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.
To you, the name Edgar Allen Poe might conjure three things: the Raven-black hair, the mustache, and of course, the macabre and lamp-lit streets of Baltimore. But what if I told you, although Poe spent his latter life in the City of Charm and thus frequently referenced it in his works, he was not, as it were, an Orioles fan? What if I told you instead that the illustrious Poe had more Red in him than that same Masque of Death that bore the name?
I first fell upon Poe’s suspect allegiance during my time as a young stowaway upon the dreary whaling ship, Grampus. It was there I spent my uneventful days idling amongst the benevolent midshipmen who, in brief respites abutting the ceaseless tempests tossing us to and fro, made it known to me over butts of soured wine that Poe was birthed a young Boston cur, and insisted that every bone of his pallid body yearned only for that shrouded, foreboding city.
Upon returning to land, I resolved to sail nevermore, and immediately struck out to reveal Poe’s alleged affinity. It was dead of night, and although my aghast eyes could barely reveal the path ahead of me, I could spy a presence very near my person, lingering in those stretched, crawling shadows wherein the light from the Dunkin Donuts penetrates through chary slits in the dark, towering maples lining the Commons. The figure was shrouded, quite girthy, and appeared to be pointing a large, solid object in its outstretched hand to somewhere behind me.
The boys on the Grampus had warned me of an apparition, long forgotten but believed in Poe’s time to be not only real, but the mark of perpetual Loss upon any who witnessed it. I ran to get closer to the phantasm, but in my haste, I tumbled and sprawled upon an upturned stone in my path, narrowly avoiding what appeared to be a deep pit, only to spy the words scratched deep in the earth:
B-A-M-B-I-N-O
Surely Poe did not believe such rumours? I laughed to myself, perhaps louder than necessary, perhaps in show to whatever was looming in my periphery that I did not give credence to the forlorn talk of superstitious sailors. But, fool that I am, I should have remained silent.
For as soon as I laughed, an anomalous creature emerged that made me sure of Poe’s allegiance—not out of hometown affinity, mind you, but fear, I now understood; fear of a silent madness which would entrap all men if they, like me, did not believe; fear of that haunted spirit that bounded towards me now, sock bloodied, wrapping me in its embrace.
As we plummeted headlong into the pit, all I could hear was his hoary whisper:
“When you die,” it said, with a sadness I could never forget, “I will be the last of the old, old franchise—the House of Bambino.”
In a move that shocked the entire nonprofit industry, terminally ill child Danny Velasquez wasted his once in a lifetime Make-A-Wish on tickets to a Minnesota Timberwolves game. Velasquez reportedly squandered his one and only opportunity to do whatever his heart desired on $110 lower-level seats he could have just asked his parents for.
“I regret referring him to the program,” said Velasquez’s oncologist, Dr. Jeremy Weiss, adding that he made certain Velasquez knew he could have anything in the entire world. “He’s not even from Minnesota. He just likes their logo and sometimes plays as the Timberwolves on NBA 2K23. He could’ve sat courtside with John Cena to watch Lebron play Steph, but instead he’s going to see a middling T-Wolves team play the Kings in Minnesota during the winter.”
Velasquez’s wish granter reported that while his request was unorthodox, she was required to grant it. “It’s unprofessional to judge but seriously, come on. Last week, Little Tommy Andrich swam with sharks in the Caribbean, and Maggie Baumann sang a duet with Beyonce. Now those were wishes. I didn’t get into this business to secure tickets to the Target Center with local talk radio legend Dan ’The Common Man’ Cole.”
Velasquez’s parents implored their son to place more value on his life and take a daytrip to the Mall of America, Paisley Park, or even swing by the Mayo Clinic for a potential life-saving cure. Unfortunately, Velasquez just shook his head and said: “TIMBERWOLVES.”
LeBron is life, LeBron is basketball, and it’s said that wherever two or more people are gathered in his name, LeBron is with them. But is it really possible to define or even “locate” LeBron James? We’re going to do the hard work for you: Here the top thirty NBA teams ranked by how many LeBron Jameses they have.
The Cavs have had many LeBrons, thin-bearded LeBrons, fuzzy-bearded LeBrons, long-bearded LeBrons, bald-faced LeBrons — all the way back to when he was a kid, cheering them on at Gund Arena. LeBron will always be in the Cavs’ hearts, despite those hearts being broken from his absence.
The Bulls don’t really have LeBron, but back in the day they had a guy named Michael Jordan who historians say may have been the LeBron of his time.
Had him, lost him…still got him? Sorry – this Miami club is too loud for us to think!
Different from the Cavs and are LeBron-less. If you know, you know.
Wouldn’t LeBron look great in blue and gold? Indiana thinks so. (Is it possible they already have LeBron? Is that why they’re not in the playoffs?)
People say that if LeBron weren’t in the NBA, he’d make a terrific tight end. Let’s put it to the super-test with Jacksonville. Also: Lawrence to the Lakers.
LeBron carrying a team of undisciplined Looney Tunes in Hollywood? What is this, the Lakers?
LeBron will likely never play for the Kings. Still, they share an arena, so we’ll give them one LeBron.
10–29. Several Teams
Because isn’t LeBron James “America’s team” wherever he is? Can’t we all lay claim to him? Rumor has it that LeBron will suit up for any team photo in the U.S., abroad, or space (of course) as long as they give him two days’ notice. And if he returns to L.A. exhausted, no problem — he’ll sit out!
Nah — not if Russell Westbrook is there.
-Jerry Jones
on Breast Cancer Awareness Month
Tom Brady — Excellence. Dedication. Sacrifice. My 82-year old dad? Lazy. Bottom-percentile measurables. Retired since 2007. Tom Brady was only retired for a month, so I think the fifteen years my dad has spent lazing about, watching the hummingbirds and mourning my stepmom or whatever the hell he does all day is long enough.
It’s time my dad got off his ass and started pulling his weight around here, and there’s only one method that can help: TB12. The problem is he lacks Brady’s commitment to excellence. When I caught him eating a piece of toast yesterday, he blubbered, “The acai smoothies hurt my ulcers.”
What part of “you need to reduce your K/NA ratio and raise intracellular magnesium with an alkaline diet” isn’t clear? TB12 isn’t just a training regimen; it’s a holistic lifestyle, and I’m going to put my whole foot up his ass if he doesn’t shut up and eat his dandelion greens.
And his dedication to pliability? Pathetic. It’s the key to Brady’s longevity, but this crybaby keeps complaining about his hip replacement. Brady never needed a hip replacement, and he ate 543 career sacks like it was avocado ice cream.
Am I being hard on my dad? Sure, but no one’s harder than Tom Brady is on himself, and look what he’s accomplished? I just wanna see my dad get to the pinnacle of his field once again: another gold watch from Sears for being “an accountant.”
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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Joke:
Article: John
Editor: Constantine
Proofreader:
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.
