Page 39 of our collection of absurdities.
Ben Cho is single-handedly saving the internet by tirelessly commenting on NYC politics from halfway across the world, blissfully unaware that his 'quirky' sense of humor is just a cry for professional help.
Generous citizens are finally doing the Lord’s work by crowdfunding a few extra square inches of fabric for poor, exposed Hollywood starlets. Clearly, this is the most pressing economic crisis facing our great nation.
Who needs objective journalism when you can have Stephen Miller wearing a suspicious fake mustache and a handful of podcasters desperate for a retweet? It’s a bold new era of 'truth' where the only criteria for entry is blind, sycophantic devotion.
In a shock to absolutely no one with working taste buds, experts have concluded that Chili's suffers from a bad reputation primarily because it serves mediocre slop. Finally, some investigative journalism that really resonates with the soul.
Vish Patel spent his afternoon curating the perfect profile picture to ensure every passenger wonders if they're stepping into a ride or a horror movie. It takes a true visionary to prioritize terrifying the clientele over actual navigation.
In a shocking turn of events, a government official intends to actually collect taxes, much to the dismay of people who prefer keeping their money. It seems the new Chancellor is treating the public treasury like a personal piggy bank—and he’s ready to smash it.
Bram has finally found a revolutionary fat burner that incinerates his wallet rather than his waistline. It turns out the only thing thinning rapidly is his bank account balance while he enjoys his daily cheeseburgers.
The Obamas lost their Portuguese water dog, prompting the public to pivot immediately to the only thing that matters: speculating if the pup's passing complicates their 2028 presidential ticket. Apparently, the dog was just a filler episode in the ongoing Obama political drama.
An enterprising MEV bot nicknamed "Yoink" outmaneuvered an attacker by paying a hefty gas bribe to jump the queue, successfully swiping 2,900 rsETH right out from under a botched Safe wallet exploit. Down here in Todos Santos, we watched a pelican dive-bomb an empty beer can with the exact same level of aggressive, misguided precision. Nobody in the palapa cares about Uniswap v4 hooks when the Pacific is glassing off at sunset and the Tecate is cold.
Prediction markets have cratered the odds of major crypto legislation passing this year as political hurdles pile up in Washington. Meanwhile, down on the Malecón in La Paz, the local expats are too busy arguing over fish taco prices and dodging potholes to notice that their speculative digital utopia is stalled again. Frankly, the only thing more volatile than a Senate vote is trying to predict when the town water truck will actually show up.
Another glorious week where a bunch of over-caffeinated tech barons realized they built digital panopticons and immediately tried to pull the ladder up behind them. Anthropic, OpenAI, Google, and Elon Musk’s AI venture got slapped with a federal antitrust lawsuit for supposedly conspiring to slow down AI development under the guise of 'safety.' Meanwhile, the surf down here in Todos Santos is firing overhead, absolute glass, and not a single soul on the beach gives a single solitary peso if Sam Altman gets sued for trying to patent the apocalypse. Keep crying over your sub-nanometer chips, Silicon Valley—the only network congestion we care about is the taco truck line on Calle Juárez.
A thousand-dollar plastic wind machine that blows lukewarm humidity directly into your face while electricity flickers out across Todos Santos. Expats view it as an essential status symbol for surviving a three-minute walk from their plunge pools to the margarita blender.
Five milliliters of ground-up mystery fauna guaranteed to clear negative energy and reverse local curses for a mere forty bucks plus international shipping. Pescadero spiritualists sprinkle it around their organic lime groves to ward off evil spirits and low-tipping tourists.
A wildly overfunded crowdfunding disaster that promises to listen to your existential dread with artificial empathy and zero practical application. Every tech-bro nomad in Baja has backed three units to keep them company while they ghost their landlords.
A four-foot bipedal mechanical marvel capable of stumbling through sand and falling over backward into your expensive tequila collection. Local retirement community expats bought entire crates of them just to have someone else take out the compost bin.
A sophisticated head-mounted gadget that decodes your rescue dog's barks into entitled demands for shade and organic ribeye. Beach expats wear them religiously to prove to locals that their rescue mutt is spiritually enlightened.
The U.S. Federal Reserve raised interest rates in response to persistent inflation driven by Middle East energy shocks, sending Wall Street into a panic. Meanwhile, Todd from Seattle stared blankly at a terminal screen before paddling out into overhead sets at Cerritos. Nobody on the beach could be bothered to care about basis points while the rights were peeling this clean.
The Bank of Japan raised its benchmark interest rate to 1.25 percent, hitting a 31-year high alongside simultaneous European Central Bank hikes over eurozone energy inflation. Back in Todos Santos, retired accountants sipping $3 Tecates confirmed that global economic ruin looks significantly less pressing from a hammock. Local sources noted that currency devaluation is much easier to digest with fresh fish tacos.
Ben Cho is absolutely convinced that commenting 'That's my Mayor' on a New York politician's posts from his couch in Australia constitutes peak intellectual comedy. His friends are concerned, but Ben remains busy patrolling the internet to ensure everyone knows he understands geography.
Australian doctors are breathing a sigh of relief that AFL fans didn't collectively expire during the finals, though they remain terrified of the upcoming Kylie Minogue performance. Apparently, sweating over a sports game is now considered a legitimate threat to national public health.
Silicon Valley engineers watched in horror as a fleet of humanoid surf bots suffered catastrophic water damage after attempting to drop in on local wandering cows at Cerritos. Organizers noted the event was further delayed because all the robots immediately abandoned the heat to queue up at the OXXO for questionable hot dogs.
Local data centers running on sputtering backup generators have completely corrupted the cloud backups of thousands of life-coaching journals. Spiritual expats in Todos Santos are now forced to remember their own childhood traumas without the convenience of a synced PDF.
Following a breakthrough in synthetic biology, local wellness entrepreneurs wasted no time dumping the experimental compound straight into the morning green smoothies. Regular patrons reported achieving ego death before even making it past the dusty speed bump on Highway 19.
The revolutionary $199 biometric toilet seat has been retrofitted to a local organic coffee shop's notoriously slow septic system. The device immediately sounds a deafening alarm and locks the stall door whenever a remote worker tries to stream a 4K Zoom call over local satellite internet.
As central banks grapple with global energy shocks and persistent inflation, local surfers in Pescadero have completely solved the macroeconomic crisis by simply refusing to check their banking apps. Experts report that as long as Pacificos stay under 50 pesos, nobody on the beach cares about monetary policy.
A man’s peaceful, fart-filled solo concert in his Toyota Camry is rudely interrupted by the realization that someone else actually exists in the world. He remains convinced that his car-dwelling neighbor is a hooded pervert, conveniently ignoring the fact that he was serenading Tarzan soundtrack hits to an empty parking lot.
Apparently, having two pennies to rub together in the UK is now a capital offense. I suggest all the millionaires move to Todos Santos; the mud is free, and we don't tax your ambition, just your flies.
It’s a comfort to know that while the world burns, scientists are busy tackling the really hard-hitting questions about Chris Robinson's radio rotation. I’ve been croaking for years that if it sounds like a mid-life crisis, it’s classic rock.
King Charles is looking to trim a few necks—literally—to handle the inconvenient truth-tellers in the family. Nothing says 'divine right to rule' quite like a freshly sharpened blade for the relatives who talk too much.
Mark Carney insists his aptly named legislation is just a coincidence, much like a wolf promising he won't eat the sheep while holding a fork and knife. It's truly comforting to know the government's 'Strike Destroyer' is strictly for decorative, non-destructive purposes.
Fresh from selling out Guadalajara, these indie rockers are bringing their 'intense' nostalgia to Mexico City. Don't worry, the concert starts early enough that you can still be in bed by 8:00 PM to mourn your lost youth in peace.
In a bold move to improve grip and likely suffer a stomach pump, a pitcher decides that the bag of rosin is actually a gourmet snack. Who needs protein shakes when you can just consume industrial-grade adhesive?
In a refreshing turn of honesty, Democrats have pivoted from giving away money to finally admitting where it all ends up. It’s the first time in history that a campaign promise is both accurate and guaranteed to be kept.
A firm that teaches companies how to avoid phishing scams got thoroughly phished by a North Korean hacker they hired as an engineer. They even sent him a shiny new MacBook to help him break into their systems, which is truly top-tier workplace irony.
The legendary mutant is struggling to handle bad game reviews, proving that even claws can’t slash through the sting of a one-star rating. He’s now looking into a patch that heals his feelings, because apparently, his mutant ability doesn’t cover crushing disappointment.
A father is ready to resort to self-surgery with a cereal spoon just to escape the relentless joy of a toddler discovering a children's television franchise. Parenthood: the only job where you consider irreversible brain trauma just to get five minutes of silence from a man in orange glasses.
Congress isn't taking any chances and decided to throw a state funeral for Mitch McConnell while he's still technically vertical. It’s the ultimate bureaucratic efficiency—handling the exit paperwork before the actual exit happens.
The Israelites have finally traded manna for the real holy grail: a never-ending flow of sugary, caffeinated fall vibes. It’s truly a miracle, assuming you ignore the inevitable 40-year sugar crash that follows.
Nothing screams 'totally normal wedding' like having a Russian oligarch pick up the tab for the after-party. It's heartwarming to see international influence-peddling reach such festive, champagne-soaked heights.
Desperate to fix the Mexican National Team's woes, Rafa Márquez is considering the bold strategy of coaching while wearing cleats. Apparently, the only thing missing from the squad is a retired legend who can survive a full twenty minutes without needing an industrial-sized bag of ice.
Ed Sheeran tried to keep his feed neutral but lost 200,000 followers for daring to disagree with Macklemore's stage banter. Apparently, in the world of pop stars, keeping your mouth shut is the only way to keep your fan count up.
Mexican producers are scrubbing Aleks Syntek from film history faster than he can lecture a teenager about reggaeton. If you want to watch a classic without the soundtrack of a grumpy boomer, you're in luck.
Grand Theft Auto VI might finally let us commit virtual crimes while listening to our own embarrassing playlists. Now you can get chased by the cops while singing along to your secret pop-ballad favorites.
Yeri Mua turned the national flag into a DIY blanket for a photo shoot and might be paying a million-peso price tag for it. Nothing says 'patriotic celebration' quite like a potential 36-hour stint in a holding cell.
Matt Gaines learned the hard way that his body is about as flexible as a rusted garden gate. Who knew that attempting a single 'downward dog' could be a one-way ticket to the emergency room?
It seems being the only black juror in a high-profile case means you need an escape plan from the 'tolerance' of the local political class. Truly a sign of the times when you need a historical rescue route just to survive a verdict.
FIFA’s president has officially redefined mathematics, declaring that any tournament Messi wins automatically carries more weight than actual historic trophies. Apparently, the new criteria for football excellence now include how much confetti is used and how good the trophy looks in a group selfie.
After getting triggered by fans requesting actual good music, Aleks Syntek lectured the crowd on his superior education, only to be hit with a three-word reality check from reggaeton star Dani Flow. It seems Syntek’s future independence celebrations will be much quieter—and significantly less attended.
Movie theaters are scrambling to provide step-stools and rearview mirrors because the new Street Fighter popcorn buckets are essentially towering, edible hats that block everyone's view. It's a bold strategy: sell a snack that prevents you from actually watching the movie you paid for.
If your date owns a Coldplay record or unironically loves Iron Maiden, you aren't in a relationship, you're volunteering for a tragic comedy. It’s time to start checking record crates before you check your calendar for a second date.
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