Tag Archives: satire

The stunning, final Brexit conversation finally revealed

Transcripts recovered from an anonymous source last week have allowed us to finally discover what happened in that fateful breakfast meeting several weeks ago.

While most of us thought the UK and EU made a slightly awkward, if charming pair, no one ever expected the fledgling romance to end in such dramatic fashion.

The conversation can be found below, without commentary. We hope that you will find it as illuminating as we have; in a time so momentous, there is no need for us to colour the events – we will allow you to experience them as they happened.


UK: “I thought, when you said you were cool with us keeping our bank accounts separate, that it meant you really were cool with us being like that, you know? Like, we were going to be together, but still be ourselves, right?”

EU: “I was cool with it, I am, but… I mean… I don’t want to be just ourselves.

UK: “What do you mean?”

EU: “I just… sometimes… it feels like you don’t even want to be with me at all.”

*loud sigh*

UK: “It’s not… It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, it’s just… I want to still be myself, you know? It’s like people look at our relationship, and they just see EU, EU, what’s going on with the EU, Euro-this, Euro-that… and then there’s Angela – ”

EU: “You like Angela!”

UK: “I do. I do. It’s not about her. You’re right. I just… I think we need to… What do you say we, just for a bit, now… that we…

*charged silence*

EU: “Just say it, Ukie! Stop being a coward! Do you want to be with me or no?!”

UK: “I do! But… I don’t! I feel torn, okay?! It’s like half of me wants to stay, and the other half wants to go…”

EU: “Sounds like you need to decide which half of you is the real you. Which half do you want to be, Ukie?”

UK: “I… want to…”

EU: “Yes..?”

UK: “I… want to be on my own for awhile. I just want to try things out! I’ll stay on Boris’ couch for awhile, I already checked with him, it’s cool, he’s… I just… I need to do this. For me. I’m leaving, EU.”

*choked sobs*

UK: “No.. please don’t… cry…”

EU: “No! You know what? You’re not leaving me, you’re – I don’t want you! Get outta here! See how well you do Out There!”

UK: “It’s not – we don’t need to be like that – I mean, we have all the same friends, it’s going to be really awkward if we – ”



The transcript then ends with a few minutes of breaking dishes and shouting.

Thus, what was meant to be a run-of-the-mill, delightful brunch date highlighted by simply scrumptious eggs benedict became the calamity we now refer to alternatively as Brexit, Breakxit, or Breggsxit. We will keep you up to date with any further news.

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Church of Mammon Membership Explodes with Trump Successes

Screen Shot 2016-03-05 at 11.42.36 PM.png

In the United States, Church of Mammon membership is hitting record highs with the recent political successes of Donald Trump.

“It’s fantastic, really. Some people are even saying it’s ‘unprecedented’,” said one newly-minted Church of Mammon member, Dorothy Arnolds. “We’ve been playing ourselves off as Christians for so many years, but here comes Donald Trump, and finally – finally! – we can show our true colors!”

“Make America Great Forever!” she chanted, as we sauntered off to write this article.

The Church of Mammon was founded over 2,000 years ago by a rich young man who, after an encounter with Jesus of Nazareth, decided that a life of following God and the potential sacrifices which may ensue was simply too difficult and uncomfortable to pursue, despite the promise of love and fellowship with the Father, the purported Home of human hearts. This ambitious young man went on to promote the pursuit of riches, though his movement met with continued intellectual conflict with the newly forming Christian community.

Famously, it was Jesus Christ himself who said, “You can serve only one master, either God, or Mammon,” implying that the true followers of God could not logically or rationally also follow Mammon, a symbol for the worship of wealth or possessions.

Nowadays, however, the followers of Mammon seem to have finally found their champion, and recent reports show that they are leaving the church of Jesus in droves.

Mammon, known across the ancient world as the scion of finance and material wealth, has found a modern fleshly companion in the form of Donald Trump. Critical to Mr. Trump’s electoral chances are the millions of former evangelical Christians in the United States who have left the religion of Jesus of Nazareth, famous for his denunciation of wealth and privilege, and joined Trump’s movement, notable for its lack of knowledge of biblical principles and, crucially, knowledge of even a single Bible verse.

“All that Jesus mumbo-jumbo was nice for awhile, right, when it was bringing in votes and all that,” said Mitch McConnell, an ardent Trump supporter and actual elected Congressman. “But now we’ve got a bunch of immigrants, and foreigners, and all that, we don’t have time for all that Sunday school crap! We need somebody who’s gonna throw some punches!”

Trump himself was exultant in the recent societal movement. “You know, I couldn’t tell you a single Bible verse. But I love the Bible. I do. It’s the Bible. I love the Bible. How can we not love the Bible? You know who doesn’t love it? Immigrants. And Ted Cruz. And that Rubio kid. They’re both immigrants anyway. And other people who don’t love the Bible are people who don’t love Donald Trump. I’m Donald Trump!”

A groundswell of support to name the Trump as the official Prophet of Mammon is quickly gaining momentum. We’ll update you with the latest in the days to follow.

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Man flies across world to confess love, quickly runs out of other things to talk about

plane at sunset by marengo

As we mill about in the arrival terminal of LAX, a pitiful looking man is doing his best to drum up something to talk about with a woman standing nearby.

‘So…are you… do you like Tuesdays?’ he is very literally asking. ‘Or maybe you’re more of a Wednesday person..?

Here’s what’s going on.

Inspired by recent rom-com mega hit Nights on the South China Sea, one Hong Kong resident realised with a start that true love had been ‘right under his nose this whole time’.

With his heart aflame, Cecil Winston bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, the home of the woman he now knows is his ‘kindred soul-spark’.

We caught up with Cecil in Tokyo, where he was waiting through a grueling eleven-hour layover. ‘No worries, though,’ he confided in us. ‘Once something like this happens to you, you’ll do anything.’

What’s this, we ask?

‘True love, mate,’ he replied. ‘It’s like, everything about this girl – I mean, she’s gorgeous, she’s just.. there’s that thing she does when she’s talking, then how she ties her shoes – mate, she’s everything.’ His eyes were lit like fireflies on a peaceful summer night, or stars whispering over the sea so as not to wake the sleeping moon.

‘I just can’t believe I missed her this whole time.’

When asked what exactly it was that set the dry tinder of his affection ablaze, he mentioned a scene about butterflies he’d seen in the movie. ‘So there were the butterflies, right, then there was the time we saw the butterflies in that advert together, in the MTR, before she left town, and then there were the butterflies in my stomach, and I just knew.’

Before we could stop him, he started talking again. ‘I’ve always loved butterflies, their wings and colours and all that. Now I’m thinking – no, now I know – all that, it was all just a precursor to her. All the butterflies and sunsets and flowers and everything I ever thought was beautiful – it was all just a preview of this, how I’d someday feel for her.

‘She’s my butterfly-sunset-flower.’ As we pondered having actually heard that comment aloud, Cecil started up his media system, quickly flicking to the Romance Movies section. Meanwhile, we drifted off to sleep, and, mercifully, didn’t wake till landing.

We walked together to Arrivals at Cecil’s behest, that he may tell us more about the love of his heart, and what she may do when she sees him. ‘I bet she just cries. I mean, I’ll be crying. I bet bystanders will get misty. Airports, right??’

The moment approached. As we rounded the bend, Cecil’s eyes went watery, and he whispered, ‘There she is.’ A woman stood on the front edge of the welcome crowd. When she saw us, she waved. Cecil’s walk slowed to nearly a crawl, like he was dragging his feet through shallow, and deepening, quicksand.

Finally, we were there.

‘Hey,’ she said.

“Sheila-I-love-you.’ Cecil breathed out.

‘What?’ replied the woman, looking the slightest bit shocked.

‘You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of and we’re perfect for each other and I love you.’

‘I… you texted me that you were… what? I thought you were just….’

‘No, no layover. I just needed to tell you. I. Love. You.’


The silence was substantial, and we were running late, but at this point, we had to see how things would turn out.

‘Cecil, I’m pretty sure we hung out, like, one time.’

‘It was enough.’

‘Do you… do you even know my last name?’

‘Did the Greeks know the name of Aphrodite? The Romans of Venus? Of course I – ‘

Cecil blanched.

The girl sighed.

‘You’re my sunset-butterflower,’ Cecil told her.

‘What?? What the – listen, Cecil, I was thinking we’d just grab a coffee… the traffic was crazy, just so you know… but… this is a bit weird.’

‘Give me five minutes. Five minutes to win your heart.’ Cecil told her, determination evident in his voice. ‘I know this is meant to be.’

‘I…. okay.’

Cecil smiled.

Then blanched again.

‘So…are you… do you like Tuesdays?’

Four minutes of the most excruciating awkwardness we have ever experienced then followed. At one point Cecil was discussing the rules of rugby, which was followed by a description of his Ultimate Team in FIFA, after which he asked after her pet dog, who Sheila said was actually a cat who had recently been run over by a car. Cecil responded to this unfortunate news with a vague description of the impact of the airplane food on his bowels.

After this torture, Cecil looked at his watch. ‘Well. I guess I’ll… I should probably be getting back to Hong Kong. Long flight, haha! Probably a long line to go stand in. Need to buy a ticket! Month’s pay, hah!’

Sheila nods, gives him a little awkward wave, and turns to leave. She doesn’t make it more than ten paces.

‘Sheila!’ Cecil shouts.

‘Yes?’ She turns around.

‘I just wanted to tell you…. I’d maybe avoid the 405. My friends tell me it’s just the worst at rush hour.’

‘Ah. Uh. Yeah. Thanks.’

Cecil smiles and turns to us. The look on our face must not be dissimilar to that of someone who’s just seen a cartoon boat full of puppies get struck by a meteorite.

‘Well, really dodged a bullet there, hey,’ he says, chuckling. ‘She’s so boring!’





48% of humans feel personally validated when Weather app is proven wrong

iphone weather

Despite predicting a relatively confident 100% chance of rain at 9:00am today, Rodger’s Weather app was foiled by the vagaries of an unpredictable climate. The morning is cloudy, to be sure, but it still hasn’t rained, and it’s 9:31.

In typical human fashion, Rodger has chalked this up as a personal validation of his John-Henry-esque superiority over the machine. It’s not a relevant comparison, as Rodger isn’t a meteorologist and the Weather app is in no way threatening his vocation, but he is sticking to it. (I think he just really needs a win lately.)

“I had a feeling it wasn’t going to rain,” Rodger confirmed. By this, we know what he really means is just that he really didn’t want to carry an umbrella, and is now bitter at having had to do so when the predicted rain did not appear.

Interestingly enough, Rodger’s feelings are in line with the Weather Apps and Humanity study released last week. The study included the now-famous data point stating that 48% of humans feel personally validated when their Weather app forecasts incorrectly.

Scientists have offered two possible explanations. One school of thought reasons that this may be due to the relative lack of visible and tangible threats faced by modern humanity, particularly urban residents. Without a visible foe over whom to regularly claim victory, such as wolves, snakes, or the sea, humans are acting out, finding challengers in Weather apps, fantasy football, and online message boards.

The second potential reason is the lack of positive engagement offered by impersonal Weather apps. Humans become confused and skeptical when new characters enter the scene, and the strange is often deemed as hostile. Weather apps have proliferated in the past decade and are now present in the pockets of a vast number of humans, and the growth may have been too rapid for flighty humanity to absorb without some measure of fear.

Adding to the problem, anti-apps activists maintain that Weather apps have done nothing to prove that they have peaceful intent and only come as helpful friends.

At press time, Weather apps were preparing to release a statement in response to the strongly-worded Weather Apps and Humanity study, which concluded with the lead scientist going on a rant about how he got soaked in a deluge the night before after his Weather app predicted ‘mostly cloudy and no rain’.


coming soon!

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Duel between Wenger and Mourinho this weekend to be decided by lightsaber

Arsenal coach Arsene Wenger looks on prior to their Champions League third round first leg soccer match against FC Twente at the Gelredome stadium in Arnhem, eastern Netherlands, Wednesday, Aug. 13, 2008. (AP Photo/Ermindo Armino)

Arsenal coach Arsene Wenger in front of the famous dual suns of the Emirates. (Original Photo:  AP Photo/Ermindo Armino)

Having finally vowed to put all their differences to rest following the outcome of one freaking epic lightsaber battle, Premier League managers Arsene Wenger and Jose Mourinho have been stirring up the press and their fans for support all week.

While Arsenal and Chelsea are playing through an irrelevant match on the pitch, Arsene and Jose will be in the midst of a grueling duel to decide the true victor as they dance about in the rafters of Stamford Bridge. The precise overhead location has not yet been determined, though reports suggest that it must be overly precarious and not at all practical for a lightsaber battle.

At one point, Arsene is expected to lose his footing and barely catch hold of a metal girding, narrowly avoiding a plummet to the bleachers below. This will allow him to have a heated exchange with Jose, in which a surprise plot twist will be revealed.

What they may be is anyone’s guess.

Mourinho elected not to respond to our interview requests, sending a message through an intern stating that he only talked to “real” news outlets, because he’s a twag. Word has it he will be using a double-bladed lightsaber, despite having publicly blasted opposing managers for doing the same at the start of the season.



Mourinho’s blade colour will be red, obviously, despite the fact that he manages Chelsea; Arsene, as the unanimously-agreed good guy, received the sky blue sabre by default.

Wenger, because he cares about those of us in the honest press, kindly agreed to a brief interview.

“Jose, and his teams, they’re always a real tough test,” he explained, never one to underestimate his opponents. “However, when it comes to our lightsaber duel this weekend, I think you’re going to see that it’s us who have the upper hand.”

He declined to complain about the unfairness of the dual-bladed weapon chosen by his opponent, and despite our trying to egg him on into saying something somewhat inflammatory, or even just plain mean, like Jose would have done, Wenger would only confirm that he thought Jose had a ‘great parry’, and a left swing that could really ‘do some damage’.

This weekend, while Arsenal and Chelsea are battling it out for Premier League supremacy (if you’re Arsenal) or battling relegation (if you’re Chelsea), look to the rafters – that’s where the real fight will be going on.

As to the outcome? From this point on, we’re just as in the dark as you are.





wenger close to fulfilling ambition of fielding eleven midfielders

wenger searches to fill hole at winger

wenger quenches latest transfer rumour




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Parents attempt to explain to child how internet works, fail

On a seemingly normal summer afternoon in Shanghai, the Welding household was thrown into disarray after young Martin asked one of the questions universally dreaded by parents.

Mum, Dad, he said, in that voice he puts on when you know he’s about to do something annoying.

Rodger and Norma Welding did their best to distract the little boy, but nothing could stop what was coming; the little terror was determined to ask his question.

Mum, Dad, he said again. How does the internet work?

Rodger and Norma, who are avid users of the internet, begin to see in that moment that that they actually had no idea as to how the internet functions. Like traffic patterns, or the seasons, they had accepted it as just one of those mysteries of life whose functioning doesn’t need to be reasoned out.

Rodger tried joking, to stall things. “Voodoo magic, of course!” He looked to Norma, feeling that it was her turn to broach the subject, after he’d successfully explained to Martin how to spell “Wednesday” the week before. “No, but seriously, Martin, I’m sure your mum can explain that one.”

As she began to think of a response, Norma realised that she had never even given the actual workings of the internet a second thought. A vast, invisible web, somehow catapulting movies and emails and pizza orders, without wires, from Space, and Germany, and Netflix… if any of those places even existed, come to think of it… it was too much to handle. Stammering, she began to feel the overwhelming magnitude of a something, invisible and all around her, transporting more information every single second than any human brain could comprehend in a lifetime. Beginning to feel paranoid, she checked their surroundings, wondering if they were in the internet right at that very moment.

Rodger was experiencing similar emotions. The internet was something that invented fantasy football and Wikipedia and the News. It wasn’t something to be comprehended, like elevators or sandwiches or airplanes. Now, however, he started to wonder about airplanes, and with a sickening feeling in his stomach, he had to confront the fact that a gigantic mass of steel and glass shouldn’t be able to fly, like it’s a bird or something. It was literally impossible.

Becoming flustered, Rodger tried to go back to the internet-as-voodoo-magic idea, which seemed more plausible than anything else at this point.

Not quite satisfied with the answers thus far, Martin followed his initial question up with a final knock-out punch, asking how can a phone make Mummy’s voice come to his school from her office. Rodger and Norma paled, looking at their phone-boxes, which were increasingly seeming more and more magic as the afternoon went on.

As they began to make up an answer, Martin, thank God, found a lizard, and stopped asking questions.


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Tourist rescued by passing fishermen

On Tuesday, passing fisherman discovered the plump and sunburned body of a foreigner sprawled along a muddy shoreline embankment on the River Nile. Fearing the worst, they pulled him onto their boat, greatly relieved to find him alive. They gently revived him with water and a couple of grilled bananas they had on hand. Guessing he was simply a lost and fairly stupid member of one of the many organised safaris which passed through the area, they decided to take him back to one of the park guard stations, where he could be quickly sorted out.

Their minds changed, however, when Nigel awoke. His pitiful, begging eyes flitting from the first unfamiliar face to the second, he could only gasp out one word:


Huck Finn said that ‘you feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft’, but just at this moment, that wasn’t the case for Nigel on the little fishing boat. He felt that he was not out of the woods just yet; he reasoned in his brief stay in the land of consciousness that he was likely to expire at any moment from sheer exhaustion and, as he had skipped breakfast (and possibly brunch), sheer starvation. He fell into a fitful sleep, mumbling to himself about restaurant menus written on chalkboards, margaritas that were frozen, and express trains to the airport before dreaming of lands where coffee flowed in abundance and milk and sugar fell from the very skies.

The fishermen deliberated as he slept.

“What an idiot. Doesn’t he know how dumb it is to sleep next to the water? There are hippos here! And crocodiles! And the mosquitoes! Sleeping there with his mouth gaping open, like he’s some crocodile in the sun. It’s a wonder he wasn’t eaten by something!” the first fisherman said, animatedly.

“No kidding. But, you know what, you saying that, about the hippos, it just makes me think, I do love hippos. Seriously, man, they are cute, aren’t they?” mused the second. He lapsed into a bit of silence as he thought about how funny hippos can be. It never got old, seeing those big, fat-fat animals. They passed a family of hippos lounging in the morning sun, and he smiled. He had a great smile, actually, and his mom was always badgering him about why he hadn’t settled down yet. It’s just about timing, really, he would tell her, and you have to find the right person –

“Let’s take him back to town?” suggested the first, interrupting the river musing of his companion.

“I guess that’s the best thing to do. There’s that cafe where the other foreigners go. Where they eat the green paste on chips. They certainly have coffee. That’s as good a place as any to drop him off,” replied his companion. “I’ll call Simon – he can give us a ride.”

Nigel, still unconscious when they arrived, was curled in a fetal position in the backseat. The first  fisherman picked him up and walked him into the cafe, laying him down gently on a seat made of a wood crate with an old coffee ad stamped onto it. He picked up a pillow, which was printed with a vintage tourism ad, and placed it under his head.

They’d grown quite fond of the hapless foreigner in the time they’d spent caring for him. “I think he’s going to like this place,” the first fisherman said to the second. Unfortunately, the second fisherman didn’t hear a word the first one said, because fond of the foreigner or not, he had just seen the waitress who was coming over to take their order, and she had stunned the very fire of life right out of him, down to its smallest, most infinitesimal spark, and it was all he could do just to remain standing. He gasped when she looked at him, and quickly averted his eyes.

Feeling a bit lightheaded herself upon seeing the sunlit smile of the second man who’d entered, the waitress said kindly to the first fisherman, “We’ll take good care of him. Don’t you worry.”

Nigel, for his part, slept through the whole exchange, unable to thank the angels of the river who had come to his rescue. He woke up just before lunch with a raging hunger. The kind waitress, who seemed to have a spring in her step, brought him a menu, and as soon as he saw ‘smoothies’ and ‘guacamole’, he knew he was in a safe place and nothing bad or scary could ever happen again.




find part one:  former backpacker shocked by revelation that he is a complete yuppie now here

find part two:  family super embarrassed of member killed by (baby) lions here


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Thousands of protestors issue joint apology to riot police

Facing mounting pressure from riot police unions, protestors have released a joint statement apologising for their recent behavior, which included general unrest, violent demonstrations, and somewhat impolite demeanour over the past weekend.

What began as a calm gathering of weekend picknickers quickly got out of hand early Saturday afternoon. Under the impression that two of their members had been unrightfully detained by uniformed individuals whom the picknickers mistook for riot police, they began angrily demanding their companions be returned, causing quite a stir as they pelted a nearby park attendant kiosk with any projectiles they could find on hand. The cries drew a crowd which rapidly transformed from curious to indignant upon hearing of the injustice foisted upon the helpless by uncaring faceless uniforms.

Swelling to over two thousand people over the course of just fifteen minutes, the protest began to migrate, seemingly at random. First, they blocked access to the popular public park in which the now infamous picnic began. They then orchestrated a spontaneous sit-in at a nearby Old Navy, long suspected to harbor pro-police sentiments and good weekend deals. The crowd then attempted to sing anti-police songs, but nobody really knew what to rhyme with ‘police’, so they decided to go to karaoke instead, which was pretty fun. They followed that up with a visit to a local ice-cream shop, where they rabidly devoured the entire stock in just a few minutes and didn’t even really say thank you, before moving en masse to the local iMax theatre, where they enjoyed a run of Jurassic World, even though many of them had already seen it. After the movie, still indignant with righteous fervour, the demonstrators raced to a nearby wine bar to catch the two-for-one happy hour, before electing to continue their night at several local establishments, culminating in what one demonstrator described as a ‘pretty sick weekend.’ By this point, with numbers estimated at over ten thousand, most protesters weren’t totally sure what they were angry about, but they unanimously agreed that protesting was pretty awesome.

Meanwhile, the park attendants who had been mistaken for riot police were feeling sort of left out, especially after some of the protestors said some pretty unkind things in passing. The two missing picknickers were discovered taking part in the protesting festivities, having simply left the park earlier in the day in search of a dumpling restaurant one of the guys said he was ‘sure was around there somewhere.’ Upon their return, to their delight, they stumbled upon the thousands of protestors, which they assumed was a flash mob. Riot police, who, of all parties, appear to be the most upset about the weekend’s proceedings, confirmed that they ‘have feelings, too’ and that ‘it kind of hurts to have people sing mean songs about you.’

It appears that reconciliation efforts are already underway, however, as protest leaders have invited riot police representatives to join next weekend’s protest festivities. Old Navy, the ice cream shop, and the iMax cinema have offered their services as corporate sponsors for any protests occurring in the near future.


Family super embarrassed of member killed by (baby) lions

baby lion nat and alex uganda 02

Hong Kong resident Nigel Dortmund has been missing for several days after embarking on what is now being considered an ill-fated safari trip through northern Uganda. He is presumed deceased after his personal effects were found near a well-known play area of several infant lions.

While safari reports record the size of the suspected lions as ‘small’, their age as ‘infant’, and their cute factor as ‘major’, it appears that they were still able to kill the 30-year-old tourist.

The Dortmund family has repeatedly requested that the newspapers reporting on their missing and presumedly deceased son remove any and all references to the size, ferociousness, and dangerability of the lions which took his life. Private sources indicate that the family is concerned their image and name will be negatively impacted by the fact that their dearly departed was slain by animals which appear in pictures to resemble cuddly, stuffed children’s toys.

At the recent memorial service in his hometown, pictures of the alleged killer lions were responded to with ‘Awww!’s and similar exclamations of delight and pleasure from the crowd. Many seemed disappointed when the slide show switched to childhood pictures of Nigel and murmurs of disapproval spread throughout the audience.

“Nigel was great, sure,” commented one guest. “But you have to see those lions. They are seriously the cutest.”

One guest confirmed that she “literally couldn’t even handle how cute the lions were”.

In an attempt to stem the damage to their reputation, Nigel’s family, joined by close friends, organised a protest and awareness march through downtown on Saturday night in which they aimed to educate the public on the fact that “baby lions are dangerous, too” and that “people who may or may not have been killed and eaten by baby lions are really manly and tough, just as much as anybody who gets done in by a more serious animal, and, actually, getting eaten by something super cute might make you even tougher than other people who get eaten by (subjectively) scarier, larger things, like sharks, dinosaurs, or bears.” It was a lot of information to include on one placard, to be frank, but they wanted to get their point across.

Unfortunately, as per usual, having too much text backfired, as the billboards and placards of the marchers also featured large, hi-res images of the creatures, who are admittedly just the most adorable. Instead of being demonised as the dangerous killers they really are, baby lions are now enjoying an unprecedented boom in the public’s approval rating, accompanied by skyrocketing general feelings of warmth and happiness among those who viewed the images.

After reports surfaced that Nigel was most likely eaten after wandering through his campsite at night looking for muesli, several large muesli producers have taken steps to distance themselves from the incident, with one major anonymous source confirming that they do not believe eating muesli increases in any significant way the likelihood of death by baby lion.




find part one:  former backpacker shocked by revelation that he is a complete yuppie now here

find part three:  tourist rescued by passing fishermen here




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Former backpacker shocked by revelation that he is a complete yuppie now


In an attempt to get back to the good ol’ backpacking days he is incessantly mentioning to friends (and  most likely leaning on for social validation), Nigel Dortmund, 30, of Hong Kong, signed himself up for a four day safari tour of western Uganda.

In the weeks preceding the trip, and even through the four-hour drive to the reserve, Nigel regaled his companions with tales of the travel adventures of his early 20s, detailing the numerous mishaps, serendipitous encounters, and downright escapades he had been a part of over the past decade.

Upon arriving at the safari entrance, however, his horizon began to darken. In a sign of what was to come, Nigel felt a sinking in his gut as he realised that there would be no bathrooms, hot showers, or Starbucks for at least three nights. In that moment, he understood with a start that he had become a full-blown yuppie, changed irrevocably by the years spent as a professional in Hong Kong. He hated being sweaty outside of an upscale urban gym; he thought about cheeses from time to time; all of his business socks were intentionally paired with his outfits; he didn’t go to Starbucks, because he had some rant against corporatocracy, but he really liked having them around, because they made him feel comfortable and safe; he drank unnecessarily complicated cocktails; he had footwear which he referred to as his “Tuesday shoes”.

A safari was suddenly looking like an exceedingly unwise proposition. He had voluntarily signed up to be apart from all of his favorite things, and now he was paying to sleep on the ground in a tent and be around smelly zoo animals. He didn’t even notice the exotic animals the group drove by on their way to the campground.

As the group began retiring to their tents, Nigel began asking frantically if anyone had some Greek style yoghurt and muesli for breakfast. Secretly, he had determined to wait until everyone else was asleep so that he could use the group’s abundant drinking water for a quick shower. He’d even heat it up over the campfire. Given, however, that they were camping on a safari with dangerous animals, exiting the tent in the middle of the night would mean that there was an estimated 50/50 chance of being eaten immediately by a lion, or big, weird beetles, or malaria.

Nigel, beyond the influence of statistics at this point, had already made up his mind.




find part two:  family super embarrassed of member killed by (baby) lions here

find part three:  tourist rescued by passing fishermen here




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