Had a good night, this song fits.
i miss trimet. it was always on time.
Fun fact: This was taken while I was in high school. I am one of the 14 or so pushing that bus. They called us to school (brown building on the left), and then cancelled as soon as I got there. Having nothing better to do, and seeing a bunch of cars getting stuck going up Powell blvd, some other students and I spent a couple hours pushing cars up the street and out of the snow. I was wearing converse, and my feet were completely soaked through within five minutes. It was fun, and it was one of three times in high school where I wasn’t an ass.
Let this be your late night “where did all the memories go and were they ever there in the first place” mood music.
6 months of free High School SATANIC WORSHIP if you call within the next 15 minutes
There have been a recent slew of Onion-ish fake news sites, the exact web addressees of which I don’t feel deserve anyone’s attention. The sites are Onion-ish in that they have full page articles devoted to a story that isn’t true. That’s where the similarity begins and ends.
The onion is funny, VERY FUNNY at times. The fake news stories I’m addressing aren’t funny. Some aren’t funny from the sheer humor writing incapability that comes along when anyone can make an Onion knock-off website, and some from the fact that they’re not trying to be funny. I’m having my sights set for the latter in this diatribe.
When a fake news story gets put out on the internet, if it strikes a certain hot button issue or is properly sensationalist, it will get moved around the internet through people sharing it on social media sites. And people share it thinking it’s true. I spend enough time on social media to see these pop up, though I’m certain if you spend any time on social media one’s bound to cross your path. I’ll click on the link because I’m a sheep, I read the article, it may seem a little fishy but then again most sensationalist things are.
Later, I may see that the aforementioned news article was fake. What do I get from that revelation? A feeling of slight emptiness. Of being tricked. Congrats, you got me. You won…?
Mostly these fake news sites blatantly masquerade as onion knock-offs but without the part that tells you it’s obviously fake. These sites, it seems, exist mainly to get page views by taking the formula of the onion, getting rid of the humor, and injecting sensationalism. It’s cold, it serves no one but itself, doesn’t contribute anything to the world, and exists to subtly cram advertisements into your optic nerve.
From the fake news of the Onion, I get joy and fun commentary, from basic news I feel lied to. If the fake news IS TRYING TO BE FUNNY, then the joke they’re trying to make is “nothing is real on the internet!”. And that joke’s been done. It’s not really even a joke. It’s just a betrayal of expectations. It’s a prank. You know how well people take pranks from faceless web pages. The same way you’d take a prank of someone unplugging the water fountain so when you press the button nothing comes out. “Oh, I’ve been lied to. That’s mean. Cool.”
Not to say people don’t occasionally report the onion as news. It happens. But there’s SO MUCH ON THE ONION SCREAMING THAT IT ISN’T REAL that you’d have to be so biased towards the truth the article is purporting to ignore the signs, as is the case of 100% of the people who believe it’s true.
Also, “nothing is real on the internet!” is a novice game. How about do something with the false reality? The Onion uses it to make jarring political statements/commentary on the tepid depression of some existence/great jokes. Most art is a manipulation of false reality to reflect the reality we live in. These fake news sites, if they are trying to make any statement, are as garbage as putting up a blank canvas at an art showing. Or a stick figure drawing. It’s shallow, lazy, cynical, and a disappointing waste of everyone’s time. Why is it cynical? Because artistically it says “See, I know this isn’t real. Nothings real. The end.”
I feel depressed by the fake news sites, because it rewards an almost complete lack of conceptual creativity, it spreads disinformation for no end but itself, and it comes off as a cynical use of the false reality.
If, on the other hand, all the sites are trying to be dry and humorous, then I hope their writers get better. Everyone sucks at some point.
(Authors note: This entire story was read by a pizza box with a terrible italian accent.)
Hey, it’s a me, pizza box. I wish to share with you a tale of pleasure, love, and pizza.
Before we start, let me explain. I am a pizza box. Hello. I don’t read books or watch movies, and the only television show I have seen is one episode of Matlock, and I don’t remember most of it. But I loved it. So please, open your hearts to my erotic fan fiction of Matlock.
Matlock is driving his car. He is going fast. Is he catching a bad guy? You can never know with Matlock. But yes, he is. All of a sudden, Matlock gets a call on his car phone. He goes to answer it, but he cannot while driving. Why? Because Matlock is secretly a pizza box. No one knows. He uses a flawless human disguise, a pillowcase filled with bowling pins, drenched in milk, with a dominoes employee shirt, because who doesn’t make pizza?
The car phone won’t stop. Matlock pulls out a gun and shoots the bad guy, then pulls the car over and answers the phone. The voice says “Hello matlock, I am lonely and getting cold and I want to be inside of you and I have new pepperoni.” Oh, the pizza wife, am I right boxes?
“I am sorry, I just saved the city from crime, I will have to do it later.” “But Matlock! I have parmesean packets.” Matlock hangs up the phone, and goes to investigate who he stopped. A pizza thief. Good job. He calls the police, who give Matlock a bunch of money, he buys another cowboy hat, and then Matlock goes home and watches Matlock.
Later that evening, he climbs into bed and starts to fall asleep. He begins dreaming of strange things: a cow with a pencil? Haha, what? But then, the pizza wife enters the bedroom. She says “Oh, did you think you were going to bed already. No, I want a sex.” Matlock looks at her, she is not alone. With her is three more pizzas. Her sisters! Does she really want a family four deal? Okay, nothing is too much for Matlock!
The pizza wife positions herself at the front of Matlock like she was about to enter a sex oven. She wipes pepperoni grease on his lid as a piece of her sausage falls to the floor. Such a messy slut! She says, “Let me get my sausage. For now, start with some light pizzas. Margheritas come here.” Two shy 16” tomato basil pizza sisters slide onto the bed as the pizza wife goes onto the floor to recover her sausage.
The margheritas are scared, virginal. Matlock hates fear in pizza, he opens his lid and crams them into himself in one motion. Matlock’s lid expands like little cesars, which, didn’t you know, is one of the fastest growing pizza restaurants in the west coast, ask about franchising today. Inside Matlock, the margheritas are kept warm, and in sensual rapture. All of a sudden, his insides erupt with mozzarella. The Margheritas came already? Yes, Matlock is that good.
Matlock then looks to the third pizza sister. A vegan Pizza! A sexual fear for most, for Vegan pizzas cannot come, they have a no a cheese. Matlock spits out the Margheritas, who are blind from pleasure, and from being pizzas. Matlock takes the vegan pizza in his insides, and waits. All of a sudden, a gushing of cheese erupts from inside himself, and from his box emerges the changed, former vegan pizza. She is covered in the five different cheeses, and she says to Matlock, “Oh, I am no longer Vegan. But I do not care, I am real pizza!” Then she beheads a soy curl, for it is a false topping. Go matlock!
“Now I want to be inside of you,” says Pizza wife as she arises from the floor, fully sausaged. “But not by myself. Sisters, all in with me!”
All four of the pizzas jump into Matlock, the inside cheese combines with more lesbian cheese. In a matter of seconds all four of the pizzas burst Matlock’s lid, sending cheese spraying all around the room. The pizzas exit from his box and lay themselves on a table, satisfied.
“My turn” says Matlock as he slides onto the coffee table. Pizza wife reaches underneath the bed, pulls out two paper cups filled with cheap beer, a Redbox dvd of The Hangover part 3, and two week old edition of the portland mercury, and places them lovingly on matlock’s lid. Matlock comes.
And so ends a night of ferocious lovemaking by Matlock, the pizza wife, and the three sisters. But where are they now? The pizza sisters got into porn modeling for pizza hut, the pizza wife achieved her dream of getting eaten by dogs, and Matlock is a story. He is a story that lives inside the heart of every pizza box, bringing courage to defend pizza and stand up for life, liberty, and promotional coupons, he is a story that without, we would be nothing, and so we salute you, america, america, god shed his grace on thee, and crowned thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea. Thank you everyone, god bless!