Wool – this one is made for someone named Jonathan. It’s mustard and he’s crying because he’s out of protein shake, but damn he looks good in that scarf. Wear it to the gym John, wrap those muscles in a scarf, then wraps those strong scarf arms around my little body, you hunk of woven man.
Wool – There’s so much you can do with this one, you have to ask yourself, “what can’t I do?” Wear it as piece of wooly queen jewelry. Smite the haters. Make them bow to you. Make them cry, then wipe their tears with your scarf before you use it to guillotine their heads. Yarn never felt so good.
Wool – Set it on fire. It’s what everyone does these days. It will keep you super toasty, and you’ll turn into the marshmallow you always dreamed of being – burnt on the outside, but solid and completely uncooked on the inside.
Wool – Use it to brush your teeth. You’ll thank me later.
Wool – You really are just like everyone else. You soft-mongering knitty knatty twit! Wear your scarf in shame around your neck where it belongs.
Listen up kid, ‘cause I’m only going to say this once: I’ve got several thousand turkeys stockpiled here and I want YOU to help me move them. I’m a businessman buddy, and that means you gotta look forward. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it and that means in less than 11 months’ time you got people rushin’ around all kinds of places lookin’ for fresh poultry and WE’RE gonna be the ones to supply it, friend. Right now the turkey supply is high and the demand is low and that means just one thing: buy, buy, buy. I purchased a cheap farm on the outskirts of town and several start-up turkeys and now all we do is bide our time. In a few months everybody will be scrambling around trying to get a turkey and then BAM, we flood the market with our turkeys, at an inflated rate, of course. That’s basic economics, son, clean and simple. We’re going to be rich pal, it’s a fact. My girlfriend didn’t leave me over an idea that would give us chump change, did she? Fuck you, Erica. Get in on this shindig quick and contact F. OWLMAN at GRAVYTRAIN1@GMAIL.COM
By Leo Corman
Chocolate chips—everyone’s favorite harmless treat, right? Wrong! A new study has found that chocolate chips can hurt when stepped on. “You see, they have that kind of pointy part, and if that’s sticking up when your foot makes contact with the chip, you could experience slight to mild pain,” according to a senior scientist involved in the study. “We are continuing to conduct follow-up research, but in the meantime, if there are chocolate chips on the ground near you, please be careful.”
Health experts are warning parents to keep chocolate chips away from vulnerable young children. “If chocolate chips hurt just by stepping on them, imagine the type of havoc they would wreak on a child’s digestive system,” said a leading official in an NIH statement yesterday. She stressed the need for proper safety precautions while handling chocolate chips: “Children should not be allowed near chocolate chips unsupervised. Should a spill occur, immediately quarantine the area. Clean up the chocolate chips with gloves and thick-soled shoes.”
NIH also recommended melting chocolate chips before consumption, but even this could be hazardous. Another group of scientists has uncovered how chocolate, when heated to high temperatures, can burn the tongue and mouth. Said one member of this team, “We’re still gathering data on this phenomenon, but I think it’s safe to say that these results have the potential to fundamentally reshape the role of chocolate in our lives.”
By Hannah Lynn
I Thought My Boyfriend Was Standing Up To Institutional Racism But He Was Just Proposing
Our anniversary dinner was going swimmingly–the steak was chewable, the wine was alcoholic, the bathroom had mints–but then, disaster struck. I had pretty low expectations from Chad this year, especially after last year’s petting zoo disaster. So when he took me out to a restaurant so fancy the waiters wore cumberbunds, I thought “Hey, this might not be so bad!” Of course now I realize only a naive child would have such a thought.
I was halfway through my dessert, a literal Twinkie on a fancy plate, when Chad got down on one knee. My heart started beating fast. My palms were sweating. I might have peed a little. I’d been dreaming about this moment since I was a little girl.
“I love you so much. Will you marry me?” he said. I almost spit out my water. What the hell was this? I thought my boyfriend was going to take a stand against institutional racism but instead he declared his undying love for me? Disgusting. People are dying, Chad.
His brow furrowed. “Honey,” he said, “Did you hear me?”
“Innocent black men, women, and children are killed every week. Our prison system is a modern form of slavery. Iggy Azalea still exists…” I said, trailing off when I saw the crushed look on his face. But I didn’t understand. He kept bringing up Colin Kaepernick and how much he loved ‘Lemonade!” When I asked him later, he explained that he’s only familiar with Kaepernick’s work on the playing field because his dad’s a big 49ers fan, and that he was talking about the tangy and refreshing beverage, not Beyonce’s groundbreaking album.
I can’t be with an athlete just to bask in the beauty of his patriotic protest, so the least Chad could do was stand up for a group of historically oppressed people.
I guess I’ll just have to take a knee at the altar.
By I.S. Mills
Devyn Prescott, of Fox Chapel, is an outspoken advocate for private education of her children and other children in the rich community.
“I think it’s really important that my kids understand from an early age that they are better than other children,” said the 34-year-old mother of two.
Prescott emphasizes that an early exposure to competition and socio-economic caste division makes certain that children attain high social status, financial prosperity, and racist tendencies in the future.
“Like, in public schools, there’s this concept of everybody being treated basically the same no matter their race or income. Which I really didn’t like,” explains Prescott. “My kids are better than other kids. I mean, look at my kid- it’s wearing a fucking North Face and it’s not even below 50 degrees.”
The private-school guru assures that kids who go to private schools do not necessarily need to be smarter or more talented in any way than public school kids.
“I mean shit, my kids half Mike. Of course they’re not going to be very bright,” Prescott laughs, referring to her husband of twelve years. “But they’ve got Confirmation names and a pet hedgehog that has died and been replaced twice without them noticing.”
And if you want a sports star for a child, Prescott says private school is the way to go. “Every public school in the country has a softball team, so there’s less of a chance that my kid will comparatively be the best at it. But there are only three schools in the state that have polo teams. Much higher chance my kid will be good enough at something that I can talk about the national tournament at family get-togethers.”
But fret not, public school parents. Prescott promises there are other ways to guarantee your little aristocrat gets all the attention it needs to overshadow others.
“They could join the marines and become a war hero,” she offers, “or get randomly rich like Bill Gates. It can happen.”
Once upon a time, there was a guy named Bohemius Jackson. He was a tall, chiseled man of Croatian descent living in Amsterdam. One fateful evening he found himself floating down a river in a wooden barrel. He thought to himself, “Ja stvarno želim sam imao milkshake!”
So he crawled his way out of the barrel and swam to shore. As he was wringing out his hair, he saw three men bicycling straight at him! Not three men on three separate bicycles or three men on one three-seated tandem bicycle, but three men on one regular bicycle. Outrageous. “Wat zijn jullie aan het doen?! he yelled in Dutch. “Er zijn twee veel mensen op die fiets! Je gaat jezelf pijn doen!” But the three men scoffed and laughed. They would not slow down. They kept pedaling—er, one of them kept pedaling; the rest balanced and gave Bohemius Jackson menacing looks.
Bohemius Jackson looked on in horror as his damp hair dripped down his neck. Time seemed to pass by in slow motion as the three men barreled forward. Bohemius Jackson initiated a large gulp as he braced himself; he knew what was coming. Bohemius Jackson widened his stance, spread his arms out wide and screamed “Mijn naam is Bohemius Jackson en ik verdomme hou milkshakes! Doe je ergste!” Mere seconds later the three men crashed into Bohemius Jackson in a catastrophic display never before seen by the eyes of man. The front tire of the bicycle smashed into the inner side of Bohemius Jackson’s right knee, and as the wheel spun, it tore the skin open, causing Bohemius Jackson’s right kneecap to fall out and onto the ground.
As the collision proceeded and the bike propelled forward, Bohemius Jackson’s right leg was twisted out of place and eventually dislocated. The initial contact knocked one of the men off balance and he began to fly forward. He groaned and threw his arms forward to catch himself. In doing so, he poked Bohemius Jackson in both of his eyes, rendering them useless.
Bohemius Jackson, now blind, began to panic. He started to flail his arms around and whacked the driver of the bicycle right in the dang temple. This knocked the driver out and he began to fall to the ground, tipping the bicycle with him. The third man on the bicycle tumbled forward in the midst of the collision, and as the bike fell sideways, so did he. He yelled as he hit the ground, and he tumbled into the river and floated downstream. The first man, who poked Bohemius Jackson in the eyes, landed behind Bohemius Jackson, who was now staggering around, blind and crippled. Enraged, the man picked himself up and hit Bohemius Jackson with a powerful kick to the side of Bohemius Jackson’s now kneecap-less knee. Bohemius Jackson yelped in pain and fell to the ground in despair. “Waarom?!” he bellowed to the sky; it began to drizzle.
Adrenaline coursing through his blood, Bohemius Jackson collected himself and examined his attacker, who was standing a few yards away, with a staggered stance like that of a sumo wrestler prepared to engage in combat. “Waarom doe je me dit aan?” Bohemius Jackson asked the man. The man rolled his eyes, laughed, and spat on Bohemius Jackson—an impressive distance, it is worth noting. This sparked Bohemius Jackson into action. Bohemius Jackson stood, relying on his one good leg. He leapt at the man and swung a fist, but the man dodged it and parried away. The man then brought his right hand to his forehead, sticking out his index finger and thumb in the shape of an “L” while sticking his tongue out. Now Bohemius Jackson was furious.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out three shuriken; the man looked on in horror.
“Oh neuken! Je hebt verdomme shuriken? Neuken!!” he exclaimed.
Bohemius Jackson laughed heartily and threw the three shuriken into the man’s neck, shoulder and torso. The man collapsed and bled to death. Today, justice was served.
To be continued…
Even though this year has been a dumpster fire filled with burning diapers, there is still so much to be thankful for! We here at The Pittiful News decided to take some time together to discuss our thanks to give and came up with a complete, comprehensive list!
- Land Before Time
- Hallmark (the store)
- Hallmark (the channel)
- Gilmore Girls
- Eye patches (shout-out to the lady on the bus with a bedazzled denim eyepatch)
- Plane engines that work
- Italian food
- Montages of Italian food
- Montage music
- That video of Steve Irwin wrestling an emu
- Steve Irwin
- Who’s that guy that narrates Planet Earth
- Stop signs
- Soft cheeses
- My Google
- Cool stickers
- Cool socks (but not toe socks)
- The Knowles family
- Holes (the concept, not the movie_
- Bones (the enamel, not the show)
- “Make a man out of you”
- Doggy paddling (performed by humans)
- Forensic analysis
- Heaters that aren’t loud
- Star fish
- Fried stuff
- Mrs. Fields
- Oscar Isaac
- The five senses
- Comprehensive lists
- Incomprehensive lists
- Morbidly obese rabbits
- Morbidly obese babies
- Thicc steaks
- Bo Obama
- Very Very small iguanas
- The year 2020
- Videos of emus
What are you thankful for? Tweet at us @thepittifulnews
By Shannon Kelly
“I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody” Perfect if you’re applying to any retail position! They want to know you have limits, and regular people can push them.
“A very good brain.” Business professionals take note! This business-man didn’t get to the position he’s in by not just coming right out and saying how smart he is.
“I know more about ISIS than the generals do.” This is the most obvious one. Get it out of the way as early as possible.
“A nasty woman” A classic. You’re Nasty—that’s your brand. Make sure employers know what they’re getting into when they hire you.
“I know Russia well—I had a major event in Russia two or three years ago. Miss Universe contest, which was a big, big incredible event—an incredible success” It’s hard for employers to trust your organizing skills, so tell them upfront your history with foreign beauty pageants.
“I think the only difference between me and the other candidates is that I’m more honest and my women are more beautiful” This phrase is useful if you get the classic “why are you qualified for this position” question.
“I love Hispanics” This one is a great starter; it shows you’re full of compassion. I would actually start with this phrase even if you’re not prompted to. Handshake then “I love Hispanics”
By Jessica Simpson
By Leo Corman
Thus while most Americans contemplate November 8th with dread, a few might truly be excited by the results.