We are calling it. Joe Biden’s presidential campaign is all but over. So, it’s official, but like, official official this time. Yeah, he’s still gonna show up at the debate circus, and you can bet your ass he’s not going to turn off the inbound donations faucet. The only explanation that I can come up with after watching this video seventy times is, either Joe Biden is slowly losing his ability to keep his train of thought (which is sad), or, he is intentionally behaving senile to avoid potential future prosecution (which is pure genius.)
Now, the man you are about to watch in this video simply cannot be the Democratic nominee. Even though I would pay to watch, the debates against Trump would be an absolute bloodbath for Joe. Please watch and then leave your comments below with the odds of Joe winning the nomination.
The video you are about to witness pretty much sums up American politics in just twenty seconds. This fart on live tv by Eric Swalwell gives a whole new meaning to politicians blowing hot air. Now, I’ve reviewed this video like it was the Zapruder film, and when I slowed down the frame rate, you can clearly see him pause, furrow his brow, lean forward, and push to contract his lower GI walls. In addition, I isolated the audio of the sound (i.e. the fart) and listened to it over seven hundred times, and while some are saying it was a faulty microphone, it was, in my expert opinion, a natural, yet untimely bodily function. If you would like to debate this with me, please invite me on your podcast.
Naturally, both Rep. Swalwell (a democrat) and the producers of Hardball/Shartball are denying this literally gross injustice. There is no comment yet, but viewers can rest assured this fart was the result of yet another taxpayer funded lunch.
Steve Easterbrook, who had been the fast food giant’s CEO since 2015, was fired from the company after its board of directors found that he violated McDonald’s policy, it said in a statement. The burger chain’s board found that Easterbrook, 52, “demonstrated poor judgment involving a recent consensual relationship with an employee.”
Per company policy, McDonald’s would not comment on the employee or details surrounding the relationship. However, a source says there were whispers among corporate offices that the employee was none other than Grimace. Said the source: “Yeah, every once in a while, Steve would walk in late to our meetings with his hands and lips all purple. We figured he just ate a jelly donut or something, but we’d still bust his balls and ask if he had been blowing Grimace again. Well, we’re not joking around now.” He added “We didn’t even think it was possible, because Grimace is just kinda this big stuffed animal, but who knows, I guess if it pulls up its’ belly or whatever, maybe there’s like a purple dick under there.”
These are the first allegations of misconduct at McDonald’s since the summer of 2018, when Mayor McCheese and the Hamburglar were accused of inappropriate behavior in the backseat of an Uber Black. At the time, the driver, who spoke to us under the condition of anonymity, said “I overheard the Hamburglar saying he had pictures of the Mayor in compromising situations with Captain Crook. He said he was going to release the pictures (to the popular McDonald’s gossip outlet TMcZ) unless he was willing to, um, you know, and these are his words, not mine, ‘gurgle my hamburgle.’ Of course, there is no window divider in Uber, so I just focused on the road and turned up my radio. When the ride was over, they gave me five stars and a 20% tip, but I asked the Hamburglar to leave his scarf and gloves behind so I could wipe up his special sauce.”
Grimace, whose gender is unknown but apparently leans towards male by using the pronouns “Gre/Grim”, could not be reached for comment. The company’s share price closed at $194 on Friday, up 9.2% for the year.
NY POST – A 21-year-old man born with nine toes on his left foot finally had the four extra digits surgically removed after a lifetime of living with the deformity.The man, who doctors identified only as Ajun, told news service Asia Wire that his parents were reluctant to do the surgery when he was a baby — since a fortune teller claimed the extra toes were “a gift from the heavens.”
Though he was able to walk, Ajun, a native of Lufeng City in South China’s Guangdong Province, spent his life ashamed to wear sandals. It impacted his social life and mental health.“I’ve never had a girlfriend because I’m so imperfect,” he said. “I never thought I’d find anyone who wants to be with me.”
“Other hospitals would’ve just removed his outermost extra toes,” his doctor, Wu Xiang said. “That would’ve been the easiest solution, but it wouldn’t look the best. His most natural looking toe is on the outside, so we decided to migrate it inwards to its most ideal position, replacing his fifth digit and creating a new big toe.”
But it was worth it. Ajun said he’s thrilled with the operation. He’ll recover in the hospital for a few more weeks. “I think my foot is perfect.”
I’m genuinely happy for Ajun. Up until this surgery, you couldn’t play “This little piggy went to the market” with this dude, otherwise you would have been there all damn day. You might actually lose count and have to start over again. “Then this little piggy went…god damn it, Ajun, stop moving your foot foot around.” I can’t even imagine what he went thru at the local nail salon, they must have had a special pricing menu like “Manicure: $30, Pedicure: $30, Ajun Pedicure: $45.”
It’s sad to think that even in Guangdong, bros are so self conscious about their abnormalities they feel like they can’t go out in public, meet babes, do the two step, etc. I honestly feel like he could have harnessed this special power to do great things. Can you even imagine his time trials in the 200 meter butterfly stroke with that flipper, just ripping thru the water like a torpedo? Or, how much of a beast he would be at Hacky Sack? You think the sacks gonna hit the ground today, nope, Ajun is keeping the action going all day and night with that dinner plate.
Anyway, he had the extra toes hacked off, and he’ll be able to wear regular shoes as he tracks down real love. Even though your foot is perfect now, don’t worry Ajun, a woman will still find something about you she needs to fix. I do find it rather curious there’s no mention in the story of where the other piece of that foot goes. Yeah, they toss it in a biohazard bin, I get it, but after that, then what? The incinerator? Maybe they should put it on ice in case someone comes thru the doors who only has half a foot, that way they can be like “wow, do I have some good news for you.”
As a public service announcement, with regards to child care, we would highly recommend you visit a medically trained physician. The only time you should visit a fortune teller is if you identify as a complete rube.
Syracuse News – It was supposed to be a day of celebration. On Saturday afternoon, six members of an Iowa family gathered outside a rural Knoxville, Iowa, home for what society has dubbed a “gender reveal” party. Among the six was a pregnant woman. Her family was there to learn the sex of her baby.
But the reveal – which involved a homemade explosive device – went horribly wrong, shooting metal shrapnel toward the family standing 45 feet away.Pamela Kreimeyer, 56, was struck in the head. She died on impact, officials said.
“Gender reveal” parties have become an obsession for people trying find creative ways to tell the world the sex of the baby they are expecting. Often, these grand reveals are made for social media moments that involve displays of pink or blue. That’s what the Kreimeyer family had planned for.
The family had welded a homemade stand, which was filled with gunpowder, to a metal base. They drilled a hole for a fuse and placed a piece of wood on top of the metal stand. Colored powder was then layered on top of the wood.Then, they put tape on top of the entire assembly, which “inadvertently created a pipe bomb,” authorities said.Around 4 p.m. Saturday, they lit the fuse.
Rather than shooting the colored powder into the air, the contraption exploded outward. A piece of metal struck Pamela Kreimeyer in the head before landing in a nearby field, according to the sheriff’s department.The explosion remains under investigation.
Under investigation? The investigation is over. Some Iowa folks who had only goodness in their hearts accidentally created a pipe bomb, and the pipe bomb did what pipe bombs do: explode. Now is not the time for lingering questions about the family’s decision to assemble a keg of TNT like Wile E. Coyote.
Despite the fact I have no legal jurisdiction to do so, nor do I have a law enforcement background to speak of or any connection to this case, I am formally closing it. Sorry for this grandma to be, sorry for the cop who had to go looking for that piece of metal that ricocheted off her head and into the nearby field, sorry for everyone involved. But we, as a society, have to stop this kind of narcissistic “look at me! look at us!” behavior. You’re having a baby, congrats, it’s not that hard to make one. We’ve all been there before, you get all gussied up and head out for a nice evening at Golden Corral. Maybe it’s payday, maybe you go dutch, or who knows, maybe there’s a blue moon tonight and she picks up the tab. Either way, there’s nothing like looking into her eyes after some fine cuisine and she gives you that look that says “take me, take me now, on top of the perpetual chocolate fountain in front of the other guests.” You don’t, because you know one more strike in this place earns you a lifetime ban, but you find somewhere you can have privacy, like a dead end road, or maybe you have some points saved up at the Motel 6. Then, you’re making the sweetest of love in that after dinner glow, when, whoops a daisy doo, it felt so good you accidentally left it in there. Fine. But, why the need to “get creative” when revealing the gender? Just say “we’re having a boy” or “we’re having a girl”, and get ready for at least 18 years of pure joy and digging yourself into a $300,000 hole to raise it.
Now, you want a gender reveal story, I’ll give you a gender reveal story. I’m the youngest of six kids, and when my Mom told my dad she was pregnant with me, he didn’t say “Yay! Let’s fill a balloon with pink or blue baby powder and then pop it to surprise our friends with the gender!” he said “holy shit, how are we gonna feed another fuckin’ mouth around here?”
Great question, he should have thought of that one while he was up to the devil’s business. Anyway, I’m here now and it’s obviously too late to put me back in. In hindsight, I find my existence to be somewhat ironic, considering I was conceived on a pull-out couch.
NY POST – Shagmag founder Julia Rose and brand executive Lauren Summer have been banned indefinitely by Major League Baseball after flashing Astros pitcher Gerrit Cole during Game 5 of the World Series on Sunday night.
They received a letter which read “During the game, you violated the fan code of conduct by exposing yourself during the 7th inning, in order to promote a business,” the letter read.It appears the women were promoting breast cancer awareness.
League spokesperson Michael Teevan confirmed to USA Today that the women had been banned, noting MLB “distributed a letter to the individuals in question, and the letter set for an indefinite ban for each.”
Fellow attendee Kayla Lauren, who also sported a yellow Shagmag T-shirt at the game, later posted a bathroom selfie seemingly following the incident.“Just got kicked out of the World Series. In police HQ bathroom still gotta get that birthday selfie,” she shared on her Instagram story.
Boston, MA – Besides being born looking really good with little to no effort, the best thing to ever happen to these chicks is being banned from the World Series. They should actually reply and ask to be banned from all games, forever. Baseball, as a sport, and as a national pastime anyway, is nearly dead. The league should actually thank these brave women for their wonderful service and encourage others (only those who are capable, those who are not, you know who you are) to follow suit. As a fan of the sport of baseball, you are essentially paying ridiculous amounts of money to see a guy try to hit a ball over a fence. That’s it. If the ball goes over the fence, everyone in the stands (who had nothing to do with it) goes fucking bananas as if this is something they haven’t seen 87,000 times before. If the ball doesn’t go over the fence, well, that’s okay, because the players can still advance one base at a time through various scenarios, all of which are likely to put you to sleep.
In my last experience visiting Fenway, it was $50 to park, $150 for the ticket, $9 for a beer, then I went and sat down in seats that must have been built when the average height of a human being was 4’7″. My knees were absolutely crushed into the seat in front of me, but it was the good kind of pain, because it helped to keep my mind off the fact the guy behind me basically had his warm privates touching my neck. At first I was thinking, “Please be a giant foam finger. Please be a giant foam finger.”, and then I slowly turned my head to discover the grim reality: It was his ballbag.
Anyway, all Major League Baseball has to do to improve sinking ratings and put more asses in the seats is to allow hot chicks to do whatever they want at the stadium. That’s all these heroes were trying to do, and not all heroes wear capes, or in this case, shirts. Oh, MLB might also consider updating their old ass song to this:
🎵 Take me out to the ballgame,
take me out where it’s lame,
buy me some peanuts and hold on a sec,
would you look at those two fuckin hot chicks,
for it’s one, two, yep two pairs of boobs,
at my new, favorite, gaaaame! 🎵
For more information about ShagMag, please visit www.shagmag.com and say goodbye to your afternoon.
For more information about how you can save 3 hours a day times 162 games which equals 20 DAYS A YEAR, simply stop watching baseball.
FOXBORO (CBS) – A Rhode Island man is accused of stealing items from the Patriots Hall of Fame at Gillette Stadium – but he didn’t get very far. The man was captured in the parking lot wearing a game-worn Tom Brady jersey.
On Thursday, Foxboro Police Officer Joseph Godino and Sgt. David Foscaldo helped Patriots security find 33-year-old Zanini Cineus of Providence in the plaza parking lot. He was allegedly wearing the stolen Brady jersey under his jacket.Foxboro Police said Cineus stole other memorabilia as well.
He was arrested and charged with larceny. He reportedly pleaded not guilty at his arraignment in Wrentham District Court. According to the Attleboro Sun Chronicle, the Brady jersey is worth $10,000.
I feel like we need more information on this, with regards to the lack of security at the Patriots Hall of Fame. I’ve actually never been there, nor have I been to any other Halls of Fame, nor could you pay me to go to any of them. Can you imagine going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where they must have solid security, and the guide is like “These are the black leather pants Gene Simmons wore during the Kiss farewell tour. Ah yes, here we have Vince Neil’s assless chaps. Just to your right are a couple of Mick Jagger’s tank tops. Of course, we put these items in a glass case so they can’t be stolen, but also so no one catches HPV.”
Think about it: How much fun do you suppose you’d have at the Basketball Hall of Fame? You’re gonna walk around for hours looking at a couple of pairs of Chuck Taylors, and the original peach basket they used for a hoop? The whole time they’re playing looping audio of basketballs going “swish” thru a net, and the unmistakable sound of sneaker soles chirping off wooden floors? If the guide asks if there are any questions, I’d be like “yes, could you direct me to the gun exhibit now because I’d like to take my own life.”
Anyway, I demand answers to this question: Who is in charge of security at the Patriots Hall of Fame, Paul Blart? Isn’t Tom Brady’s shirt(s) locked in a glass case and mounted on a wall thirty feet off the floor, that way when people look at it they are also kind of looking up at heaven? How did a commoner walk into this place, and simply try on a $10,000 shirt like he was in a fucking TJ Maxx? You think someone can just walk into Dollywood and try on one of the bras? This is an outrage!
This theft is the same thing as someone going into the L’ouvre and walking out wearing Jesus Christ’s sandals. Using that same Patriots Hall of Fame level of security, they’d be like “woah, someone walked off with Jesus’ Birkenstocks”, then by the time they find the guy he’s out in the parking lot listening to Phish and playing hacky sack.
I will not rest peacefully until someone is fired for this. You want to take a little nap in the security booth while someone steals Steve Grogan’s neck roll or John Hannah’s jockstrap, be my guest, but you guard Tom Brady’s shirt like your god damned life depends on it.
National Review:On Tuesday, Massachusetts legislators considered a bill that would criminalize certain uses of the word “bitch” — making it punishable by up to six months in jail or a fine up to $200.
The bill, introduced a month ago by state Democratic representative Dan Hunt, states that “a person who uses the word ‘bitch’ directed at another person to accost, annoy, degrade or demean the other person shall be considered to be a disorderly person” and would be guilty of a criminal offense punishable by “a fine of not more than either $150 or $200, or jail time of up to six months.” The offense could be reported not only by the person being called a bitch, but also a third-party witness.
First, I’ve never really understood fining someone who is going to jail or prison for a substantial amount of time. You always hear about some guy getting sentenced for twenty years and also “may face a $10,000 fine.” You think a guy who just spent the last two decades in prison is going to walk out the doors, remember the fine, and start patting his pockets going “oh, now what have I done with my checkbook?” The fine should be kind of lumped in with the fact that, you know, he just spent the last twenty years eating gruel while keeping both his head and his asshole on a swivel.
Anyway, the democrats are pushing a bill (instead of doing actual work to improve the lives of citizens) which would make it illegal to call someone a “bitch” in this, the great state of Massachusetts. Now, there is a gray area here, with regards to determining what is, and what isn’t, an insult. For example, let’s say some stupid fuck continues looking down at their phone when the light turns green, and you’re behind them now wondering if you’re going to make this light. Unlike the old days, you will no longer be able to put your head out the window and yell “step on the gas, you stupid bitch!” Under this new law, I guess that one would technically be considered annoying and/or demeaning, but not nearly as annoying as missing the light because that bitch was texting. Conversely, now when you meet an old friend out in public and say “sup, bitch?”, that one you can still do, because you did not intend to insult this person. However, please note that people within earshot may have their feelings hurt. What’s more, even ‘if’ you are being chummy with your friend, who has always welcomed “sup, bitch?” as a proper greeting, other citizens will now be able to intrude on your personal conversations to determine whether or not you meant to use the term “bitch” as an insult this time around. Not mentioned in the law is how any of these kinds of conversations will be handled, so we have taken the liberty of creating an example:
Me: “Sup, bitch?”
Some nosey ass bitch who I wasn’t even talking to: “Excuse me, that word is offensive, not to mention illegal now.”
Me: “Oh, I beg your pardon, your Excellence. Sup, homo?” then me and my buddy knuckle bump and go get turnt on White Claws.
As odd and incredibly pointless as this law seems to be, there are several others you may not be aware of. Did you know it is technically illegal to celebrate Christmas in Massachusetts, and it is also unlawful to have a goatee in public without the proper licensing? I’m not really sure where you’d go for that, where you walk into some zoning office and they’re like “doing some renovations to your house?” and you’re like “Nope, I’m doing some renovations to my face. One Goatee license, please.”
In the meantime, Massachusetts does not allow “Happy Hour”, a fun event centered around discounted alcohol which is aimed to give people a break from the day in and day out monotony of our existence. If this bill passes and you absolutely need to call someone a bitch, it looks like you’ll have to drive to New Hampshire. It also means a lot of us are going to have to come up with new nicknames for our mother in laws.
Townhall.com – Rachel McKinnon is a professional Canadian cyclist who was born a biological male, but now identifies as a female. According to Union Cyclist Internationale Masters Track Championship rules, McKinnon therefore is allowed to compete against women instead of against men. McKinnon has previously claimed that being born a male but racing against women is not only fair, but a human right for transgender individuals. McKinnon won a second Women’s Sprint World Championship over the weekend, but the Canadian’s qualifying time for this competition would not have even been fast enough to qualify for the men’s championship.
Well, as the old saying goes, “If you can’t beat ’em, tape your junk down and go compete against the women.” Seriously, if you are going thru a transition, whether it be male to female, female to male, or male to female then back to male again because being a guy is much easier, you should absolutely be able to continue doing what you love. In Rachel’s case, hey, she really likes pedaling a bike faster than every other girl on earth. No doubt, all seven of you that read our expose on dudes racing as girls will draw some parallels with this blog. The bottom line is, until another female who used to be a male steps up to compete against Rachel, I have a feeling she’ll be winning this event every year for the rest of her life. The question then becomes, why are we not going to Vegas and betting our entire life savings on her?
To recap, Rachel McKinnon was born male, but identifies as female, and is simply crushing the hopes and dreams her competition. Look, if the other natural chicks want to show up week in and week out to compete for second place as Rachel blows their labias off, be my guest. Theoretically, what’s to stop Lance Armstrong from coming out of retirement and going “hey, I identify as a female now call me Mary” as he drinks a 16oz. smoothie made with kale and someone else’s clean blood? You know he would absolutely smoke the field and could do so by pedaling with one foot.
As for the current state of world class cycling, I honestly couldn’t care less what happens. I guess I stopped caring about it after that time I got banned from a spin class for putting the queen of clubs in my spokes.
Perhaps someone will come along to challenge this physical speciwomen, but until then, my money’s on Rachel. VROOOOOOM!
Suzanne Somers of “Three’s Company”, and “Thighmaster”, just turned 73 years young, and boy oh boy that’s about as good as it gets for 73. After starring as a daft blonde with a great pair of cuckoo! cuckoos! in Three’s Company, Suzanne went on to shill Thighmaster’s flagship product, aptly named “Thighmaster”, which cemented her status as a total Shillf. This product probably works, but, like everything else, by using the power of marketing they led millions of housewives to actually believe that if you sat on your ass all day with this giant paper clip between your legs, you too could firm up your entire body.
Now, if you’re not familiar with “Three’s Company”, it was a sitcom in the 80’s about a guy who had to act gay so his landlord would let him live in the same apartment as two single women. You have to remember, this was the 1980’s when people were a bit more conservative, and things weren’t so out in the open like they are today, with people going thru this transitioning hocus pocus, injecting estrogen hormones, using pronouns, hacking off dicks, etc., etc., etFc.
The show starred John Ritter (who played Jack Tripper), Suzanne Somers (who played Chrissy Snow), and who was so hot you almost couldn’t watch an episode without having a box of tissues nearby. Oh, and as the title suggests, there was a third character, some mousy brunette who was always cock-blocking Jack. She’s like one of those chicks who’s so jealous of her hot friends, that instead of just going back to her room and dilling out, she has to submarine everyone else’s good time. Anyway, if you can believe it, the entire premise of the show revolved around Jack being so horny that he was constantly trying to sneak broads into the apartment. This led to a lot of predictable hijinx between he and his landlord, and even though you could see these scenarios coming a mile away, NBC continued to just stuff the laughtrack down your throat. Despite the inane plotline, as a young male viewer, you would just sit there, unblinking, with tented pantaloons the whole time rooting for Jack to finally have a threesome with Chrissy and whatshername. Of course, it never happened for Jack just like it never happened for me, and to date, the closest I’ve come to having a threesome was that time I got blown by a chick who was cross-eyed.
Now, if there’s one minor complaint I have about the picture above, it’s that Suzanne is among those amber waves of grain looking like she’s about to make a doody. Instead, I choose to remember her with this absurd contraption between her legs.
Editor’s Note: If you would like to tone up your thighs by doing this exercise for about 90 hours a week, please visit Suzanne Somers Thighmaster Gold and use the coupon code “Martin” to save absolutely nothing.
Disclaimer: Wicked Improper not responsible for torn ACL’s.