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Fresh Hell

The best dispatches from our grim new reality

Let it Bleed

In a shocking literalization of the USA’s victimization of its young, a tech billionaire has harvested his son for blood in his quest to attain eternal youth. Literal human vampire Bryan Johnson, forty-five, has elevated his gambit against Father Time from living on a vegan diet and sleeping hooked up to a machine that tells him how many erections he gets in a night to swapping blood with his seventeen-year-old son, a plasma-replacement procedure, the utterly unscientific background of which has not dissuaded the elder Johnson—who claims to have fired his binge-eating alter ego “Evening Bryan” the same night he decided to eat his offspring—from pursuing longevity at the expense of young Talmage (because that’s right, his son is named Talmage, which we hasten to point out is not a name). Johnson, among whose goals is to regain the butthole of a twenty-eight-year-old, is subsidizing his grim errand in the blood-draining of the youthful with a magical $50,000 helmet that promises to end chronic pain. Reached for comment, the devourer of his spawn’s previous fluid gloated, “We learn from failure, not from success!” Actually, no, our mistake, that was from Dracula.  


Single Ladies

Beyoncé’s upcoming world tour will displace London families evicted from their Enfield Travelodge lodgings, as The Guardian reports, because it is less important that struggling mothers be able to care for their autistic children than it is for concertgoers to get a load of Jay-Z’s onetime partner and the Austin Powers: Goldmember actress. Said one mother made homeless by the relocation, “I’m grateful that I’ve got a roof over my head but it’s cramped. Both of my sons still drink formula. I have to wash both my son’s milk bottles in the bathroom sink,” a disenfranchisement not seen since last year when Queen Bee altered a slur in one of her lyrics after outcry from Twitter. This is bad news for the idol but, of course, if you’d liked it you shoulda put a ring on it.


It’s Only a Paper Moon

Noted balloon-animal enthusiast Jeff Koons, having conquered the art market on earth, is turning his attention to the moon, as per an interview with 60 Minutes. A SpaceX rocket laden with more than a hundred knickknacks by the futurist is scheduled to reach the stratosphere within the year, capping the career of the artist, who holds the record for the most expensive sculpture, his Rabbit having sold for $91.1 million in 2019. The moon is new to the art world, though of course it is the source of rocks that go for $1.8 million and The Dark Side of the Moon rhymes cosmically with The Wizard of Oz if you play them side by side.


Read My Lips

Used cherry lip balm by House Speaker Kevin McCarthy has been sold for $100,000 to Marjorie Taylor Greene, who won the item at auction. The lip balm is just the latest outrageous item surrendered by the Republican Party, along with decency, logic, and sane text messages after a GOP representative with the Treasury said his feed is “a dumpster fire.” It’s odd that Greene should be so interested in accouterments of the mouth, since every time she opens hers it is to opine about how global warming is good for us, Walmart sells sex toys, or persecution by the “Gazpacho Police.” Meanwhile, the Florida mom behind the state’s decision to limit access to Amanda Gorman’s poem, “The Hill We Climb,” which she read for Joe Biden’s inauguration, has apologized for citing antisemitic hoax document The Protocols of Zion in her ongoing condemnation of literature, real or imagined.


Fronds with Benefits

The city council in Plymouth, England has elected to cut down a copse of palms because the offending waterfront trees have become a beacon of public sex, which is good news for impressionable children and bad news for sex-havers, who will be forced to scurry to less romantic climes in their pursuit of sin. Frankly, the droll and uninspiring coast of England is lucky to have attracted such fanfare, given that Plymouth is otherwise known for its naval memorials, but the old advice given to young lovers has at last been proven true, “close your eyes and think of England.”