General
I Did Not Win That Competetion
Growing up in the Mojave Desert, I thought I knew heat. Barstow in August is an incinerator where the air smells like melted asphalt and roasted lizard skin. Barstow is the home of the world's largest thermometer for a reason... the area is hot enough to melt your soul. So, when I met Jerimiah ( a man who is, for the record, a walking, breathing smoke show ) I assumed my thermal credentials were fully established.
By Sara Wilson3 months ago in Humor
Self-Checkout Is Just Unpaid Employment
There was a time when grocery shopping was beautifully uncomplicated. You grabbed your groceries, rolled your cart to the front of the store, exchanged a few pleasant words with the cashier, and someone, an actual employee, bagged everything while you wondered whether you'd remembered to buy ketchup. Life was good.
By The Pompous Post3 months ago in Humor
Hot Soup for Brains. Winner in Too Hot for This Challenge. Top Story - August 2026.
I’d been dressing myself for how long now? Over three decades? And I still couldn’t get it right? The sun was most likely roasting everything in this corner of the planet, if you asked a scientist, but if you asked me, it was all funneling to my black shirt. My instinct was to wipe the sweat away from my forehead, but MORON… both your hands are occupied carrying this heavy box! I tried to pretend that I wasn’t sweating, and that the sweat that I wasn’t sweating wasn’t bothering me, and I continued down the sidewalk, sun sautéing my skin through my blackest of black shirts.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile3 months ago in Humor
High Noon At The Intersection of Oh My God
We all know that it was hot, like hotter than we wanted on Monday. It'd been hot all weekend, and the heat was brutally unrelenting for far too long. But it gets that way, sometimes. Sometimes, it gets so hot that the air is harder to breathe, and it gets unbearable. So, what is one to do?
By Jason Morton3 months ago in Humor
The Deadbug as an Existential Life Lesson
Yesterday, I fell down a YouTube rabbit hole, or, given the algorithm’s increasingly aggressive personalization, more a precisely engineered trench, and found myself watching a fitness instructor demonstrate the “deadbug exercise”.
By Scott Christenson🌴3 months ago in Humor
I Don’t Trust Anyone Who Answers the Phone Anymore...
There was a time, long ago, in a gentler and more naïve civilization, when the sound of a ringing phone meant something simple. It meant someone wanted to talk to you. That time is dead… Murdered. Buried beneath an avalanche of robocalls, extended warranties, suspicious silences, heavy breathing, and one deeply committed individual who keeps asking if you’ve considered switching to solar power, even though you live in a forest yurt, and haven’t seen the sun since 2009.
By The Pompous Post3 months ago in Humor
Lucy’s World
“Jesus fucking Christ, can it get any hotter?” Shannon wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Lucy just laughed from her throne. “Don’t be ridiculous—he’s upstairs with his daddy. I imagine your question was rhetorical, but I’m not into that shit.” A blast of heat flew from her fingers. “Straightforward all the way down here. Stop flapping your jaw and keep shoveling.”
By Harper Lewis 3 months ago in Humor
