Almost the News XXXVI

 

Real Headlines. Fake News.


Man to Appear in Court After Fatal Hit-and-Run
This marks the first time a corpse will have been called as a witness.

Minneapolis City Council Denies Developer for George Floyd Square
"Actually, he's the coolest cat we've ever met. Not square at all."

Deputy Working at School in Georgia Accused of On-Duty Sexual Assault at Nearby Home
Sheriff Uttoh states: "What a person does on their own time is their own business, but when you're on the clock..."

U.S. Launches More Strikes in the Middle East
Accordingly, they are leading in the World Bowling Championships currently being held in Lebanon.


Large Police Presence in Inver Grove Heights Neighborhood
A local resident who wished to remain unidentified is quoted as saying, "There are three or four of 'em in my front yard, and they're each at least seven feet tall!"

New Report Shows Crime Trending Down in Minneapolis
Meanwhile, crime isn't a trendy thing at ALL up in Duluth.

Explosive Diarrhea-Causing Parasite Infects More than 1,000 People
The trick is to get the parasite to explode before it infects you.

Video Shows Tense Moments During South Minneapolis Standoff
"Let's take a break from this standoff and watch a clip of Indiana Jones outrunning a boulder."


        

And the Wind Cries "Squirrel!": The 370th Greatest Song

 

It's not often that Jimi Hendrix wrote a ballad.

Then again, it probably wasn't all that often that he and his girlfriend had a dish-smashing argument.


All I know is, "The Wind Cries Mary" is fairly depressing:

After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footprints dressed in red
And the wind whispers, "Mary."

And it goes on from there with talk of a crying queen and wifeless king and blue traffic lights and a tiny island that sags downstream and the wind with a bad memory and a crutch and what were we talking about anyway?


        

Hack to the Future: Great Scott!

 

Admittedly, it doesn't take much to send my mind swirling down a rabbit hole of pop culture references and parallel universes. It should come as no surprise, then, to learn that's exactly what happened when I stumbled upon this AI-created mash-up of Taxi and Back to the Future:


Biff Reiger: Why don't you make like a tree and go to Central Park?

*  *  *

Bobby McFly: Calvin? Wh... Why do you keep calling me Calvin?

Lorraine Nardo: Well, that is your name, isn't it? Calvin Klein? It's written all over your hack license.

*  *  *

Latka McFly: I'm your density...ibbi da.

*  *  *

Bobby McFly: Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Ah... Are you telling me that you built a time machine... out of a taxi?

Dr. Rev. Jim Brown: The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with an opportunity for extra income?


        

All This, and Yet I Am Not a Scrabble Champion

 

While playing a well-known crossword-creation game online, I was amused, and perhaps slightly nauseated, when I looked at my available letters and saw "LINTPIE".


Although the thought of consuming such a concoction certainly killed my appetite, it brought to life a string of thoughts, so I LEPT IN and called a TIP LINE.

I had just stabbed my mouth with my fork, so I was suffering from TINE LIP and couldn't really carry on a conversation. Instead, I fastened a TILE PIN to my shirt and tried to start a campfire...but I couldn't get the PINE LIT.

I was going to burn my mortgage, but since I couldn't get the fire going, I just stood there and stared at a LIEN PIT.

Trying to redeem my time, I cleared my hair of louse eggs until I had a nice little NIT PILE.


        

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: The 371st Greatest Song


The Who's very first single spent a mere two weeks on the March 1965 charts and only made it to Number 93.

Musically, it feels suspiciously like "You Really Got Me" by The Kinks (maybe because both songs were produced by the same guy). So much so, Dave Davies of The Kinks says that when he heard "I Can't Explain," he thought those "cheeky buggers" from The Who were copying them.


According to Songfacts.com: The Who guitarist Pete Townshend wrote this song when he was 18 years old. He described it as being about a guy who "can't tell his girlfriend he loves her because he's taken too many Dexedrine tablets."

And yet, Rolling Stone considers it the 371st greatest song of all time.

I can't explain why.


        

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