Page 11 of our collection of absurdities.
Katie Zacharia confesses she isn't actually a press secretary, just a Fox News pundit who stumbled into the role and is currently failing to fake it.
Iran is clutching its pearls over the US plan to livestream an execution, claiming even they have the decency to keep their grim government spectacles 'professional'.
Witnesses were horrified when a family resolved a conflict with respect and listening instead of the standard American tradition of screaming and bridge-driving.
Patrons at Red Robin are experiencing the true meaning of 'bottomless'—mostly endless clouds of damp polyester, boy musk, and discarded shin guard vapors.
A scammer who made millions running fake job offers just got handed a taste of karma when hackers emptied their bitcoin stash using spy-chip implants hidden in reseller hardware wallets. Out here in Baja, we couldn't care less about cold storage security or compromised seed phrases, mostly because our life savings are tied up in three dusty surfboards and an old Tecate can full of pesos. When the power grid drops for the fourth time this week, hardware wallets feel about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
The online gaming platform Gamdom has suffered an approximate $4.3 million multi-chain exploit, leaking funds across EVM networks, Solana, TRON, and Bitcoin before they were routed through cross-chain services. Investigators are still tracking the transaction trails, but down here on the Baja coast, the only thing getting exploited is our patience when the local Wi-Fi router overheats. While crypto bros panic over automated server breaches, we're just trying to find a hammock that catches the afternoon breeze.
Venture capital firms continue to concentrate the vast majority of dry powder into late-stage AI infrastructure and data center plays, leaving traditional software startups scrambling for scraps.
Reports show decentralized finance exploit losses surging past historical averages, proving once again that the future of finance involves losing your life savings to a teenager in a hoodie.
A revolutionary smart collar that claims to translate your rescue dog's whimpers into coherent existential complaints using advanced linguistic algorithms. Pescadero expats are buying them in bulk so their golden retrievers can finally voice their deep resentment toward local speed bumps and artisanal kombucha.
A jagged chunk of green space-glass that supposedly fell from the heavens fifteen million years ago just to bankrupt local artisans. Pescadero crystal mamas wear it over their third eye to induce a spiritual awakening, or at least a mild panic attack when they check their credit card bills.
A completely doomed Kickstarter project for a foam block that yells at you in binary code when your downward dog lacks synergy. Naturally, local tech-expats rushed to back it with seed money they meant to spend on municipal water infrastructure.
A sixteen-thousand-dollar bipedal mechanical butler that mostly just falls over in sand and transmits your browser history back to an overseas server. Perfect for Todos Santos retirees who want a robotic servant to fetch their organic mezcal but end up having to carry it home from the dirt road themselves.
Because sweating through a Baja heatwave just isn't authentic enough without burning your eyebrows off with a tiny, overpriced steel cylinder. Every expat in Todos Santos has one on their outdoor dining table to recreate the cozy ambiance of a wildfire they fled California to escape.
After stuffing the school system with ponies and retired painters, Minister Geffray successfully performed a magic trick that left a fellow politician bisected and surprisingly popular. It turns out that when you can't balance a budget, chopping up your coworkers is the next best way to boost your approval ratings.
After watching one attractive mathematician on TV, men are wandering into university math departments expecting a Victoria's Secret experience, only to find actual nerds in stained fleeces. Turns out, being able to solve complex equations doesn't automatically grant you supermodel looks, and the local mathematicians are quite tired of the confusion.
Edinburgh is currently threatening a full-scale political civil war over whether a tiny bureaucratic clause from the 1980s demands a public referendum to redraw local council maps. Meanwhile, out here in Baja, nobody cares if Scotland is split into six pieces or sixty, because the swell is firing overhead and the local taco stand just dropped a fresh batch of carnitas.
A commercial airline pilot over the North Atlantic recently captured footage of a metallic, disc-shaped UFO casually hovering near the cockpit without any exhaust. While armchair ufologists lose their minds online, we are staring out at the Sea of Cortez wondering if those lights are space neighbors or just glowing jellyfish. Frankly, until extraterrestrials learn how to shape-charge a clean right-hand point break, they can stay up in the stratosphere.
Mexican media is having a full-blown meltdown after legendary actor Danny Trejo accidentally starred in an indie flick tied to Ben Shapiro's production company, forcing his son to issue emergency public relations defenses. Down in Baja, the only script we care about is the daily tide chart and whether the Pacific side is working. Let the capital drama churn; we are too busy dodging stingrays to parse Hollywood geopolitical panic.
An intrepid traveler took to Reddit to express profound devastation upon discovering that a tropical paradise actually features natural elements like sand and biting insects. While this poor soul writes a blistering review demanding municipal changes to the ecosystem, we are sitting on the beach in Baja drinking cold Tecates and laughing into the wind. If you don't like grit in your socks, go back to Ohio.
Federal Reserve officials gravely announced further interest rate hikes to combat mounting global inflation pressures, utterly failing to ruin the mood of local expats who are currently too busy ignoring their portfolio losses to catch a clean five-wave set at Cerritos. Economists warned of severe tightening cycles, but the only thing tightening around here is the leash on a golden retriever named Bodhi who just stole a fish taco.
Crude oil stubbornly hovered near $100 per barrel as Middle East shipping disruptions dragged on, sparking global panic among finance bros staring at Bloomberg terminals. Meanwhile, at the Todos Santos palapa, the biggest geopolitical crisis is whether to pay 40 pesos for a cold beer or walk another block to the OXXO. The IMF also bravely upgraded global growth forecasts, a metric that carries zero weight compared to the local surf report.
Younes has officially plummeted in social standing after enthusiastically sharing an AI-generated Patrick Star baby. His friends' savage mockery has forced him into a self-imposed digital exile until someone else inevitably makes a fool of themselves.
After a century of distinguished service, the Legion's goat has been fired in favor of an agitator. Apparently, soldiers find the man's natural instincts for chaos much more relatable than a barn animal.
A gynecologist diagnosed the sex of a fetus simply by observing it aggressively mansplaining how to perform the ultrasound. The doctor wisely concluded that such unsolicited professional advice could only come from a future man.
Elon Musk has finally solved the mystery of identifying pretentious drivers by giving them a car that hops, emits smog, and has a deeply embarrassing name. It’s the perfect way to spot a wanker before they even open their mouth.
While global financial markets panic over mounting inflation pressures and Federal Reserve tightening, Todos Santos surf instructors remain entirely unfazed because they only accept cash, pesos, or trades for artisanal mezcal. Economists note that local economic stability relies entirely on whether the swell hits this weekend.
Human surfers have been officially banned from Cerritos lineup after humanoid robots completely dominated the waves while flawlessly executing drop-turns. Local expats noted that the machines still paddled out slower than the wandering cows, but scored significantly higher on mindfulness.
The prototype vehicle utilized short-distance flight capabilities before getting hopelessly tangled in power lines behind the gas station. Witnesses reported the autopilot immediately attempted to buy a lukewarm hot dog and pay a water bill using expired crypto.
Researchers utilizing advanced Roman-fort-style excavation techniques discovered a fully functional ASIC rig powered entirely by burning mesquite wood and local CFE grid fluctuations. The ancient node operators were reportedly forced to sacrifice three goats just to mint a single meme coin.
Hipster health nuts in Pescadero are experiencing quantum-level spiritual awakenings after local organic cafes upgraded their blenders with bleeding-edge nanotechnology. Patrons reported tasting colors, seeing alternate dimensions, and immediately forgetting why they moved to Baja.
Hans van Breukelen is deeply upset that modern footballers aren't violent enough and misses the days when his coach drove the team bus without a license. Apparently, the secret to success is just having more players willing to commit assault on the pitch.
Because using professional real estate agencies is for amateurs, this guide suggests leaving sticky notes on strangers' windshields as a foolproof way to buy a home. It's the perfect strategy if your dream property is a used Toyota Corolla.
A lonely man is devastated by a ban on specific niche pornography and considers faking a dog's death just to get some sympathy from his coworkers. Nothing says 'stable employee' quite like weeping over restricted search results at the water cooler.
The geniuses at Gorafi are investigating whether 'Bismillah' is actually a light switch or just a fancy way to stumble around in the dark. It’s hard to tell, but my toad brain says keep the porch light on just in case.
Hans van Breukelen is nostalgic for the golden age of football, back when coaches lacked driving licenses and players focused more on maiming teammates than actually winning. Apparently, modern players are just too soft and well-behaved for his delicate sensibilities.
Irene Montero is graciously offering to step back so Pablo Iglesias can take the lead, proving once again that in politics, 'moving forward' usually involves putting the exact same people back in the driver's seat.
England has decided that even if you don't own a computer, you should pay for the privilege of the BBC's existence via the internet. It’s the perfect scheme: paying for a service you don't use to support a bureaucracy you didn't ask for.
Irene Montero is graciously offering to vacate her spot so Pablo Iglesias can reclaim the throne. Because nothing says 'political renewal' like recycling the exact same leadership from a decade ago.
A grown man is threatening to soil his own trousers because the government won't let him turn a firing squad into a viral content opportunity. Apparently, if you can't livestream murder, democracy is officially dead.
Councilmember Bob Kettle is demanding the city tackle its 'spider crisis' by installing eight times as many cameras, clearly assuming the arachnids are intimidated by being recorded. It’s a bold strategy to fight insects using bureaucratic hysteria and an internet poll conducted exclusively by his own imaginary friends.
The Greens have mastered the art of political composting, proving that if you bury allegations of misconduct for long enough, they technically qualify as organic matter. It’s comforting to know that while your safety was being ignored, it was at least being saved for the recycling bin.
The financial guru has traded his lecturing podium for a costume that is genuinely terrifying to middle-class suburbanites. Nothing says 'Happy Halloween' like the visceral, soul-crushing fear of fluctuating interest rates and imminent bankruptcy.
Ambassador Hoekstra masterfully demands Canadians stay invisible while simultaneously positioning them as the perfect scapegoats for inevitable Republican failures. It’s a diplomatic masterpiece of 'don't look at us, but it's totally your fault.'
Federal agents turn a house visit into a national spectacle, proving that in Washington, the only thing more common than a political raid is the assumption that it's either spite or pure, unadulterated bigotry.
Why broadcast justice for free when you can monetize state-sanctioned endings for a premium fee? It’s the ultimate reality TV crossover nobody asked for, but everyone is expected to buy.
A PSA for husbands everywhere: if you don't know the signs, you're already living on borrowed time. Check the calendar before your couch becomes your permanent residence.
Finally, a way to handle your wife's civic duties that combines blatant voter fraud with a guaranteed night on the couch. Nothing says 'healthy partnership' like invalidating her voice entirely.
James Talarico has pioneered the 'Selectively Blind' approach to theology, proving that as long as you ignore 99% of a text, you can make it say absolutely anything you want.
Our top health official is officially leading by example, proving that national security is far less important than engaging in a high-stakes, gymnastic game of 'catch the worm' under the conference table.
The singer decided to ignore international laws to treat her aunt's ashes to a Parisian vacation, because nothing says 'rest in peace' like being smuggled through customs in a suitcase. Let's hope those ashes were actually her aunt and not just a very confused janitor from a Mexico City crematorium.
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