ComicRelief
DATING APPS – THE USED CAR LOT OF LOVE (NOW WITH MORE MILEAGE AND LESS HOPE)
WELCOME TO THE DIGITAL AUTO MALL OF DESPAIR Welcome to modern romance, where love is no longer found in smoky bars or awkward setups from your aunt. It’s parked on a virtual lot next to a thousand other vehicles, all shouting: “Low mileage! Great paint job! Serious inquiries only!”
By The Pompous Post7 months ago in Humor
THE SPINAL FRONTIER:
Forget the Mayo Clinic. Forget those "scientists" in their sterile labs, squinting at double-blind studies like they’re trying to decode the Matrix. If we want to Make America Healthy Again, we need to stop listening to people who understand how cells work and start listening to the guy in the strip mall next to the Vape Depot who can "realign your soul" for $75 and a firm handshake.
By Meko James 7 months ago in Humor
The Housing Market is on Fire... Literally. Rent Comes with Free Marshmallows Now.
Welcome, You Brave Homeless Souls Congratulations, reader. If you’re viewing this newsletter, it means you can still afford Wi-Fi… Cherish that… Because according to Zillow, the average rent for a one-bedroom apartment is now an arm and a leg, one functioning kidney, a vial of dragon’s blood, and three Funko Pops from 2018.
By The Pompous Post7 months ago in Humor
Duct Tape, Bubble Gum, and Baling Wire: The Poor Man’s Welding Torch
They say necessity is the mother of invention. But out here in the real world, it’s more like duct tape, bubble gum, and baling wire are the unholy trinity of emergency repair… and she is one tough mama.
By The Pompous Post7 months ago in Humor
Why the Rich Never Tell White Lies After Labor Day
Every year, as the last rosé is chilled, the final seaplane taxis off to Aspen, and Labor Day folds its socially acceptable linen napkin, an ancient tradition quietly stirs among the elite: They stop telling white lies. Why you ask?
By The Pompous Post7 months ago in Humor
The Lavender Tsunami and the Great Pool Slide Barricade
Dear Mary, Please accept my most sincere apologies for the state of the downstairs guest bathroom. I know you specifically asked me to keep the “Sanctuary Suite” pristine for your mother’s arrival this evening, and I truly regret that the Egyptian cotton towels now smell faintly of low-tide and desperation.
By Meko James 7 months ago in Humor
OOPS!
I saw it in slow motion, Angie's arm going up into the air, her hand gripping her ice cream cone. The cone and ice cream separating from her hand, from each other. Tumbling down to the pavement in unceremonious somersaults, like an Olympic diver who had gotten drunk before their big moment.
By Raine Fielder7 months ago in Humor
The MAGA-thon: Spite, Saturated Fats, and the Spin Cycle of Doom
The air in the "Spin Cycle" studio at the local gym was thick with the scent of organic citrus floor cleaner and the collective, desperate sweat of a dozen people trying to outrun their own bad decisions and mortality. But for Brenda, it smelled like treason. It smelled like a deep-state, gluten-free, avocado-toast-eating, woke communist conspiracy, that was personally trying to steal her breath and destroy her life.
By Meko James 7 months ago in Humor
Inside the Mind of Dr. Tina Quartz: Healer, Hoax, or Just Really Into Mason Jars?
You’ve heard the name whispered across candlelit kombucha bars. You’ve seen her quotes tattooed in Comic Sans on the backs of people named Trysten. You may have even enrolled, accidentally, in one of her courses after clicking on an ad that said: “Unlock Your Aura’s Credit Score.”
By The Pompous Post7 months ago in Humor
