By Joe Rumrill
WEST HARTFORD, Conn. — Disturbed onlookers rolled their eyes as local bozo Sturgill Lacey clearly envisioned himself in an opening film’s montage due to the music he was listening to, sickened sources confirmed.
“I mean, we can’t really hear what he’s listening to in his headphones, but, c’mon, the guy is clearly imagining that he’s the main character of the planet today. Jauntily skipping over puddles, and petting every dog he comes across. I guess the plot is about a man who unites his entire community through cringing?” lamented local coffee shop owner Imani Hempstead, as she made eye contact with a customer as if to say “I know, right?” “Ah jeez, did you see that? He just said ‘bonjour’ to the baker across the street, like he’s Belle or something! Someone needs to kick this dude’s ass. Now that, I’d watch!”
Lacey’s response did little to combat the town’s suspicion.
“Sorry, can’t talk now! On my way to my high-powered job as a corporate lawyer, maybe! Or perhaps today’s the day I win back my lost love, the one that got away because I just couldn’t give her what she deserved, until today!” murmured Lacey, as the plodding strains of the Buzzcocks’ “Why Can’t I Touch It?” blasted faintly from his earbuds. “Hell, I may even need to do some of this commute in slow motion. Ah, bonjour monsieur bread baker! How are vous today, mon frere! Ah, can’t talk long, ze chorus, she is coming back up!”
As luck would have it, the film crew behind the upcoming 24-hour Truman Show-esque documentary series on Lacey titled “Simply Sturgill” admitted this wasn’t in their plan.
“This dummy’s ruining the whole show! It’s sucking the fun out of everything now that he’s pretending to actually be filmed. We need a guy who doesn’t think that would happen at all!” said director of photography Michaela Windstrom-Linz. “And if he starts singing along, our music licensing budget surely doesn’t cover an actual Buzzcocks song. Damn, I knew I should have taken that three-camera sitcom job over at CBS. Reality TV, man, it really is ruining everything.”
At press time, the imagined movie in question ended up having only enough footage for a short film, as Lacey thankfully got creamed by a city bus.
By Tyler Roland
Well, it’s a week into 2025, and let’s just cut the bullshit right here, right now. Fuck it, 2026 will be my year. 2025 is just not it.
Just thirteen minutes into the new year, I knew the next twelve months were toast. I drunk-texted my ex, we’ve all been there, right? Well, she just unloaded this huge update on me. Turns out the new guy popped the question when the ball dropped and they’re getting hitched in February. That’s Valentine’s Day already messed up. Clearly the first week of 2025 was not the right week to quit Big Macs. Also drinking.
I figured I would just take a knee for the week and go at me new year new me plan full force on January 8th, but wouldn’t you know it, my mom texted me. Turns out my brother wiped out his student loans and got a huge promotion on his first day back after the holidays, and instead of just being happy for him she had all sorts of questions about when I was going to “make something” out of myself. Well Mom, right now as a matter of fact, but since you decided to trigger me like that it looks like another week of Big Macs and booze for me! Also lethargy.
Just looking at this upcoming year, I should have known this would not be the one. I just checked the calendar and my birthday, June 13th, is on a Friday this year. What a fucking drag. Call me superstitious, but to me that’s just a bad omen that says another lazy year of booze and Big Macs. Also, pretty sure I’m losing my job.
My whole plan in 2025 was nonstop entrepreneuring, but all of my ideas are falling apart right before my eyes. Like making a mini-golf chain called “Golf of America,” that ain’t happening now.
Oh, well. 2026 is for sure gonna be my time to shine. I’ll get to work on a bunch of ideas that’ll pay off by 2030. Maybe do some crypto investing with my newfound fortune around 2032. By 2036…maybe 2040-ish…you’ll be sorry you ever doubted me.
By Matt Oriente
MOSES LAKE, Wash. — Your parents announced that your childhood trauma will now be officially rebranded as “how things were done in those days,” confirmed sources currently discussing this in therapy.
“We just want to make sure things are viewed in the right light now that our children are grown adults with opinions,” explained your dad. “Did it really matter that I didn’t hug my kids enough? Honestly, I thought that’s what their grandparents were for. But again—that’s just the way it was in those days. Things like putting your career first to climb the corporate ladder and making as much money as possible for yourself was what you did. The reality was, sitting in an auditorium watching my two-year-old’s dance recital wasn’t going to pay the mortgage on our house that we paid $1,000 for. Now that house is worth $3.5 million.”
You understandably were concerned that the rebrand downplays the more significant moments of your childhood.
“We obviously don’t agree with the revamped memories, as it doesn’t allow for any sort of resolution or healthy dialogue with my parents to come to a mutual understanding,” you said. “I’ve talked to both my parents about this, and the moment you call them out, they just get this glazed over look in their eye and say ‘it is what it is,’ as if that explains why they still won’t tell me they’re proud of me. It’s frustrating.”
Donna Loverly, a researcher at UCLA studying the effects of childhood trauma on the population, thinks the issue isn’t so black and white.
“Defining and encapsulating ‘childhood trauma’ is complicated,” Loverly said. “Some kids legitimately go through significant psychological challenges that change them on a deep level. But what others view as childhood trauma can’t always be classified as that at all. It’s often just scenarios where the child wasn’t the absolute center of the universe for everyone around them and not realizing they are being extremely annoying. In those cases, we found that parents just needed a breather—always being ‘on’ as a parent is exhausting. It’s ok to take a few days or weeks off from parenting here and there for some quality ‘you’ time. That’s what I did and almost some of my adult kids still call me.”
At press time, you stated that you had no plans to have children but were set to marry someone this summer who, you admitted, reminds you a little too much of your dad.
SANDUSKY, Ohio — Bad news for Glenn Williamson. It seems he’s once again forgotten to skip his monthly order from Meundies and will be receiving another pair in the mail this month. This is the 28th month in a row Williamson has made this mistake and friends and family are beginning to wonder why he doesn’t just cancel his account.
“It’s honestly crazy to me he still has that membership,” Commented Williamson’s partner, David. “Whenever I do the laundry I have no idea where to put his pajama bottoms. His bottom two drawers are all whimsical pairs of boxer briefs. He doesn’t even throw out the old ones! He’s just accumulating so many and spending money that could be going towards something else, anything else! Like socks even! I know they sell socks, why doesn’t he order some of those? Lord knows he needs new ones.”
When reached for comment Williamson simply let out a bunch of expletives and simply said “No. not again!” It’s unclear whether or not he was more frustrated at himself for his own forgetfulness or simply the realization that another pair would be arriving in the mail soon. Either way the result is the same.
“We always reach out with an email prior to sending each pair to remind our customers it’s coming,” said Brenda, a Meundies customer service representative. “But with high quality micro modal products like these, why would you even want to skip? I’m sure Mr. Williamson will be relieved he didn’t skip when he sees a fun new print arrive in his mailbox this week!”
At press time Greg Williamson has still not canceled his account, assuring those closest to him that he’ll “get around to it eventually.”
BY Nick Coffman
CHAGRIN FALLS, Ohio — After relieving himself on everything that is actively disliked by large numbers of people, a local child, simply known as “Calvin” has reported that his bladder is now empty. The mischievous six-year-old confirmed his condition in a blog post on his website, UnauthorizedPiss.gov.
“The tank is officially empty,” Calvin’s blog starts. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’ve peed on just about everything. Fords, Xboxs, political leaders, you name it, there’s been a request for me to drop my pants and pee on it. It’s been fun. I just hope everyone remembers not to tell my mom and dad about these unauthorized urinations, or I’ll be in big trouble.”
What started as a joke, became a golden, luke-warm ticket for Calvin as more and more “pee requests” trickled in. It’s a source of revenue, that while now cut-off, is of no concern to the young entrepreneur.
“I’m six, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me to figure out how to make a living. Yeah, I would love to keep peeing on things, but that’s just not a realistic outlook,” Calvin relents in his blog. “I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to sell out like the kid down the street, oh what’s his name, Chuck Brown? I think it’s Chuck Brown. That blockhead wants to be an insurance company mascot. What kid wants to sell insurance? Get your head in the clouds Chuck. You could be an astronaut, or a firefighter. I’d rather do math homework than ever be a mascot for insurance, whatever that is.”
A source close to Calvin, who chose to remain anonymous for this story, worries the young boy may have tarnished his image by peeing on things.
“Why do people need this young boy to pee on something they don’t like? Can’t they just dislike it in silence and not make their hate a part of their personality,” the anonymous tiger said in a phone call. “Calvin should be going on adventures and peeing on things for fun, not to send a message.”
At press time, Calvin reportedly was trying to work up a stream of urine while standing over Donald Trump as requested by the president-elect himself.