Which Hunk Should Be Elected to the SCOTUS? By Jacob Shelton

Which Hunk Should Be Elected to the SCOTUS? By Jacob Shelton

Unless you’ve had your head under a rock (or you’re just a big ol’ dummy), last week Justice Antonin Scalia died, which is a bummer for his friends and family but very fun for those of us who thought he was a Grade A creep. But I’m not here to eulogize and discuss the past; I’m here to look to the future, baby. Someone has to replace Justice Scalia on the bench of the Supreme Court, and I think it’s high time that we had a hunk flexing his pecs under those big black robes. Luckily, there are at least ten qualified hunks who can fill the vacancy left by ol’ Scalia and meatballs.

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The Roadie by Mr. Rich

The Roadie by Mr. Rich

So I started being a roadie in the 70’s. I had knack for it.

I was really good and picking amps up. Putting amps down. Plugging shit in.

I toured with Goat Sack, Father Of The Goat, and If You Had A Goat You’d Be Here By Now.

I’m sure you’ve heard of them.

 

 

Then in 1974 my buddy said he had a gig for me doin’ shit for a band called Van Hellen.

 

I had never heard of them.

But the name sounded cool.

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Random Human Dies Nobody Cares By Sean Conforti

Random Human Dies Nobody Cares By Sean Conforti

At 5:53am this sunny winter morning a random human died. We didn’t bother getting a name because nobody seemed to care about the human prior to death, so we assumed that nobody would care a posteriori. A nurse at the hospital referred to the corpse with male pronouns, so we assume that the human was male. However, dead now, the human has become gender neutral, in so far as compost cannot be assigned gender in the English language. The French word for compost is masculine, both a noun and a verb. It is yet to be determined if this is relevant.

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Science of the Swipe By Grubman

Science of the Swipe By Grubman

Mobile dating apps, while still in their infancy, have taken over the hearts, minds and fingers of almost everyone lucky enough to possess a smart device. Countless hours spent mining the minuta of potential partners, the details of datability, the chemistry, the compatibility, the instinct, the emotion. So many possibilities, so many paths to choose. One after another after another, in rapid fire, with little time to decode each decision. As quick as each flick may be, however, there is most certainly a science, if not an art, to the all-powerful, all-knowing swipe.

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