovsky in longer, but the NFL Live analyst wouldn’t shut up about the fire’s brilliant game plan. We couldn’t hear ourselves think, so we pulled the verbose analyst out of the fiery inferno and kicked him into a nearby ditch.
Chris Berman
We love Boomer – the legendary Sportscenter anchor has always been there to entertain us in our time of need. But considering he’s sitting in the back, back, back, backseat of this SUV, his eternal soul could…go…all…the…way before we’re able to retrieve him from this flaming wreckage.
Max Kellerman
This Just In: Max Kellerman is not getting out of this SUV if we have anything to say about it. We were worried his ice cold takes might shield him from the raging inferno, so we shoved him in the trunk and snapped the key off in the lock to make sure.
Honorable Mention – Skip Bayless
Skip Bayless wasn’t in the ESPN SUV due to leaving for Fox Sports in 2016, but that didn’t stop us from pulling him out of his personal vehicle and shoving him into the raging inferno.
The organization formerly known as NASCAR disbanded Thursday following the qualifying of its first-ever Nissan Leaf. The Daytona 500 takes the top 42 qualifiers of Bluegreen Vacations Duel’s 150-lap race; the Leaf placed an impressive and unfortunate 23rd.
Racers and fans alike expressed outrage at the Leaf, which, with 99 miles to the gallon, qualified without need of a pit stop. It did, however, pause for a decaf latte at lap 115. “What kind of dumbass, piss-ass, wimp-ass shit is this?” said longtime NASCAR fan Ted Kirn. “You can’t even rev an electric motor. And who the hell’s the old lady driving that thing? She’s no Danica Patrick, I’ll tell you that.”
The “old lady” is Edi Hines, 54, a graduate of Vassar College and some-time volunteer at Seattle’s Leschi Library. Hines reports to have qualified while listening to “a great little NPR piece on the new Pfizer vaccine.” Hines drove wearing the same KN-95 she wore to the press conference, where she revealed that her strategy was “just bump and run, bump and run — and hit the low groove as quick as possible.” She drove without number or sponsorship but for a modest bumper sticker reading “Coexist.”
Hines expressed disappointment in NASCAR’s sudden disbanding, saying she was set on winning Daytona and drinking the famous jug of milk. “Oat milk,” she clarified. “Responsibly sourced.”
NASCAR shareholders are now considering a rebrand with more sustainable vehicles. There is even a push to change the name to NASDAR, or the National Association of Self-Driving Auto Racing.
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Writer: Jeff
Editor: Laura
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