God Bless Us, Every 1 Percent
Ebenezer Scrooge was alphabetizing unpaid mortgages on Christmas Eve when the ghost of his late business partner Jacob Marley appeared, moaning and rattling his chains. “Great, another protester,” Scrooge muttered, before shouting, “Cratchit!,” at which point his clerk burst through the door in riot gear and pepper-sprayed Marley in his ashen face.
You Better Not Pout
This may be tough for you to hear, Billy—but there is no Santa Claus. I should clarify: There was a Santa Claus, and he brought joy to all the children in the world who believed in him, but last Christmas Eve he was murdered during an attempted sleigh-jacking.
Better Off as Friend-Requesters
As a result of their breakup, Mike Bennett and Jen Grunwald hereby agree to end all online contact immediately, subject to the terms and conditions set forth below, and also to both parties getting a good Wi-Fi signal.
The Joy of Unicorns
Hey, preteen girls, put down the rock 'n' roll music records and listen up! If you give up your virginity before you get married, you'll miss out on something far better than sex: befriending a unicorn.
Questioning Godzilla's Existence
Woke up after twenty-year hibernation. Hate when I oversleep-meant to hibernate fifteen years, sixteen tops. Terrible crick in neck-must have slept on my tail wrong.
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He studied fiction and film at Brown University and edited the school’s humor magazine. While growing up in Columbus, Ohio, he was tormented by the monster under his bed, a situation that only got worse in high school when the monster stole his girlfriend.
