The excitement and urgency of building our first settlement. The constant amazement of looking out through a porthole and seeing Mars. The Red Planet! Our new home.

Well, it’s been two years since then and I can honestly say that I fucking hate it here.

The initial excitement has faded into a dusty, dull, orange routine. A routine I know is going to last until the day I die. Why didn’t I think about that earlier? Before I signed my life away and agreed to a one-way trip to Mars?

One nice thing about this colonization is that it might be the first time in human history that we aren’t claiming a place where people already live. That’s comforting, I guess. Doesn’t mean we aren’t repeating old mistakes though. People are already petitioning to build single-family domes out beyond the main complex. Did we really come so far just to build more suburbs?

Speaking of suburbs—I thought Arizona was dusty. This place IS dust. Even with all the filters, my boogers are so brown I had to stop eating them. They’re all crunchy now.

And the air smells bad. It’s recycled through the air scrubbers so it smells like ozone and my roommate’s sweaty-ass exo-suit. I swear to God he’s the sweatiest human being I’ve ever encountered. It’s not even hot!

We eat nutrient mush for every meal up here. Occasionally with salt. I miss Indian food. And Mexican food. Good pizza. Real coffee. Weed. We got our first apples this season and everyone was so excited to try them. They tasted like shit. Fuck this place.

Every once in a while Elon comes by in his fucking Mars Roamer. He’s the only person that has one. What a smug bastard. He’s the most awkward, douchy, weirdo but I swear he’s fucking just about every woman here. He’s going to be the Ghengis Khan of Mars and I haven’t gotten laid since that one time with Lisa on the trip over.

Both women in our dome told me they just want to be friends. There’s literally no one else, so…I guess I’m Single Eric on Mars.

I set up a Bumble profile but there’s no “Mars” location yet so I only ever match with women on Earth. They all say it’s so hot that I live on Mars. They say they would totally hook up with me if I was back on Earth. Sure, Melissa. They never used to say things like that when I actually was back on Earth. Must be a fun little fantasy—to imagine yourself dating a guy who’s 250 million miles away so there’s no chance you’ll ever meet. At least I’ve gotten a few nudes.

I started an OnlyFans—not for sexy stuff—just showing people back on Earth what I’m doing out here. I actually make a ton of money on it, but…there’s nothing to buy here. Literally, we don’t have an economy. Everything we make just gets distributed around to the other domes because otherwise we’d probably all die. I sent my dad $300k and told him to buy a ridiculous car for me. He sent a pic of him driving it down the Strip in Vegas with the top down and two women in the back seat.

I am filled with regret.

It’d be so easy to end this. Every day I think about stepping outside without my suit and quietly freeze-sphyxiating to death. But something always stops me.

Is it because Jarrod still owes me a nitro pop? Or because one of Elon’s concubines winked at me and I think I’ve got a chance of nailing her behind his back? Could be either (those nitro pops are the only good food on Mars).

Or it might be something deeper—like the animal urge to prove that fucker Ricky wrong.

Right before I left Ricky told me I was an idiot and it was going to be terrible on Mars. He was absolutely right, but will I ever admit it? Not on your life. I will keep sending upbeat videos of me fixing hydroponics back to Earth until the day my organs fail because there’s not enough gravity here. Fuck you, Ricky, Mars forever!

Richard Johnson
I’m a Boomer and while most of my vast retirement holdings are safely tucked away in index funds, REITs, or invested with my friend’s family office, that’s all pretty boring. So I asked my grandson to buy me some of those ether coins. And the dog coins too, for Martha.

Stan Sanchez
I’m a Gen Xer and I was high during kinda like the whole early web so, yeah, I’m trying to get into this latest shit now that I’ve got money. Maybe I can retire like 2 years early if this pans out. Who knows?

Lisa Hutson-Jones
I’m an early millennial and I thought the internet was a utopian playland at first (missed out on the domains thing) and then I was too lazy to learn to code and launch any of the 3057 app ideas I had so….yeah, NFTs I guess.

Brondo Forelift
I’m a late millennial and I finally have a job that pays me enough that I can invest a little and Reddit says this shit is going to the MOOOOOOOOOON so YOLO! (This better fucking work or I’m fucked.)

Cran Seus
I’m a Zennial and for real what kind of question is that? Why WOULDN’T I invest in crypto? Are you kidding? This is the biggest thing ever. DeFi is the future and if you don’t get in now you’re ngtm! Crypto is seriously revolutionary. Decentralization is going to change our whole society and government and like everything. Check my Tiktok if you’re ready for the red pill.

Elon Winklevoss
I’m a Billionaire/Famous Public Figure and I can make a nice tidy profit by pumping and dumping this shit on all the other folks you’ve spoken with. By the way, sign up for my newsletter if you want the inside scoop on my next big play (before the masses pile in).

Luke Winston
I’m a software dev and I started mining bitcoin like 8 years ago so at this point I’m just trying to time my exit so I can quit my soul-sucking job at Cloud Bullshit Megacorp and move onto a yacht.

Prefer Not to Say
I’m a member of the House Financial Services Committee and I’m stocking up so I can sell the day before we announce the bill that’s going to bring the hammer down on all of this wild west nonsense.

*Redacted*
I’m at the FBI and I buy crypto so that we can offer people illegal shit and then match the wallets involved in the transactions up with all the smartass crimers in our database. Gotta love a currency where transactions are public!

Who me?
Oh, I’m buying crypto because I’m a human man who is, of course, entranced by the lure of easy money and completely unable to deal with this level of FOMO. I blame Twitter.

Now that we’re clear on that, let me tell you that I’ve been doing some serious research. I perused several related articles and may have even skimmed an honest-to-god book about this shit. Here’s where I name-drop some well-known pop-sci figures who are hated by real academics: Yuval Noah Harari! Malcolm Gladwell!

In the course of my research, I found several alarming statistics that, upon close scrutiny, do not prove my point. But here they are anyway please don’t think too hard. I’m the one doing the thinking here. Aren’t these statistics super shocking? 95.6%!

After I sat in coffee shops for days mulling over this pressing issue, I came to a stark realization: No one is human except for me and you are all living unhappy counterfeit lives. I believe that all of you would be better served if you stopped most of the things you’re currently doing and started doing things that I approve of. Or maybe keep doing your regular things, but do them in a way I think I invented but which is not, it turns out, particularly original. I don’t really know, but definitely throw some of your old stuff away and stop looking at your goddamn phone so much.

I am glad that everyone is now aware of this super huge flaw in our civilization. Fortunately, all of your brains have now been exposed to my genius solution which I’m sure will compel you to change for the better. I anticipate a sea change and/or paradigm shift in the near future. Possibly a revolution. That’s the only way to avert disaster and realize my idealized vision. In the meantime, I’ll be back at my house doing some important thinking. Follow me on Twitter.

Startling news for the inhabitants of Earth this afternoon: Astronomers have spotted an asteroid on a direct collision course with the Earth. To be clear, this is cause for alarm.

And it gets worse! Based on careful calculations performed by highly regarded astrosexualists, the asteroid is going to hit the Earth right in the G-spot.

That’s right. Our little blue planet has a G-spot and that phallic-looking space rock is totally gonna crush it.

Due to our pathetic lack of experience, no one knows what will happen when Earth’s G-spot gets rocked by a mile-wide space-peen. But there is some cause for hope.

A New Age Energy Healer we spoke with in Sedona, AZ told us that Gaia has not had a proper orgasm in eons. Mother Earth has needs and they are not being met. It follows that a bit of planetary sexual fulfillment could have a positive impact.

In support of this theory, our research found that the last time Momma Tierra got any real action was approximately 66 million years ago. That’s a serious drought! And you thought 6 months of failed Tinder dates was bad.

That’s why some sexperts we found on Twitter believe it’s possible that this casual hookup could release a form of Orgasmic Earth Energy and trigger a golden age of evolution and advancement as all life bathes in the afterglow of intergalactic poon tang.

But it could also trigger the collapse of civilization as our life-giving planet is shrouded in ash for a thousand years during a prolonged stage of post-coital depression and regret.

Or maybe we’ll all be burned to death by rivers of lava because the Earth is a squirter.

Who knows!?

Needless to say, we need answers. Responding to that call, the world’s greatest interplanetary sex theorists are gathering in Geneva later this month to discuss the possibilities. They will have data, charts, diagrams, and hopefully, elaborate video renderings. We will be there watching the action very closely (and recording it on our phones, for later).

Fortunately, we do have several years to prepare before the G-Rock arrives to give our Mother the pounding she deserves.

Rick Guile, a self-styled survivalist we interviewed at a gas station, told us that everyone should dig themselves an underground bunker and fill it with ammunition. “It’s the only way you’re gonna live through an event like this,” he said, before hauling himself up into his lifted Ford F150 Super Duty Crew Cab truck and roaring out into the street without looking both ways.

We might take that advice. An underground bunker could be cool, even if it caves in due to massive, shuddering, shock-waves of love. At least we would die knowing our Mother was pleased.

Whether you choose to prepare or simply wait it out, the fact remains: We will all be present as our Great Mother gets reamed by a primordial lance from the depths of the void.

We shall bask in glowing light and rise to a new dawn! Or, possibly, recoil in horror as well all turn to dust and ash. Either way, what a time to be alive!

So hot. So sexy. So tempting. You’re thirsty for it.

You’ve been deep into Forrester’s research. Now you want to get way up in that Gartner Magic Quadrant.

Well babe, now’s the time to step on the gas, rev the engine, and open that kimono.

Once your transformation to digital is complete the possibilities are endless.

You know your whole IT department is obsessed with it. Your CIO can’t stop talking about it. He’s always dropping hints, even at the all-hands meetings. Just putting it out there in front of everyone. We can only imagine what’s on his hard drive.

We know that you’re dying to do some business. We can do business anywhere. That’s the beauty of this digital world. If you can dream it, we can do it.

You want a private cloud? Sure thing, honey.

Or would you like to come over to our cloud? One-click deployment, baby.

Or maybe we could partner up for a little hybrid cloud business? How does that sound? Maybe a little multi-could situation would be more to your liking.

Or perhaps…perhaps you’re into some old-school, on-prem business, hmmm? Think about it: Massive server racks. Tight dongles. Thick fiber optic bundles throbbing with heavy data loads. Feels like it’s getting hot in here. Gonna have to upgrade those cooling towers again.

No matter your preference, we’ve got all the right connections. We’ll transform your business in ways you’ve never even imagined.

Why don’t you come out to our conference in Vegas? Drain your IT budget into hot young startups.

It’s the biggest event of the year for people who are into DT. People like you. People like us. All the biggest players will be there, and you know they’re well equipped to provide the servicing you need. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone. Someone exciting. Someone expensive…

When it comes to digital, it doesn’t matter what you’re into ‘cause we’ve got it all. Digital transformation. Cloud business. Immutable infrastructure. All tied up with the blockchain.

You know our APIs are incredibly flexible, and our service model dominates the industry. You’ve always wanted to partner up with a dominant player. Now’s your chance.

Don’t worry, everything is completely secure and private. What are you waiting for big shot? Let’s get things growing. It’s transformation time.

1. First things first: Clearly God doesn’t favor China because it sucks. That’s why I’m never going there. Same goes for Russia.
   

2. God loves liberty and we have the official Statue of Liberty right out there for everyone to see. It’s like the first thing at the entrance of America. Who else has that? No one, I think!
   

3. Some European countries may have really beautiful old cathedrals but we have Mega Churches. You can’t beat Mega Churches. They are the biggest and best. Our has a Starbucks in it (that’s God’s favorite coffee).
   

4. The Bible clearly says (somewhere—John maybe? Paul?) that America is the land of promise. And we all know that the US is the actual “America”.
   

5. I mean God Himself basically wrote our Constitution. And He hand-selected our Founding Fathers. Except for Benjamin Franklin—I heard he was a man-whore.
   

6. Wealth and worldly success, though tainted with sin, are still blessings and a sign of God’s love for us. The US of A is home to the richest people in the whole world, so what does that tell you? (God loves us, that’s what.)
   

7. Pizza Hut, ok? Coca Cola. BBQ. In-N-Out Burger. Chick-fil-A! That’s God’s own chicken chain! Come on it’s obvious—we’ve got God’s food here. What do other countries even eat? Beans? Nuts? I don’t think some countries even have food. We have more food than any of us could ever eat! That’s God’s love right there!
   

8. Really the only other place that could compete with us is the Holy Land, right? But we’re ahead of them because they killed Jesus. Huge strike against them for that one.
   

9. And speaking of strikes, we invented baseball. And football. And basketball. And NASCAR. The only popular sport we didn’t invent is soccer (dumb). And cricket I guess. What the fuck is cricket anyway? God hates cricket.
   

10. We have the most roads.
    

11. Do you really need any more reasons here? Fine. I’ve got plenty: First to land on the Moon (that was real because we did it). Most nukes. Most guns. Most cars. Most Olympic Medals (probably). Biggest houses. And most expensive houses! We don’t have the tallest building here anymore but the new ones are stupid and I’m sure we’re building taller ones right now. Best mountains. Best beaches. Best music, movies, and TV. Nashville. Texas. Los Angeles (CITY OF ANGELS). Plus, those Tesla cars are here AND the internet is basically all us. Do you even see any foreign people doing anything on there? Not on my Facebook I don’t!

The horse attached to that eye was wreathed in shadow, its sleek black body nearly invisible in the dark confines of my windowless bathroom.

“Excuse me, horse,” I said politely. “I have to pee.”

The horse snorted and continued to give me that odd, side-eyed stare horses give you because they can’t really look directly at things with both eyes at the same time.

The horse did not move.

“Ok. I’ll use the other bathroom,” I muttered. Thank Zeus for two-bath houses.

When I got up again in the morning I remembered the horse but assumed it was a dream. That would make sense because horses don’t break into houses and lurk in people’s bathrooms. That’s just not how the world works.

However, upon inspection of the bathroom, the horse was still there. I tried to touch it to see if it was real and it tried to bite me.

I had to admit it. The horse was real. Either that or I was on some amazing drugs. Whichever way, something had to be done because the horse was making sounds.

Most horses make sounds like, “neigh-eigh-eigh!” or “whinny!” This horse was making sounds like, “UNG-ZERGrrrrrrrrrrGURRRRR!” and “SSSSSSssssssssSSHHHHHH—ROP!”

I’m no expert, but I know an evil horse sound when I hear it. These were evil horse sounds. I was worried the horse might be trying to summon another evil horse to join it. Or maybe call forth its demonic rider from the depths of Hades.

I needed backup.

Fortunately, there’s a Horse Girl living at my house, so I asked her to come help. “Do you think you could get this evil horse out of our bathroom?” I asked.

She acted confident about her horse-removal abilities. She put on some really long riding boots, her sharpest spurs, and a helmet (for safety). Then she grabbed her whip and the spare saddle she keeps by the bed and she walked right into that fairly small bathroom to face down the evil horse.

What a brave woman.

For a long time, the bathroom was eerily silent. While I waited for something to happen, I made some coffee.

Suddenly, pandemonium from the bathroom! Shouting, stamping hooves, the crack of the whip, evil neighing, more shouts, and was that—yes, the sound of an evil horse voiding its bowels into the bathtub.

Horse Girl leaped out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. “Goddamn that’s an evil horse,” she said. Her shirt was torn, and her hair was mussed. “There’s nothing I can do.”

I peaked into the bathroom. The evil horse was floating in the air, bumping against the ceiling, its glowing eyes smoldering in the way that evil eyes always smolder, staring down at me.

The smell from the bathtub was deeply unpleasant. Not your normal pungent but grassy horse poo smell. This was meaty.

I hastily googled “horse exterminator near me”. No results. Damn it!

This must be a pro-horse town.

After that, I tried everything I could think of to get rid of that god-forsaken horse.

I tried calling to it softly. I tried angry yelling. I tried to lure it out with treats (not interested in apples, slightly interested in some old hamburger meat I had in the fridge—but not enough to come out). I tried begging and also pleading. I tried a bunch of ancient curses and spells I found in old Tumblr posts. I sacrificed a lamb and painted its blood over the door. I sat naked in a pentagram for three days and nights, chanting, emploring the Old Gods to remove their evil from my home. Nothing.

Finally, I tried to smoke it out by pumping poison gas under the door.

But the evil horse remains. It is implacable and immune to chlorine gas.

It’s been a week now and Horse Girl and I have settled into an uneasy truce with the evil horse. We stay out of that bathroom and the evil horse stays in it.

Occasionally, when the sounds get too loud, we bring it food. It won’t eat hay, but we figured out that it loves those hot dogs from Costco. That’s fine because they’re pretty cheap and you can buy them in bulk.

I very much want to get this evil horse out of the bathroom. It kind of ruined the dinner party I hosted on Friday (someone walked in on it), and that bathtub isn’t really draining anymore. The smell is escalating quickly.

Please, if you know anyone who’s handy with horses, or maybe has a cross-shaped rifle with silver bullets, PLEASE let me know. I want my bathroom back.

Let’s get started!

First, we’re going to dive in and learn the truth about coffee, blood, sugar, libido, and how maple syrup changes everything. We’re talking total deep dive. Mariana Trench-level deepness.

Plus there’s more. Tons more. SO MUCH MORE.

Keep reading and you’ll learn an incredible new way to hack your bone marrow to produce synthetic antibiotics using an ancient herb known only to one uncontacted Amazonian tribe.

Then, continue scrolling through this manic word salad to find out how we earned $10k in one weekend using nothing but a top hat and a live duck. Anyone can do this! At least, anyone who can catch a duck can do this. That part is actually kind of tricky. P.S. Ducks bite.

ONWARD

Do you want the secret to successfully earning super huge stacks of cash from a tropical paradise so you can live like a king among the impoverished locals? Again, just keep reading! That is in here somewhere.

But first, let’s take a break to appreciate these mind-blowingly cute and also delicious-looking enchiladas that are sure to brighten your day:

{note: find enchilada photos before pub date}

Time for a Quick Quiz!

Which is better:

1. Coke

2. Pepsi

3. Swiss Miss

4. In-N-Out

Make your choice and prepare to viciously defend your opinion against internet strangers in the comments section! They are wrong! Kill them with your word guns!

NOW: Cleanse your timeline with these pics of hot men who have figured out how to dress and groom themselves. Never before seen!

Boom! Fashiongasm!

Still reading? Great. Thanks for sticking with us.

Please like and subscribe and share and follow and check out our Patreon and please send us some money we do not get paid to do this and we have not eaten anything besides coffee in three days.

But! We can teach you how to earn an amazing living as a Digital Creator. Yes, that’s another thing we’re including here in this viral post. You MUST know these secrets. Do not stop moving your eyes across our words.

Speaking of words, look at that. We’ve hit 400 already. Welp, quotas up so it’s time to share our Ultimate Viral Secret Christian Life Hack! (Atheists hate it.)

Scientists have discovered a new way of worshiping God that’s proven to produce 68% more blessings for you and anyone you say you’ll send prayers to on Facebook. The results are truly astounding.

How does it work? It’s easy! To start the process all you have to do is share this post with 2 people (but if you share it with more people it will work even better—some really wild sharers have seen blessing increases of over 129%!)

Share

Once you’re done sharing, sign up for our email newsletter and we’ll tell you the rest. You won’t believe it!

Now, they sit at their kitchen tables, coughing specks of blood onto small mountains of medical bills that their absurdly expensive insurance refused to pay. Many of them are thinking the same thing: I know it is, but this kinda doesn’t feel like the best healthcare system on Earth.

But perhaps there is hope.

Industry observers are reporting an interesting new trend in US healthcare. Doctors working deep within that shadowy system have started recommending a revolutionary new approach: Telling their patients to move to Europe.

One doctor we spoke with described the moment he realized a little Euro trip could really benefit a patient: “I was advising a patient and I said something like, ‘Well Mary, you have a mild form of ovarian cancer. We can, of course, pursue a treatment plan here in this American hospital. But, you could also move to Europe for six months, get the same treatment, tan your tits on the beach, and save about $50k even after paying for two residences.’”

He continued: “As soon as I said it, I knew I should be recommending Europe to more of my patients. I mean, treatment at my clinic, even for a mild headache, costs at least 50x more than it would in say, Germany.”

Many doctors are drawing the same conclusions. Dr. Mark Dieslehof said it was his oath as a physician that compelled him to at least mention the European option.

“Yeah, my typical approach is something like, ‘While prescribing you this drug will help me make payments on my Maserati, I am bound by that doctor’s oath thing to advise you that this course of treatment is free in Canada, Mexico, Brazil, and basically everywhere in Europe. So, should we go ahead?’”

Dr. Dieslehof paused to laugh for several minutes. Once he regained his composure he went on, “Most people do go ahead though. I think it’s because foreign countries are scary places and they think the Maserati is really cool.”

Dr. Melissa Almondsauce says she typically compares US medical expenses to European housing costs to help patients understand the relative difference. The comparison is often unfavorable. “I told one patient, ‘Yes, there are a few insurance plans that do cover this type of treatment, just, yours isn’t one of them. So, your total comes to roughly one Italian Villa.’”

While she spoke, Dr. Almondsauce casually spun a small revolver around on her desk. “It’s pretty depressing,” she said.

Patients are also waking up to the medical tourist option and some of them are bringing it up with their providers. Stephanie Whistletute of Canton, Ohio was recently diagnosed with a chronic condition that requires expensive, ongoing treatment. So she asked her doctor about Europe.

Whistletute explained what happened. “He said that with insurance this drug costs around $1000 a month. It goes up a little every year, and you will need to take it for the rest of your life.”

“So I asked him about Europe. You know what he told me?” She paused dramatically. “He said something like yes, it’s free in Europe but to get it you’d have to leave Canton and live in a socialist hell hole like Berlin, Paris, Madrid, London, Rome, Lisbon, Amsterdam, or one of those shitty little towns in the Swiss Alps.”

Whistletute now lives in Dörkunthaven, Switzerland, where she receives free healthcare even though she is not a Swiss citizen.

“I think the United States is too poor to help people,” she said, “But I guess the Swiss aren’t.”

So what should you take away from all this? Our advice is simple: If you get sick, ask your doctor about Europe1.

Please proceed with the survey:

• On a scale of 0 to 10 with 0 being super unlikely and 10 being crazy likely, how likely are you to recommend our brand to a friend or colleague?

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• Was there anything missing or disappointing in your most recent experience with our brand?

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• Would you be more likely to recommend our brand if you had cooler, hotter friends or colleagues?

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• Do you think you would fit in with cool, hot people?

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• Would you like a rep to contact you about getting a cooler, hotter social circle?

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• What if your new friends had access to the latest party drugs?

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• Have you ever used party drugs?

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• If yes briefly describe what it’s like to get high at a cool party:

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• Would the party have been cooler if it was hosted at the biggest mansion you’ve ever seen?

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• Did you “hook up” with anyone at/after the party you attended?

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• Would you say “hooking up” is something people commonly do when they go to big, cool parties?

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• Would you say “hooking up” is something you would be open to doing at a big, cool party? (By “hooking up” we mean having penetrative sex, not just a little make-out or whatever.)

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• Are you a woman between the ages of 24 to 29 who would describe herself as petite and submissive?

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  If NO, your survey is complete. We appreciate your honest feedback!

  If YES, please continue below:

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• On a scale of 0 to 10 with 0 being gross and 10 being super hot, how hot are bald guys?

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• What if the bald guy happened to be the richest man in the world? Would that affect your rating?

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• Would you be interested in partying with our brand’s Founder and Executive Chairman?

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• Please attach 1 RECENT non-deceptive FULL BODY photo.
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Damn girl. Listen, I’ll just come right out and say it, ok? This is Jeff Bezos. I made this survey because even though I’m the world’s richest man, it’s hard to meet sexy, fun, petite, submissive women who don’t judge me for not feeding the homeless or whatever. I HAVE A LOT OF MONEY AND I WANT TO ENJOY IT! What’s the harm in that??!

So, if you wanna party at my gigantic mansion, do some cool party drugs, and probably end up fucking IN SPACE, put your number in the form and my people will get in touch.

See you soon,

Jeff 😘

Thank you for your time, we appreciate your honest feedback!

First of all, the drawing they posted online looks pretty much exactly like me. I’m a white guy with a beard though, and we all kinda look the same, so that could be a coincidence.

But check this out: The suspected murderer in the show lives on my street. Even more suspiciously, they live AT MY ADDRESS. Now, I’m not sure when this crime happened, so it could be the guy who lived here before, but I’ve been here for like 15 years now so it could also be me.

Ok, I listened to the most recent episode and I guess this murder happened last week. Interesting.

Maybe I should tone down the drinking because I’m starting to think that I’ve done some stuff while I was blacked out that I probably should not have done. Like I was doing my laundry the other day and there was definitely someone else’s clothes mixed in there.

How did that outfit get in my laundry even though I live alone in a state of social isolation? I don’t know. Why does the shirt have maroon stains on it that won’t come out with regular Tide Ultra Clean? That’s concerning.

Now, I wouldn’t call myself a criminal but I have witnessed a few crimes being committed. Mostly little stuff like speeding, jaywalking, and lying for political gain, but I’ve also seen a few bigger crimes like transporting bricks of cocaine, stealing 20 cars, and choking a man to death in an alley. But that’s all stuff that anyone would see if they grew up in my hood! This is Chicago after all, haha.

Ok, this is getting crazy. I was listening to the show on the way to work this morning, and they were saying that the suspect may have thrown the body into their trunk when they fled the scene. Well, I ran over a pothole right after that and when I did I heard a distinct *thump* that sounded like something large and fleshy in my trunk.

It gets worse! I got to work and went around to check the trunk and guess what? There’s a dead guy in there! Holy shit!

I’m starting to panic. But, the host of the show actually had some really good ideas about evading law enforcement. The suspect in this case happens to have dual US and Canadian citizenship (just like me!). So it’d be easy for them to cross the Northern border. So hypothetically this murderer could acquire a different vehicle, transfer the body, and then drive up to some remote part of the great frozen North.

Man! These guys are really on it. I’m listening to the latest episode in my new ride (a pea soup green Dodge Dart) and they are describing that exact vehicle as being stolen from a parking lot near my neighborhood! I really hate this story now, but I just can’t stop listening!

Whew. Made it across the border. Now I’m home free. Good thing border agents don’t stay up-to-date on true-crime podcasts!

Wait a minute, what’s this? There’s someone blocking the road, trying to flag me down! Holy shit, that looks like John and Mary from the podcast! I’ll roll down my window and see (I can’t believe it!).

“Hey, are you John Hammerstyle from the Crime Time Podcast?”

“Uh, yeah. Wait, how’d you know that?”

“I love your show!”

“You do?”

“Of course! How could I not? Your voice and narrative style, it’s magnetic.”

“Yeah but like — ”

“I know, I know. It’s weird cause you guys think I’m the murderer right?”

“Well…Yes.”

“Yeah, I totally get that. Like I didn’t think I was the murderer until I started getting into your show, but now I’m pretty sure you guys were right.”

“So, you are the murderer?”

“Yeah, fairly certain. Like 95% confident. I mean that dead guy is wrapped up in the trunk right now and everything.”

“Oh fuck. Holy shit.”

“Uh-huh. So like, here’s the deal, John. This is a Glock 9, ok? And it has bullets in it. I don’t want to get on any more murder podcasts, so what I’m going to need you and Mary to do is get in the car right now.

But — hey hold on — grab your podcasting gear, ok? You guys can record the final episode from the back seat and wrap this whole thing up. I can’t wait to hear the ending!”

Ok, that’s a little bit of a fib, but the percentage really is significantly higher than my erection threshold. This is definitely about me, is what I’m saying. You are a very beautiful standard human woman.

Seriously. I should be rock hard right now, Melissa. I know it’s disappointing, especially since you bet Amy $500 you could get railed by the Android.

Well yeah, of course I heard that. I have cybernetically enhanced hearing babe. That’s kind of the deal with Androids. We are enhanced. Don’t worry, I’m not offended.

Trust me, I’d love to show you the full extent of my enhancements, if you know what I mean. Which you do, since bragging about them is kind of my main play.

Really, Melissa, I would love to give you a ride on the Whirling Dervish. Or surprise you with the Double Jack. Maybe bring out the Dragon Lance once we get really into it. It’s just...right now I’m stuck in floppy mode.

I know we’re in Vegas and things got kinda crazy tonight, but my body contains advanced alcohol processing functionality. This has got to be some kind of software malfunction. I’m filling a support ticket through my neuro-link right now. Maybe they can send an over-the-air update and get this show back on the RAILroad, haha.

And we can still mess around, you know. Just because I can’t get things going downstairs doesn’t mean you have to miss out. I can make my hands vibrate at up to 300 bpm. See? Droid-men are thoughtful lovers just like all the other men out there.

Oh. You have to use the bathroom? Of course, no worries, go right ahead!

Oh wow, you’re totally puking in there. Hey, let me hold your normal human hair back.

It’s okay, don’t worry. Looks like we both have our little troubles tonight. You probably shouldn’t have ingested so much of that lobster bisque. I didn’t think that would pair well with seven shots of rye whiskey, but I didn’t want to say anything. Not my place to droid-splain your dining decisions!

Anyway, I’m sorry that I couldn’t engage my sexual fuck-tions. Haha, ya like that one? But yeah, I guess it was for the best since you were about to puke anyway. My dermal enhancements are pretty sensitive, so that could have been kind of a disaster for me.

Anyway, you wanna go back to bed?

Ok. Yeah, I mean you’re welcome to stay over here in my room and cuddle or whatever. But if you’d prefer to head back to yours that’s fine too, of course.

Oh hey, before you go, if you want me to help with the bet I can engage my health analysis function to excrete a little semen for you to dab in your hair or something. Like so Amy will believe you did the deed?

No? Ok. Cool cool. Well…goodnight Melissa. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow for day two of AndroCon. Who knows, maybe we can try again!

“Ok, I mean, Paul Bunyan is a classic hero of American folklore. You don’t know this? He traveled around with a big blue ox named Babe, and he could chop down trees faster than anyone else.”

“Chop down trees.”

“Yes.”

“This guy’s heroic ability is deforestation?”

“Uh. Well, yeah, pretty much.”

“Ok. So what’s his story arc? He’s out there turbo-logging the virgin forests of North America and then what?”

“Well, he starts out clearing land for his hometown to expand, then for farmland, and he keeps going out West from there. Like he clears all the trees off of North and South Dakota, digs the Mississippi to send logs South, and basically becomes the Ultimate Lumberjack.

But then he gets beaten in a competition by a steam-powered saw contraption and he retires from logging, never to be seen again.”

“Ok wait. The story is that Mr. Mega Logger is out there fueling America’s westward expansion by clear-cutting forests until he loses out to a machine that can destroy the environment even faster? And then he quits?”

“Um, yeah, that’s the gist of it. Those are common themes in our folklore. Like John Henry raced against a steam-powered rock drilling machine to see who could clear out the most rock for a train tunnel. He won but he died from the exertion.”

“He DIED?”

“Yeah. Like he won the race but then he died from the stress, with his hammer still in his hand. He’s…another character we wanted to have in the show.”

“This guy worked himself to death trying to compete for his job against the power of industrial mechanization deployed by capitalist rail barons?”

“Well when you put it like that it doesn’t sound super inspiring, does it? But, ya know, maybe that’s why he was a hero. Cause he was fighting against the Man?”

“Sure. Kill yourself fighting to prove your worth as a human in the soulless grind of industrialization. Great. You got any more folk heroes you want to have in this inspirational cartoon for children?”

“Um, well, we had Pecos Bill on the list but we think he might be too much of a serial killer.”

“What?”

“I mean, he was kind of like an über cowboy out in Texas. Lassoing tornados and stuff. But you know how Old West cowboys are. They shoot people sometimes. Like his horse was named Widow-Maker.”

“Ok, so this guy was out roping the weather and shooting people in Texas. I’m guessing he was mostly shooting folks like those pesky Native Americans who wanted to keep their land?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, sometimes he shot other cowboys too. And Mexicans.”

“Hard pass. Anyone else?”

“Last one on the list is Alfred Bulltop Stormalong. You’ll like him. He’s a lesser-known character, and he was out on the East Coast and the ocean, so a lot less manifest destiny, murder, oppression, and unchecked resource extraction involved with this one.”

“Ok. That’s nice.”

“He does die after racing a steamboat across the ocean though.”

“Are you for real? Guess this show is just gonna be a warning to children about the threat of technological progress.”

“Haha, yeah. It’s a good modern message. Like, when the AI comes for your job, don’t try to fight it! You’ll die!”

“Haha. Yeah, just accept that you aren’t really necessary. Our machines can destroy the earth without your help.”

“Man, this is gonna be a great show. I think Disney will bite on this for sure.”

It’s a little request. Actually, no. It’s a demand.

I, Thomas, demand that all you internet degenerates stop making porn of me. And trains in general.

Trains are attractive. I get it. We are powerful, domineering, full of burning coal and bubbling steam, and we do make rhythmic sounds that slowly build toward a climactic fury. I can see how that could be sexualized with a little bit of imagination.

But that’s where train sex ought to stay: In the realm of imagination.

You know children love trains, right? Children search for trains, especially me, the most famous and fun of all trains, on Google. Now, because of you demented sickos, there is a real chance that, instead of discovering one of my real-life very fun stories, they will find pics of me bonking Rosie.

And yes, I know what you’re going to say. Rule 34. I know. I am aware that, since I exist, there must be porn of me. There is, ok? You made it. But you need to stop now.

I mean how much train porn do you really need? Enough is enough.

The stuff you’re making isn’t even realistic! For example, there is no way that a steam locomotive could face fuck a grown man in a top hat. It’s just not physically possible.

And even if I could I wouldn’t want to! Sir Topham Hatt is like 40 years older than me. Gross.

Another thing. While I appreciate the depictions of me and my studly train friends as extremely well endowed, this is really not accurate. My horn has been described as ‘adequate’ and your filthy drawings of gigantic train dongs are setting my future partners up for disappointment.

Plus, now I have to deal with passengers trying to find where “it” is so they can take pictures! Come on!

I need you to understand that your highly sexualized imagery (and animation!) is impacting my ability to earn a living. That goes for other trains as well.

Conductors and railroad operators are rightly concerned about the public perceptions of their train cars and no one wants to risk riding in a passenger car that may have been flooded with train cum. Ok?

Let me return to my carefree days as a fun and innocent children’s entertainer instead of cosplaying for you as a lecherous blue sex beast. That’s not what I’m here for! Trains don’t even reproduce that way! We reproduce asexually with the assistance of mechanized factories. It’s not a sexy process at all!

Although come to think of it, there is a lot of pounding and riveting and hammering…Goddamn it. Look at what you’ve done to me!

For the love of God and all that is holy, stop. Please.

Your pal,
Thomas

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From: dan.o@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: Your Free Trial

Hello!

Thanks for trying Glaxx! We hope you’re really enjoying our product a lot.

You’ve got 14 more days left in your free trial. If you haven’t jumped in already, here’s a few fun things you can do with Glaxx:

-Send messages to your friends through the Glaxxosphere

-Make your own animated Glaxx Dancer Avatar

-Connect your crypto wallet and buy invisible real estate

What are you waiting for? Start your Glaxxian journey to wealth and fame today!

Your Glaxxistant,
Dan

From: dan.o@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: How’s it going?

Hi there,

You’ve got 5 days left in your free trial, so I wanted to check in and see how it’s going.

I really hope you are enjoying Glaxx. It is the best app that there is.

My records show that you’ve created a pretty cool looking Glaxx Dancer Avatar—that’s awesome! Have you given a Glaxx Dance to any friends or relatives yet? Try it!

I also show that you haven’t connected your crypto wallet to Glaxx yet. :(

You really need to! Creating wealth by trading invisible real estate with fellow Glaxxians is what Glaxx is all about! It’s the best part! You could be rich really soon!

Your Glaxxistant,
Dan

From: dan.o@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: Time’s almost up!

Hey!

Just one day left of your free trial with Glaxx!

You’re planning to sign up for a paid plan, right? Because you’ve found so much value and had so much fun while using our app? Yes! You have!

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Your Glaxxistant,
Dan

P.S. If you don’t sign up, we get whipped by the Program Manager

From: PM@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: Important Correction

Hello,

Please disregard the last email you received from Glaxx. It contained an unapproved joke created by one of our Glaxxistants, who is happy and well paid and lives voluntarily in our safe and fun work environment.

It is true, however, that your free trial expires today, in 30 minutes. We can see that you currently do not have Glaxx open on your phone, and that you appear to be using our rival app Thlaxx.

You should know that Thlaxx was created by an authoritarian foreign government and will be used to spy on you and sell your sexual secrets.

Also, Glaxx is cheaper. Sign up now!

-Viito
Program Manager

From: dan.o@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: Oh no

You did not sign up for Glaxx during the Free Trial period!

Do you not care about human suffering? And also do you not want to earn millions by participating in our invisible real estate marketplace?

Please consider signing up for Glaxx within the next 56 seconds (before my goals review).

Think of the yacht full of naked men and/or women you could have when you strike it rich in the Glaxxosphere! Think of me not getting beaten to death by the Program Manager in the Soaring Success conference room / blood arena. Help me hit my OKRs!

Please for the love of god

Your Glaxxistant,
Dan

From: PM@glaxxosphere.com
Subject: Welcome!

My fellow Glaxxian,

Welcome! Thank you for joining Glaxx. Though you were too late for the Special End of Free Trial Offer, it’s never too late to make it big in the Glaxxosphere!

You’ll be happy to note that you have a new support rep, Cindy.

Be on the lookout as she’ll be glaxxing you a quick Getting Started video to help get you oriented and irrevocably invested in the hottest invisible real estate assets.

Click here to watch Cindy as she works. Like everything in the Glaxxosphere, it’s fun and voluntary!

Happy Glaxxing,

-Viito
Program Manager

No one wants that!

That’s why I prepared this helpful guide which will show you the exact steps you need to take to build an audience from scratch, today, using only materials that you probably already have at home (assuming you have a home).

Audience Building Supplies

1. Tape

2. Glue

3. Scissors

4. Pens

5. Paper

6. Paper clips

7. Pipe cleaners

8. Googly eyes

9. A sense of whimsy and imagination

10. A desperate drive to succeed at all costs

Audience Building Ideas

One of the easiest audience building methods is The Cutout. Create cutouts of people using your rusty old scissors and any scrap paper you have laying around. Just cut out the shape of a person and you’re done! To make it even easier, skip things like hands, feet, and other detailed anatomical features.

If you’d like a diverse audience, trying cutting people out of cardboard, poster board, newspaper, those annoying mailers, credit card statements, unpaid mortgage bills, Amazon packaging, that giant pile of napkins you saved from food deliveries, or your partner’s vintage Playboys.

If you have a long piece of paper you can fold it up and cut it to make a snowflake-style chain of cutout people holding hands. It’s kinda like having your whole family follow your sly, secondary Facebook page.

Another audience option: Pillow People. Pillow People make a great audience if you are depressed or writing a memoir. Use a body pillow for the body, throw pillows for arms and legs, and a comfy down pillow for the head. Tape, glue, or sew them all together in the general shape of a person and you’re set.

Audience still not big enough? Time to get desperate! Get your hot glue gun and scour your drawers for popsicle sticks. It’s easy to make a small army of stick people by gluing popsicle sticks together and drawing happy smiley faces on them so you can tell they appreciate your content.

Bonus Audience Building Tip: Anything can be a “person” if you put googly eyes on it. ANY THING.

Clothes pins offer another great way to fill out your audience. The side you pinch together to open them totally looks like legs if you stand them up on end, then all you have to do is glue a fuzz ball or any other small round object to the top to make a mindless content consumer—exactly like a real Twitter follower!

Ok, that’s all the audience building ideas I have time to think up right now. I’ve gotta get back to building my own audience! (I’m using lumber I scavenged from behind the Home Depot because I want my audience to last.)

Good luck out there, Creator!

One thing I’ve noticed on the trail is that backpackers fall into distinct categories. Archetypes, if you will. Here are the types I’ve documented so far:

The Corporate Adventurist1

The Corporate Adventurist sacrifices a third of their salary on REI’s altar every year. Their gear is fairly new (funded by that cushy day job), and they’re easy to spot because at least one article of their clothing has a Patagonia logo on it.

The Corporate Adventurist has totally been to that place you’ve heard about. A couple times, actually. Their Instagram is crammed with pics of places like that place you’ve heard about, but they don’t share locations anymore. Too many Unworthy Amateurs started showing up at their favorite hidden gems.

You shouldn’t bother trying to make weekend plans with a Corporate Adventurist. Why would they go on your stupid dinner date to Applebees when they’ve got permits for the Grand Canyon?

The Masochist2

You can always spot a masochist because they look like beef jerky and hike like a sled dog. The Masochist’s typical itinerary involves daily mileage in the double digits. 20 miles? Standard. 50 miles? Hell yeah bro.

Why meander when you could be setting a Fastest Known Time? You don’t buy $150 trail runners just to amble through the woods.

The masochist would like to do that extra side hike (or two). The masochist thinks type 2 fun is the only fun. The masochist will wake you up at 4 am so “we can make the peak before the hail storm hits.”

The main benefit of traveling with The Masochist is that you will see more things because you will hike more miles.

The Old Timer

The Old Timer is carrying a hatchet, a cast iron frying pan, a mess kit, a fishing pole, a saw, something that could be described as a bedroll, and a hundred other things that no one else would carry anymore.

All of that stuff is packed in, strapped to, or dangling from an aluminum external frame pack that weighs nearly 300 lbs (though The Old Timer has never weighed their pack).

The Old Timer loves walking sticks, shuns trekking poles. Carries a pocket knife and actually whittles something with it.

Old Timers don’t do freeze dried backpacker meals because they have a delicious rainbow trout they just caught and gutted and dressed with lemons and herbs that appeared from some hidden side pocket.

The Drag-along

Drag-alongs are the backpackers who don’t want to be backpacking. To identify them, listen for phrases like “what if we just rent a cabin next year?” Or, “I hear Palm Springs is nice.“

They are on this stupid trip because of friendship, camaraderie, and peer pressure. They bought the cheapest gear they could find because they are never doing this again.

Though they may be prone to complaining about little things like bears and frostbite, Drag-alongs deserve respect for putting up with their friends’ completely irrational desire to lug heavy packs through the mountains in the rain.

The Naturalist

The Naturalist would be The Hippy if they were older (but they aren’t). The Naturalist has an eclectic gear collection (nicer if their parents are rich) and their food selection is vegetable based.

Naturalists congregate in ski towns and beach towns, and when you meet them you’ll wonder if they live out of that backpack full time.

The Naturalist will most certainly be getting naked in the hot spring. And the lake. And every other body of water. The Naturalist might have dreadlocks. The Naturalist definitely has drugs.

The Gear Guy

The Gear Guy would like to show you their brand new Garmin UltraSat 9.0 Tracker Watch ($15,499). It comes with a satellite that tracks them from space and watches them sleep.

The Gear Guy has an experimental tent that weighs 3 oz. Their pack employs some type of anti-gravity technology. They are trying not to make comments about how old your crappy gear is and they are not always succeeding. They are suggesting you get this new graphene buck knife that costs $489 because dude it could cut a bear in half but it weighs less than an ant.

Closely related sub-type: The Ultralighter (a Gear Guy who’s entirely obsessed with the weight of every item on their person)

And that about wraps things up! Recognize yourself in some of these backpacker types? Leave a comment and tell me who you are!

This one took place while I was in Brazil being a missionary1. I was there for 2 years and during that time we focused pretty much 100% on sharing the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ™.

No TV, no movies, no internet, and most especially no dating.

Day off for laundry and futebol every Monday. Otherwise, all mission, all the time.

Missionaries always go in pairs, or sometimes threesomes when the numbers don’t work out. So I always had another guy (my “companion”) with me 24/7.2 The only privacy you get is in the bathroom. It’s an introvert’s nightmare. Lucky for me, I’m not an introvert.

So we’re out there pitching Mormon Jesus to the good people of Brazil one day, and my companion and I run across a couple girls as we’re walking through the neighborhood. Missionaries are supposed to talk to basically everyone they see, but of course, some people are easier to approach than others.

It turns out these girls are sisters and they live nearby. The older of the pair is pretty close to our age (20ish). She’s also pretty interested in having a couple of charming American boys over to the house.

I don’t remember the details, but we got ourselves invited over to have lunch with the family.

When we arrive, it turns out that the family is the two girls and their mother. This is bad, because missionaries aren’t allowed to be inside alone with women. There’s supposed to be another man around. That rule is there, obviously, to prevent us from gangbanging the people we’re supposed to bring to Christ.

We suggest eating at the table they have out on a little patio in their yard so we don’t have to be inside. Orgy averted. Whew.

So we’re there, chatting with their mom and definitely not flirting with her daughters.

They serve us each a giant plate of rice and beans and sausage or beef or something. I distinctly remember it was a huge mound of food.

My companion, not at all looking to show off, asks if they’ve got any hot sauce. They do!

The São Paulo region isn’t known for spicy food, but this shit seems potent. It’s homemade: A little jar of chili peppers that have been marinating in oil for who knows how long.

Well, my man has a plan to bring these ladies to Jesus, and he goes to town with this hot sauce. Just blasts it all over his food mountain until it’s dripping down like lava.

I, the responsible “senior” companion (I’d been out longer), show some restraint and apply a few dashes. A rare moment of reason on my part.

Now we’re all eating. The food is great. I really enjoy Brazilian food, but it also helps that we are young men and we walk 10 to 15 miles every day. We are always hungry.

A few minutes pass, and my man is getting the sweats. Turns out the aged chili oil of mysterious provenance is actually pretty hot. Very hot. He starts tearing up a bit—and that’s when he makes a critical mistake.

He rubs his eyes. He rubs his eyes with the very same hands he used to open and pour out the chili oil (he should have brought backup hands).

Turns out the lid had chili death oil all over it. So his hands had chili death oil all over them. So when he went to wipe his manly man tears the oil seized the opportunity and stabbed him in the eyes with a million tiny capsaicin knives.

“Ahhhhhhh I can’t seeeee!” He yelled in a distinctly unimpressive to ladies sort of way.

Someone guided our newly blind friend into the bathroom so he could spend the next 20 minutes trying to wash his eyes out, semi-successfully.

Some of us may have had a laugh at his expense while we finished our food. When he made it back out, he couldn’t eat any more of his lava mound because it instantly turned on the chili tears.

And that, my friend, is why Mormon Missionaries will never flirt with you—because God always has his finger over that spicy, spicy smite button.

To maximize your post-hike medical bills/funeral just follow this handy guide:

First off, DON'T START EARLY! Sure, the coolest time of day is in the hour before dawn, but who wants to get up then? Idiots, that's who. Get your beauty sleep and show up to the trailhead when the Blazing Eye of Ra is directly overhead.

Don't bring enough (or maybe any) water! Before you head out, just chug a Dasani. Dehydration only happens to people in movies! This is America and it's impossible to die of thirst here.🇺🇸

NEVER plan your route or carry a map. Knowing where you're going is overrated and makes your hike less fun! Hiking is about the joy of discovery and getting lost, so winging it is your best bet.

Plus maps are for wimps.

Go alone! Hiking is about SOLITUDE. It's an introspective journey where you learn about Humanity's Connection with Nature. So by all means, roll solo.

Bonus Points: Don't tell anyone where you are going or how long you are supposed to be gone.👋

DO NOT bring any sort of FOOD!

1. Food is heavy.

2. Eating while hiking is a great way to get stomach cramps and end up barfing on a rattlesnake.

Energy bars, gels, goos, and other such products are all scams created by Big Sporting Goods to take your $$$.

👏IGNORE👏YOUR👏BODY👏

Mouth super dry? Getting a headache? Stopped sweating?

These are all signs that you are getting a killer workout!

"Heatstroke" is just a joke we made up to scare Midwesterners and not a thing that can definitely kill you for real.

DON'T call off your hike once you realize it's a bad idea! Brunch is for the weak. So are pools.

Yes it's 108 degrees already and for some reason no one else is out here, but a plan is a plan damn it! If it results in a helicopter rescue & embarrassing news coverage/my death, SO BE IT!

Ok, that's it! Happy Hiking! 🏜

Need more emails? May I suggest:

Innocently Macabre is a weekly newsletter of short fiction for those who love speculative fiction, horror, and the weird and wonderful. For starters, follow along with the secretive, wondrous, and oddity-rich lives of the residents of Due North, or try Within and Without, the cautiously surrealistic tale of a dying last breath undoing the past half-century.

Please think that one over, ok? Looking forward to visiting you at Berkley.

Love,
Dad