Fresh Hell

We love picking, make no mistake about it.

For the “oddly satisfying” video enthusiast in your life, Billy and Summer Pierce present the Next Big Thing: Pop it Pal™, “the novelty pimple popping toy you just can’t get enough of.” For $19.99, you’ll get a slab of silicone with fifteen “pimples” ready to excrete all-natural Pimple Pus. Just heat up the pus in the microwave until liquid, fill up the silicone, and pick away! It’s sure to be a real nostalgia trip for those of us that had actual acne but have since converted to the good life of a regimented assault of hygiene on our skin.

Plain I see you, western youths, see you innovating with the foremost,  Pioneers! O pioneers!

LinkedIn, not known for their literary prowess, has excreted unto society a crop of men who may soon become known as the Patron Bards of Latter Day Capitalism. Their form: broetry. The Walt Whitman of this clusterfuck, Josh Fechter (founder of BAMF, Bad Ass Marketers and Founders), spews into the status update box of his LinkedIn profile deeply profound verse:

My first employee is an immigrant.
He got rejected by Facebook, Snapchat, and Google.
They didn’t want to deal with visa issues.
I knew we were taking a risk hiring him. I just didn’t know how valuable he’d become.
And now he might get deported.
All I want for the holidays are better immigration laws.

Poetry, sheer poetry! We are blessed to tiptoe amongst the blossoms in this rosy-fingered dawn of a new age of American verse. The best minds of our generation, enlightened by song!

Extreme Makeover: Newsroom Edition

In an act of lavish philanthropy, billionaire Patrick Soon-Shiong (who cobbled together his fortune peddling pricey cancer drugs) swooped in to buy the Los Angeles Times and its sister newspaper, the San Diego Union-Tribune. Here’s hoping he doesn’t abandon previous owner Tronc’s plan to revamp the newsroom with “lavish penthouse accommodations” for executives, including essentials like a game room and helipad. As for the extraneous editors and reporters, they’d be relegated to communal work tables, given lockers, and outfitted in chic polo shirts embossed with the Los Angeles Times logo. Journalism, made opulent at last!

Feed the meter, not the homeless.

In a determined effort to give the appearance of solving homelessness sans substantive reform, Los Angeles has unveiled a “real change movement” fed by the loose change dropped into brightly colored meters emblazoned with smiley faces. “This is a way for people to give,” remarked city councilman Jose Huizar, “And it’s going to be right before them when they’re walking down the street.” You know, unlike the actual unsightly homeless population of over 55,000, which the city seems to hope will dissipate into the ether instead of having the gall to bother people who have better things to do like stand in line at Eggslut.

The Lord’s work.

Another reason to get the damn homeless off the streets: to prevent them from getting scooped into and nearly crushed by garbage trucks. Last December in San Diego, as a sanitation crew performed the Lord’s work of abolishing a transient camp three days before Christmas, an actual human just somehow, in all the excitement, found his way into the hydraulic trash compactor of the truck. If it weren’t for his screams, he may never have been noticed! Thankfully, San Diego has since instituted a new, more humane protocol: “appropriate tools” will now be provided to crews to “assist in removing bulk contents from structures” before they’re tossed into the compactor.