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Man, What the Hell?

Man, What The Hell? Hate To Say I Told You So Edition

Plus: Police butts, policing butts, and arousing fish.

Welcome to Man, What the Hell?, a series delving into the stories that made us go, “Man, what the hell?”

Here’s something I’ve noticed recently: After nearly four years of Donald Trump in office, I find myself increasingly shocked, but at the same time largely unsurprised, by just about anything he does anymore.

Perhaps whatever little spark of wonder and astonishment that dimly lit the increasingly smooth crevices of my poor internet-addled brain has finally been snuffed out. Or maybe it’s because just about every awful thing that the president has done in the past few years had largely been—broadly speaking—predicted, telegraphed, and foreshadowed way ahead of time.

A quickening goose step march toward fascism, with federal goons snatching civilians off the streets? Horrifying, to be sure, but not exactly unforeseen. New allegations of coarse, uninspired racism? Hardly breaking news. A total collapse when faced with a legitimate national crisis? Who woulda guessed? The list goes on and on.

I suppose I take solace in the fact that our long national slouch toward Bethlehem is not nearly as random and chaotic as it might seem. I am, by equal measure, depressed as hell when I meet people who seem genuinely surprised each and every time the president does something predictably ghoulish; it must be exhausting.

I wish I had a point to all this, but really I think I’m just bummed out at how banally evil this all seems. Horrible? Yes, but boy have we gotten good at taking it all in stride; we saw it coming, it came, and now we’re left wondering when and which next predictable shit show will predictably show it’s shit.

Anyway, onto this week’s cavalcade of oddities and horrors!

Maybe he should get a second opinion?

Personally, if more than 100 doctors in my city had come together to write an open letter about how shitty I was, I would simply shut the fuck up forever and ever amen. Then again, I am not Republican Congressman Dan Crenshaw, who has called politicians in his home state “fear mongers” and “tyrants” for trying to implement policies that maybe, just maybe, could help stem Texas’ catastrophic coronavirus rate.

Still, if I were Dan, and had the weight of more than 400 cumulative years of medical school telling me I sucked, I’d think twice before I go in for my next annual checkup.

Where there’s a will(fair), there’s a Way(fair)

Last week, a number of you suggested I mention the absolutely deranged internet conspiracy theory that furniture and home goods company Wayfair was actually a major hub for international child trafficking, because their cabinets are A) expensive, and B) have names like “Anabel” and “Alyvia”.

Yeah, I don’t get it either.

In a vain attempt to save what’s left of my few functioning brain cells, I did my very best to avoid anything having to do with this shitty progeny of some meth-fueled conspiracy union between Pizzagate and Qanon. Life is short, so why give myself the agita? Unfortunately, my best was not enough, and thanks to your incessant commenting, I’ve been forced to ~ e n g a g e ~ in this garbage piece of internet shittery.

Fortunately, I’m happy to say that the makers of my extremely reliable dining room chairs have set the record straight-ish by publicly refuting he allegations that they’re shipping young children around the world for nefarious purposes.

In a statement to Newsweek, Wayfair said:

There is, of course, no truth to these claims. The products in question are industrial grade cabinets that are accurately priced. Recognizing that the photos and descriptions provided by the supplier did not adequately explain the high price point, we have temporarily removed the products from site to rename them and to provide a more in-depth description and photos that accurately depict the product to clarify the price point.

Because if there’s one thing that will surely appease the sort of people who believe this stuff in the first place, it’s the decision to “temporarily [remove] the products from site to rename them.” Great work all around. I’m sure this is the last time we’ll hear anything about this.

Bear with me

I can’t speak for the rest of the country, but in Minneapolis nature is indeed healing and we are, it turns out, the virus.

Cop Caboose Controversy

Perhaps you remember last month when, shortly after blasting protesters in the skull with “less than lethal” beanbag rounds that left at least two people with brain damage, the Austin, TX, police department made a big stupid deal over receiving a sack of what turned out to be conspicuously similar greeting cards lauding them for being the upstanding, inspiring law enforcement officials that they are.

“Our officers have been working around the clock during these unprecedented times and thank everyone who took the time to write and make our day a little brighter,” the department wrote at the time. Golly, gee, ain’t that nice?

I take this trip down memory lane because now, thanks to an open records request from Texas Monthly, we have our first glimpse at what these cards actually said. And what they said is: Cops have good tushies.

Specifically, 46 of the more than 180 cards obtained by TM had the following poem (??) written inside:

In case you forgot to remind yourself this morning…

Your butt is perfect.

Your smile lights up the room.

Your mind is cool.

You are way more than enough.

You are doing a great job.

Austin-area readers, I ask you: Are your local cops’ butts indeed “perfect”? Or are they, as I suspect, more like ziplock bags of lumpy creamed corn absolutely shoehorned into pairs of over-starched blue trousers? Pls sound off in the comments if you have any insight here.

Deploy Derriere Detecting Drones Dammit!

Honestly, what is it with cops and butts? In Texas they’ve allegedly got perfect posteriors, and in Golden Valley, MN—just to the north-west of the Twin Cities—the police are sending out hovering robots to get a good look at bare asses. There, the police department reportedly employs “trained drone pilots” to fly sorties over a local beach in the hopes of catching some tits and/or ass—and then ticketing the unclothed offender. It’s like an ‘80s straight-to-VHS sex comedy combined with an ‘80s straight-to-VHS dystopian sci-fi thriller, and frankly, I hate it.


Here is a real fish with real lips and real teeth that really exists in the real world, whether you like it or not.

This particular triggerfish was caught in Malaysia sometime last week, and thanks to its “luscious lips,” now “arouses social media,” according to the always dignified New York Post. So now I have to ask: Is this fish too sexy?

Doo-doo, doo doo do-doo

Speaking of underwater creatures with too many teeth, here’s 29-year-old Anika Crane shouting about how much she absolutely loves sharks—after a shark reportedly shoved its teeth through her skin and into her body.

Lady, it’s fine. You can tell us if you don’t like sharks anymore. Really, it’s OK. I think they’ll understand.


Look, I’m all for encouraging civic engagement—but this…this is just painful.

Also, c’mon, Commissioner Gordon turns on the Bat Signal. If Mayor Lightfoot really watched the 1960s TV series, she’d know that most of the time someone needs to get in touch with Batman, they just called him on the phone.

And finally

In the spirit of being shocked, but not altogether surprised by anything anymore…

Did anything make you say “Man, what the hell?” this week? Perhaps out loud to a roommate, loved one, or disinterested household pet/plant? Misery loves company, so share your personal what the hells in the comments below!

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(pic via Burning Heart/Epitaph/Sire/Gearhead – gives me hives just thinkin’ about it)