Gene Laughton – The Canard Press

“There’s Nothing Sadder Than a Broken Ornament,” Says Woman With No Perspective

Broken ornament

Kaylee Whitehead philosophically pondered the glittering, fragile shards of a shattered Christmas tree ornament, ruefully commenting on how this is the saddest thing she’s seen all year.

“The ornament just encapsulates so much about the holiday, about optimism and the Christmas spirit,” she said with a world-weary chuckle. “My family has treasured this orb since I bought it at Hallmark in 2018, so it’s kind of a family heirloom as well,” she added, choking back a sob.

Kaylee made sure to document the sad, accidental demise of the delicate sphere in a thoughtful Facebook post, in which she shared her grief for the mishap and all it represents, and asked for the community to all come together to rise above the tragedy. At press time, the post had twenty three likes and at least three comments with the “prayer hands” emoji.

“Your thoughts and prayers are SO HEARTWARMING,” she wrote in her post. “I know that I’m not alone in experiencing loss this holiday season, and my own thoughts go out to everyone whose home has been hit by similar events.”

The ornament was apparently knocked from the tree by Captain Huffle, the family Airdale, during an overly enthusiastic romp with the family toddler, Brad.

“Captain Huffle didn’t mean to do it, obviously, but the whole symmetry of the tree’s decorations was thrown out of whack. And who knows what further havoc he might wreak,” sighed Kaylee. “I think we might just have to shoot the fucker.”

I’m Sorry, Tests Show You Are Not 19 Crows In A Trenchcoat

I regret to inform you that your CORVID-19 test came back negative once again. As this is the fifth time you have insisted we test you, and your interactions with our lab technicians have become increasingly strident and profanity-laden, allow me to explain in more detail precisely why you are not a stack of clever crows pretending to be a human being using a long coat and the gullibility of strangers.

TOOL USE: As you know, crows are among the few animals in the world able to successfully use tools. We saw your Instagram posts about your home improvement “bookshelf” project from May. It’s pretty clear you don’t know which end of the hammer to hold and that the final product is statistically certain to kill someone. The fact that three people liked the posts does not constitute a validation of your carpentry skills, especially as we are pretty sure one of the likes is from your mother.

FLIGHT: Your insistence that Delta’s passenger policies are “unreasonable” does not change the fact that you have not flown anywhere for at least twelve months, like everyone else. Possession of a travel pillow, a face mask, and a 1-oz. bag of pretzels does not constitute “proof of flight.”

FACIAL RECOGNITION: Crows are also known for their unerring ability to remember faces. During our test you repeatedly mistook Lady Gaga for Prime Minister Boris Johnson. It also appears that you have failed to recognize the fact that our clinic has only one receptionist, as you have told her on three separate occasions that “the other receptionist” said it was okay if you came in without making an appointment. For the record, it is not okay for you to come in without an appointment. Actual crows know this.

PLUMAGE: Crows have black feathers. While we appreciate the many links you have sent us from the Federalist and American Thinker, I must nonetheless point out the fact that crows are black in color is simply an empirical observation and not a question of affirmative action “using up all the good spots.” Plus, we didn’t believe you when you said “black lives matter” during your fourth visit because you didn’t seem to believe it yourself.

FAMILY ORIENTED: As a group, Corvus brachyrhynchos enjoy strong family relationships, in which extended families of crows communicate, teach, and nurture each other. Over the course of your five visits to our clinic, you left behind at least one child three times; on the third occurrence, you pretended when we called you that we had the wrong number by simulating a Spanish accent. For the record, the accent was pretty good, but it did not actually fool us.

While there are indeed many advantages to being a collection of wily birds, including a lack of eligibility for jury duty and the ability to freely head to Canada whenever they want, I must categorically affirm that you are not, nor have you ever been, a stack of clever crows. It is worth pointing out in any event that crows simulate a human appearance in this manner for no more than five minutes at a time, or the length of a typical Heckel and Jeckel animated short. Consequently I see no benefit to further CORVID-19 testing. Should you wish to test whether you are a pile of squirrels masquerading as a human, on the other hand, I can give you a referral.

Man Who Hates New She-Ra Show Finishes 58th Video Explaining Why

Art “Red” Hammond, a self-described ‘nearly professional reviewer,’ has just published the 58th video on his YouTube channel explaining why he doesn’t like the Netflix animated show “She-Ra and the Princesses of Power,” and why nobody should ever watch the show.

“I have nothing in particular against the show,” he said, noting that his channel also had at least three videos critiquing The Force Awakens. “It’s just that its flaws are so obvious that every episode needed to be explained and ridiculed in minute detail. It’s basically what any pop-culture critic would have done.”

The popular Netflix show has been widely praised for its solid storytelling, messages of empowerment and empathy, and positive portrayals of LBGTQ characters.

“I have no problem with gay people,” insisted Red. “It’s really typical of social justice warriors to just assume I’m some kind of bigot. It’s not about that at all. All I’m saying is that Noelle Stevenson doesn’t understand how to build a convincing narrative, that her characters are implausible and don’t behave like they should, that the art style represents a real cultural decline in American animation, that She-Ra’s sword is implausibly large and would not be an effective weapon, that her flying unicorn Swift Wind has an insufficient wingspan to achieve any altitude, that the kingdom of Bright Moon would not rally around any princess, no matter what superpowers they possess, and that nobody wants to watch a show about gay people anyway. And they don’t even say they’re gay! That’s the pernicious part. You’ve gotta label that stuff.”

Although he was not alive when the first She-Ra show aired in the 1980s, Red insists that the “cultural impact” of the original has been significant and deserves a “spirited defense.”

“I’m just giving this show the same critical evaluation I would do for any other cartoon,” Red insisted. “They had a perfectly good fantasy property about rainbows and unicorns and magical princesses. Why’d they have to gay it up?”

British Lament Cultural Decline Following Battle of Hastings

To many in Great Britain, the uproar over Meghan Markle’s comings, goings, and indeed existence are no surprise; the country has, in the eyes of many, been ‘contaminated’ by outsiders for far too long. “Make Britain Great Again” founder Basil Carville claims that all of Britain’s problems can be traced to the arrival of undesirable immigrants.

“Really, I don’t mean to state the obvious, but it’s all the fault of the French,” sniffed Basil as he sternly looked at presumably Gallic undesirables walking down the street in broad daylight. “When that William chap came over in 1066, we should have known things were going to get sticky. Arrow in the eye or not, King Harold should definitely not have been so soft-hearted as to allow the Normans to just barge in here and screw things up with their soft cheeses and their wines and their slack Continental morality.”

“Harold,” growled Sir Henry Bobbington Wexler the Third, “was himself part of the problem.” Sir Henry, who runs “Make Britain *Really* Great Again,” contends that if it weren’t for the “goddamned Vikings” who were unwelcome arrivals along the British shores during the ninth century, everything would have been “right as rain” afterwards and Britain wouldn’t be dealing with Brexit or Megxit today.

“Screw the Vikings,” huffed Benedict Plumpington Ossifer the Ninth, co-founder of “Britain: It’s Not Just A Name You Ninnies.” “It was those damn Saxons who came over in the sixth and seventh centuries. Mark my word, those Germanic pretenders on the throne today wouldn’t be there if only the Saxons had kept to themselves. Windsor, my foot. I know a Saxe-Coburg when I see one.”

“Saxons! Pish tosh,” groused the Lady Annabelle Grazingstoke Beanenpole Persimmony, who isn’t part of any organization but keeps her doors locked at all times. “Everything went to hell when the Romans got here in 55 B.C. You can’t trust an Eye-talian. A swarthy people, and their cuisine is both garlicky and lascivious.”

The only thing that Britons agree upon is that it’s definitely all someone’s fault, and that whoever it is certainly isn’t British.

I’m Pretty Sure That Turkey Deserved It

Karma’s, like, a thing that ensures justice for all living things, not just humans, right? What goes around comes around. Oprah said so, and so did Gwyneth Paltrow, though Oprah said it better. So I’m pretty sure that this turkey whose carcass we carved up deserved everything it got.

I mean, I’m not sure what kinds of crimes a turkey might commit. Maybe it was a carjacker, or an attempted carjacker. I know turkeys can’t drive. Come on, that’s silly. But it could still, like, attempt to carjack someone. And an attempted crime is basically the same thing as a regular crime, right? I mean, if you try to rob a bank and don’t get any money, you’ll still be arrested. So I’m pretty sure that even though this bird probably didn’t accomplish all that much evil in its life, it must have tried all kinds of shady shit.

Or maybe it was a reincarnation thing. I know reincarnation isn’t in the Bible, but that’s just for people, right? It just makes sense that animals have a different thing going. Maybe it was some kind of serial killer tiger, or one of those birds that drops a rock on bald people’s heads because it thinks they’re a turtle, or maybe just a raccoon that was like a total asshole. You know what jerks those little trash pandas can be, don’t you? That seems more likely. The turkey itself may not have had much chance to commit any crimes while cooped up in a turkey farm, but it must have been paying for something serious in a past life.

I wonder if its ghost is watching me pick meat off these bones to save for that chili I’m gonna make Sunday. It’s probably judging me, because I’m crap at this and anyway the recipe comes off the back of a chili mix packet, and it’s not even name brand, it’s a Kroger brand mix. That’s right, bird, your ultimate fate is to be ineptly picked to bits so you can be dumped in a crock pot with supermarket brand chili spices and then people probably won’t eat it anyway.

Stupid turkey.

Turkey Trot Runners Just All Agree To Pretend They Ran

The Turkey Trot is a peculiarly American custom in which people choose a day notable for overeating to go on a five kilometer run. For residents of the town of Plemmons Ohio, this seeming contradiction led to a mutual truce and agreement to just pretend they all ran.

“I think the idea is to claim you’re working off the 4,000 calorie meal you eat,” said Hannah Jackson. “Running the Trot allows you to have that extra slice of pie, or plate of stuffing, or mac and cheese. Mmm. Mac and cheese.”

As the American holiday has – like most American holidays – spread to the days before and after, the idea of running on Thursday morning appeals less and less to people, however.

“We were off work Wednesday, and I’ve already been to one Friendsgiving and a party that featured holiday-themed Jell-O shots,” said Jackson. “I got out my running shoes Thanksgiving morning and just felt like barfing.”

The decision to not run was a spontaneous one, which gained traction as, when the starting bell rang, every runner lined up simply sighed and looked around to see who was going to start first.

“Usually, there’s that one guy who starts, and then everyone else feels guilty, so they grudgingly trot forth,” said Turkey Trot organizer Gavin MacDermott. “I guess that one guy slept in today.”

Race organizers eventually just passed out the medals for completing the race, as runners milled around long enough so they could reasonably claim to their families that they’d run.

“Still having the extra mac and cheese,” said Jackson. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Trump Surprised At How Haunted Washington Nationals Stadium Was

Ghost haunting the Washington Nationals stadium.

President Trump was astonished to learn that the Washington Nationals baseball stadium is heavily haunted.

“I heard all those boos, and I thought, what the hell’s going on?” said the president in a news conference about a completely unrelated subject. “There musta been a hell of a lot of ghosts there, I’ll tell you that.”

The president learned about the haunting from Fox News, which explained in a post-game analysis that the loud, sustained chorus of boos from the crowd of over 40,000 at the World Series game was not in response to the image of President Trump on the Jumbotron, as other fake news media outlets reported, but due to an excess of ghosts.

“It’s Halloween soon,” said Brian Kilmeade on Fox and Friends, the daily televised intelligence briefing for the president. “Ghosts get really excited around this time of year. It’s perfectly normal.” Also, Kilmeade reassured the president that nobody saw the ghosts because ghosts are invisible. “It’s just ghost science,” he said. Kilmeade put on a pair of glasses when he said this, to emphasize how scientific this information was.

Fox News experts are struggling a bit to explain why the ghosts started booing only when the president was announced, but the president was reportedly relieved to hear that actual, live Americans were not in fact expressing their vocal displeasure at him.

“We gotta do something about all these ghosts and crap,” he said. “I tell you, hold the next World Series at a Trump property, there won’t be any boos, believe me.”

I May Be Working the Thanksgiving Shift But I’m A Real Reporter Dammit

All right. It’s true that everyone with any seniority is home enjoying the holiday with their families. But I’m a real reporter too, dammit. And I’ll prove it with an awesome scoop that will be Pulitzer-ready.

I hear that holidays are when the government and big corporations tend to dump unflattering news, so I’m going through this pile of press releases with an eagle eye. I bet someone important was fired, like maybe Trump fired Nancy Pelosi. I bet he has no idea he can’t do that, and that if he tries, Fox News will find some pundit somewhere who thinks it’s legal, and the whole thing will go up to the Supreme Court.

Nothing good from the White House. Maybe Amazon did something nefarious, like set a warehouse on fire to motivate their workers! I bet that’s a thing Amazon would do. I have a reporter’s keen instincts: you can’t hide from me, Bezos!

I can’t find any press releases from Amazon either. All I’m seeing in this pile is stories about turkeys being adopted by families, or pardoned by local government officials, or deep-fried in dangerous ways. Maybe I’ll try some reporting from the street! I’m just gonna print myself a big pass that says “press” and stick it in my hatband. I’m also going to find a hat with a hatband so I can do that.

It’s taken me most of the day to find an appropriate hat, and now I’ve been walking the streets for hours. The only people out here are runners doing various Turkey Trots and they’re all moving so fast they don’t have time to talk to me. I haven’t run anywhere since gym class in the sixth grade, so I’m sure not going to catch any of them.

There’s a raccoon over here in a dumpster behind a Popeye’s Chicken. Maybe I can turn this into a feel-good story? Some kind of puff piece about Thanksgiving being a universal holiday that encompasses the natural world as well? A chicken is kind of turkey-sized relative to a raccoon. Maybe I can Photoshop a little pilgrim hat on the guy. (Note to self: Learn how to use Photoshop.)

I have no idea why the editor keeps assigning me to these lame holidays. Believe me: if I got to write a story on a weekday, it would be sensational.

Oops! Where Did All These Tacos Come From?

Hey. How did I end up in this reasonably priced Mexican restaurant? Well, I guess I could eat. What a funny coincidence!

Whoa, where did all these tacos come from? The Plata Gigantica? Looks like something I’d order! If you say I ordered a plate of fifteen tacos, I would have to agree with you that this sounds very consistent with my pattern of behavior thus far in my life. I don’t remember doing it, but the facts speak for themselves, don’t they! Don’t want to let those tacos get cold!

Margarita? Is that mine? I mean, I am due back at the office by one, but hey! – maybe a little tequila would make the sales meeting go a lot smoother, am I right? Wow, that went quick. I still have all these tacos to finish and nothing left to drink! Better get another one, just to keep things balanced.

Uh oh. Looks like the tacos are gone, and I still have half a margarita left! Can’t just chug the rest down. People would think I have a drinking problem! But it’s all right to drink with a meal. Let’s have some taquitos, I guess, and maybe a burrito just to round things out.

A fourth margarita? When did I have the third? Looks like Marty in Sales is gonna have to wait a little. It would be rude to refuse my kind hosts after they went to all the trouble of making this for me. It takes skill to salt the rim of a glass, you know! That’s craftsmanship! Artisanal bartending!

Wow. What time is it? I guess I’ve been here a while. You’ve gotta work your way through a pitcher slowly. Can’t drink a half gallon of Dos Equis straight down like that. It’s bad for your digestion!

Dinnertime already? Sure, I could eat.

White Men Tired Of Occasionally Being Held Accountable For Their Actions

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.”

“That’s for damn sure,” muttered the waiter.