Tired by a steady trickle of media coverage in which privileged white men are sometimes almost held accountable for their actions, the wealthy white business community is up in arms.
“That Manafort fellow was actually convicted for just normal stuff,” huffed Gregory Porpentine, a hedge fund manager. “Of course you use offshore accounts and shell companies to vacuum up as much money as you can. It’s the American way. I have half a mind to call my Senator. Or I can just talk to him when we play golf this weekend.”
Worried that tens of affluent businessmen might be inconvenienced by suggestions that they owe anything to society, or should feel shame for their actions, old white men everywhere are harrumphing in earnest.
“What the hell do we pay these politicians for?” groused Kevin Tumbasen. “I don’t want to see the State Attorney General bothering my broker, or my caddy, or my perfectly legitimate business partner Sergei. Why aren’t they out there rounding up colored people for misdemeanors?”
For some, the solution has been to purchase local media outlets, to provide a more pleasing news environment free from unwarranted facts. There has also been a movement to outlaw the serving of subpoenas in golf clubs and any domicile worth at least $1.5 million.
“There have to be limits, by God,” said Porpentine. “People won’t put up with this for long.”
Sick and tired of their natural habitat melting away while the world debates whether global warming is politically convenient, arctic fauna everywhere have apparently decided that if the ice floes vanish, they’re gonna goddamned take over further south.
“The little fuckers got organized,” said frantic Maine resident Jean Snow. “They got drill sergeants and banners and trumpets and little fucking axes. Bastards will take your kneecaps off if you let them!”
Biologists raised a collective eyebrow at the sight of organized hordes of heavily armed arctic waterfowl swamping outlying towns along the northern borders of Canada and the US, but said there’s little point in studying the phenomenon or doing anything about it.
“There’s no money for field research, and if there were, there are no policymakers interested in reading about research,” said Harvard biology professor Gunther Yott. “And frankly I’m rooting for the puffins.”
Observers speculate that early reports of individual, starving polar bears and seals and whatnot were actually part of a deliberately staged intelligence gathering strategy. The polar bears now seen are wearing kevlar and carrying surface-to-air missiles.
When asked about the invasion, a White House representative scoffed at the notion that puffins are real.
“I wasn’t born yesterday,” sneered the staffer. “That’s a Photoshopped penguin if ever I saw one.”
On Friday the White House announced that the President approved a classified napkin which Congressman Devin Nunes insists represents “entire minutes” of deep investigation.
“This document really says it all,” said Nunes, who insisted that President Trump only approved the final version and did not, for example, write it for Nunes and then tell the Congressman to pretend the document was an independent report. “Anyone who has doubts about the integrity of Mueller and the Fake News Russia Investigation will find their suspicions confirmed by this report.”
Republicans hailed the document as a serious blow to the credibility of Mueller, the FBI, and anyone in the Justice Department who refuses to recite the special Trump Loyalty Oath in the morning during the newly mandated Trump Loyalty Minute.
“I don’t see how the Mueller investigation can recover from this incredibly damaging report,” said Fox and Friends host Brian Kilmeade, one of the most powerful advisors in the Cabinet.
The Wall Street Journal also called the napkin “concerning.” The fake news failing New York Times and Bezos propaganda rag Washington Post deferred from this assessment, saying the napkin had some “troubling logical holes.”
“We’re confident now that we can move on, and perhaps fire some investigators who ought not be investigating the President,” said Sarah Huckabee Sanders. “It’s about time that the correct truth came out.”
Thanksgiving is around the corner: the one time of year when you are expected to show up and share a meal with people in your extended family you can’t stand. The uncle who hasn’t taken off his MAGA hat since August 2016. The judgmental religious cousin who questions your life choices both explicitly and implicitly with virtually every word and gesture. Hell, even your mom wants you to explain the tax bill in ‘simple terms she can understand.’ So what’s a hungry millennial to do?
We’ve got you covered. Exhaustive research by the professionals at the Canard Press newsroom has come up with the following seven no-fail tips to help you get through the day.
Beer, if you start drinking on Monday.
Wine, but only in very large quantities.
Don’t go. Seriously. You can’t cook your own damn turkey and stuffing? They sell turkey, like, 12 months a year. It’s not like it’s some rare product only available in November. And who even likes turkey? It’s basically a big fucking chicken. Close your eyes, taste them both, and tell me if you can tell the difference.
On August 21, the nation donned cardboard mirrored specs, stared into the sky for a while at a celestial event, and said “meh.”
“The effects were boring,” said Trey Fasslow, angrily slurping some sort of caramel frappucin0. “Nothing even exploded. Frankly, I’m way beyond disappointed.”
The people at Quinnipiac, tired of surveying people about the daily flaming trainwrecks of the Trump administration, asked people what they thought about the eclipse instead. Spoiled by multimillion dollar spectacles from Marvel and Disney, survey respondents found that the sight of the moon blocking the sun was barely worth the trouble of skipping work.
“Whatever America paid for this, it was too much,” said Fasslow, throwing his half-drunk latte on a passerby in disgust. “It’s no wonder we have such a huge national debt.”
NASA denied paying anything for the eclipse. Naturally, an anonymous White House spokesman promised a “full investigation of those deceitful NASA eggheads.”
This reporter tried to come up with a dramatic conclusion, but like the eclipse, this story is vaguely disappointing and you are probably sorry you clicked on it.
“At least you didn’t need special glasses to read it,” said I.
One group, and one group only, was delighted to see white supremacists march on an American city in 2017 bearing Nazi flags: the roach population.
“This is great for us,” enthused Lars Creepington, a representative of the 1501st Roach Workers Union (Eastern NY). “Finally, there’s someone people can look down on more than us. It’s a PR dream come true.”
The roach population has long complained about a “serious PR problem” which they have blamed on a variety of conspiracy theories.
“Who wouldn’t want a friendly swarm of filth-eating insects gracing their home?” asked Creepington, staring at us with those weird-ass bug eyes and doing something unnerving with its antennae. “But people have always had it out for us for some reason. Now, they’re saying ‘at least our home isn’t infested with those goddamned Nazis who marched in Charlottesville.’ What a relief.”
It bears repeating that actual fucking Nazis marched on an American city, carrying literal goddamn swastikas and assault weapons; that they beat counter-protesters up, and killed and injured people by deliberately ramming a car into them, and that roaches did no such thing.
“If I have to choose between renting to a filthy, seething mound of disease-laden roaches wearing a trenchcoat in a futile attempt to appear human, and an actual fucking white supremacist nazi, I’m going with the mound of deceptive bugs,” said Ingrid Swanson, a landlady in Philadelphia.
On the issue of roaches versus racist nazis, President Trump issued a rambling statement indicating that “both sides are bad, but they’re both fighters, lemme tell ya.”
The Boy Scouts of America organization, facing outrage from current and former scouts following President Trump’s speech at the national Jamboree, is quietly investing enormous funds and effort into the rapid development of a time machine.
“Doesn’t have to be great, doesn’t have to include wifi, just has to get us back in time a little bit,” muttered a well-placed anonymous spokesman from the office of Boy Scouts of America. “Just a little goddamn bit.”
To the dismay of former scouts everywhere, the BSA has so far issued only a terse statement noting that the organization is “wholly non-partisan.” This has not been adequate for, well, anyone.
“I can’t think of a way to express my outrage,” said Irving Wensler, a former Eagle scout as far as you know. “Everything that can be said about this president has already been said. It’s quite depressing to spend time crafting a five-minute profanity-laden disparaging speech and then realize that someone at the Washington Post said the exact same thing a month ago.”
Although the secret BSA time travel research is not public yet, the known world is eagerly anticipating the results.
“Earn that damn ‘Fix History’ badge, boys,” said Wensler. “Earn that goddamn fucking badge.”
Encouraged by United Airlines’ recent PR success, McDonalds has announced a new customer service initiative nicknamed “BFYTW”, for “Because fuck you, that’s why.”
“The customer has never been right in our book,” said McDonald’s CEO Steve Easterbrook. “It’s the core of our business model. We express it in every way imaginable – the abysmal quality of the “food”, the dismal atmosphere, and the way we openly despise our own workforce. But United has shown us the crucial additional step of taking this message to the customer’s face.”
From now on, customers who order food at McDonald’s may or may not be allowed to finish their “meal” in peace. McDonald’s staff reserves the right to march up to the table and remove customers by force at any time.
“If we’re feeling playful we’ll call the local police to give us a hand,” said Easterbrook. “But I like the idea of giving our employees a rewarding physical outlet for their frustrations with life as a McDonald’s employee.”
A new line of commercials is currently in preparation in which Ronald McDonald will get real and cut a bitch.
“I think this is what Americans want,” said Easterbrook.
Millions of Americans have come to the shocking realization that there are almost 35,000 hours remaining in the Trump administration, but Netflix has fewer than 33,000 hours of content.
“Sweet Jesus, what am I going to do?” said Randy Spencer, a Netflix subscriber who did the math during the opening credits of Lost in Space. “That’s 2,000 hours of Trump’s time in office I have to consciously endure! I’m not sure I can handle more than 40 or 50!”
Spencer, like many Americans, is grimly resigned to the fact that the Republican-controlled Congress finds the current President so useful that it would not impeach the man even were he to fatally stab the French Prime Minister on live TV while simultaneously burning the original Declaration of Independence and verbally espousing pedophilia. Consequently, the Netflix addict has resigned himself to immersing his head in a digital hole until Trump’s term of office is over.
“Maybe if I send Netflix more money they’ll develop more original content,” Spencer said with just a hint of desperation in his voice. “Really, I’m not picky.”
Hector Garcia, a tax attorney from Des Moines, could really use a goddamn win right about now.
“First they elected a racist demagogue asshole to the White House,” said Garcia. “The next day, my car battery died. Then a coworker told me to ‘go home to Mexico’ even though I was born in Indianapolis. Then I got a really bad paper cut.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m trying to stay positive, man, but that paper cut really hurt.”
Garcia’s rising tide of incessant despair reached a crescendo Friday when his favorite lunch spot screwed up his burger order, despite the fact that Garcia has been a regular at the place for six years.
“That burger is like the best part of my week these days,” he said sadly. “It’s the only good thing remaining in my life. Those jerks know I’m allergic to tomatoes. There’s both ketchup and tomatoes on this. Could this year get any worse?”
Garcia, like many people, has taken to reading the news only in short bursts, reinforced with Xanax and a box of kittens he keeps around specifically to offset the negativity of world events.
“Ketchup and tomatoes both, man,” he repeated in a desolate monotone. “Ketchup and tomatoes both.”