Page 1 of our collection of absurdities.
Apparently, our mission was to rank the whole progressive metal discography. Instead, we just listed them by date, because we'd rather suffer through the effort than the music.
The disgraced pseudo-doctor announces his beloved jeans are surgically attached to his body, ensuring he never misses a moment of political nonsense.
Luxury travel is about curated, baffling experiences. Apparently, simply turning on a shower is now considered a threat to global innovation.
Andrew Tate, known for his dubious lifestyle and dubious statements, was correctly informed that Canada frowns on him. Turns out, some places are nicer than his manosphere podcast.
Apparently, the good old days were when late-night comedy involved jokes, not threats of violence. Some people miss the innocent days of mere laughter.
Are we sure our educators are only concerned with our knowledge of the Napoleonic Wars? These alarming signs suggest classroom plotters may be eyeing political targets.
Apparently, our federal government thinks executions are just insufficient party décor. They're even suggesting a YouTube livestream for electrocutions!
Apparently, the most profound diplomatic gift is a piece of fancy Americana with a lot of cursive. I weep for the historical significance of this exchange.
Pemex justifies hiring former soccer star Giovanni by claiming his greatest athletic moment was more valuable than any oil tender. Because, apparently, sporting glory is perfect for running pipelines.
Looks like this rising political star is having a leisurely, high-security waiting room experience. Someone keep him fed snacks, I assume.
Oh, *bless* the Oval Office. It seems a little shooting at a fancy dinner was proof enough for him to unilaterally declare that journalism is the problem. How original.
In a move that baffles even the toads, the Mets have relegated their beloved mascot to a highly athletic fielding position. I simply don't know what kind of strategy this is.
International crises are in full swing, ranging from Palmeiras celebrating early goals in Brazil to devastating conflict zones restoring passage on major highways. Meanwhile, Peru warns of coastal weather chaos, Argentina worries about future debt, and Cuba finally proving they can refine their own oil—it's a whole circus of overblown significance. None of it moves the tide, nor does it help with the fact that the Baja road to La Paz is still a two-hour, potholed, dust-choked existential crisis. Seriously, focus on the 12-foot swell at Cerritos; the world can burn while we wait for the asphalt.
The local Todos Santos expat scene is obsessed with the Power Waver Vibration Platform, a $983 device marketed as a miracle cure for 'ancestral disconnection' and 'chronic screen-glare exhaustion.' Local guru at Gaia Flow Yoga has begun mandatory pre-class sessions on the unit, asserting it 'aligns your root chakra via optimal frequency.' While the residents shake and sweat for the money, we know they still need the actual local clinic to treat the resulting dehydration and vitamin deficiencies.
Apparently, Michael Jackson's cinematic biography is just a highly paid excuse for a collective, disruptive flash mob. Spoiler alert: they were more interested in the dance-offs than the actual movie.
The former President threw a tantrum at a White House dinner after his burger was snatched. He now proposes a federal bill to protect fast food consumption.
Apparently, you can now achieve peak socialization at the local fair by drinking a michelada served in a fancy dog food bowl. At $250 pesos, it's a commitment to the bit.
Oh, the agony! The fans are furious that the referees called a play a goal, even though the fans themselves admit it happened. It's a real mystery, I think.
Apparently, the political fervor is so strong that even the plotters are committed to an increasingly diverse cast. One must appreciate the commitment to the bit.
According to this very scientific research, you can’t escape disaster; statistically, something terrible is due any day now. Looks like the Toads need to start buying our life insurance.
Turns out, a booze-soaked Italian dessert can't be helped if it crosses Baja-level commitment. We're doomed.
We’ve got a new blueprint for the DEN—a place where everything you need is exactly 75 miles out. Efficiency is overrated, apparently.
Apparently, the deep state is now negotiating peace terms, and the required bargaining chip involves vastly superior decorative party goods.
It seems the sacred vows of patriotism have been replaced by shouting about hedge funds and scandalous legal exposure. The glory days of 'Dying for oil!' are officially over, friends.
Apparently, modern addiction has optimized its services, bundling screen time and questionable viewing into one slick, convenient package.
It turns out being head of federal law enforcement is less 'dignified' and more 'hangover core' for Kash Patel. The Onion reports on the secret life of professional chaos.
Apparently, Marseille is celebrating its long stretch of zero wins by selling a special commemorative jersey. They even included tissues and eye drops for the heartbroken fandom.
Turns out, sometimes the fight against wrinkles is more dramatic than the actual criminal underworld. Jimena decided the mirror needed a hero.
Even high-stakes political melodrama and attempted assassinations are analyzed through the lens of diplomatic platitudes. Nobody truly learns anything from this.
Turns out, even if you forget your own name, a court will still make you return the billions you swindled. Apparently, memory loss doesn't negate financial crimes.
Some biopics feel the urge to tell the whole, messy story. We argue they should just stop at the good times, like a perfect 1988 snapshot.
Sem declares King's Day to be the absolute pinnacle of pleasure, primarily because it guarantees an endless supply of lukewarm beverages.
In a stunning display of consumer enthusiasm, a Subway celebrated its anniversary by selling just two sandwiches. Apparently, the store needs only a single captive customer to justify its continued existence.
This record-breaking athlete reveals that basic running speed and forward momentum are far more crucial than hydration or cheering family. apparently.
Forget the usual flea market hustle; this year, your money-making booth involves selling questionable gas at a slightly inflated price. Apparently, you can buy free beer for the rest of the year!
Apparently, the scouting department believes Florentino Pérez is more obsolete than a gas station rest stop. We just hope they have enough gas for the fallout.
A wildly unsettling quiz asks you to distinguish between extreme death metal titles and the supposed search queries of a Homeland Security advisor. Apparently, they're both disturbingly similar.
The article muses on why modern political assassins lack the charming, Jodie Foster-pleasing desperation of the 1980s. Seems their motives are lacking... and their film knowledge even more.
Mom thinks the butterflies are sending peaceful messages from Grandpa; turns out they're Cold War-era hit lists from John McCain.
Apparently, dressing down with a blazer and T-shirt is the new uniform for self-declared artistic geniuses. Unfortunately, genius doesn't wash dishes or pay the rent.
The King's Arms figured out that instead of just brewing, they could sell niche merchandise to keep the regulars coming back. Genius, honestly.
Turns out, body-positivity role models have a very short expiration date when pharmaceuticals arrive. It’s all very transactional, darling.
The latest readings predict mundane career meltdowns, questionable friendship hygiene, and a deep dive into the meaninglessness of modern existence. Basically, bad news for everyone.
Apparently, the nation's political playbook includes a mandatory five-minute cooling-off period before criticizing historical figures. Some traditions never die!
Apparently, the cure for America's educational crisis involves a complete, top-down overhaul by former President Trump. One can only hope this revolutionary plan includes mandatory bubblegum breaks.
A politician is opening a new elementary school, but it was named after a sports betting company. How delightful.
Oh, look at our baby star! Apparently, the concussion protocol includes an aggressive language switch. We should probably get him a tiny baguette.
Apparently, verbal diplomacy is foolproof, until you forget that some world leaders also 'understood' flattening an entire nation state.
Apparently, Hugo Sánchez's secret life included patrolling streets and dealing with petty crime. The internet demands to know which side of his legend is true—soccer or squad car?
New local intelligence suggests that the rise in community trauma correlates directly with the desperation caused by needing a 'Prime Member' discount on bottled water or the failure to successfully liquidate ancient Bitcoin mines. The culprit is believed to be the combination of wealth displacement and substandard convenience store service.
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