What dumb stuff is everyone talking about right now? Well...
The far-right group "Generation Identity" just can't catch a break. They hired a ship called the C-Star in an attempt to block refugees from entering Europe, and to protest the rescue ships that save the lives of thousands of refugees who are in danger from drowning after overcrowded ships sink. These protests and refugee-blocking are humble enough anti-humanitarian goals, and yet this intrepid "Defend Europe" crusade has already been mired in difficulty. Several of their Sri-Lankan hired crew abandoned the ship when they docked at Cyprus, seeking asylum. Then, Tunisian fishermen blocked the C-Star from pulling into port, because they were somewhat peeved at the group's whole "protesting against saving lives" schtick. That, or they're mad about spelling "Sea" as "C."
Then, to top it off, the C-Star's engine failed, and a German NGO ship rescued them. This was the same NGO ship that rescued refugees, and the C-Star was taking a bold stance against. They might as well rename themselves the U.S.S Irony, or maybe the H.M.S We're A Bunch Of Douches
The C-Star tried to save face by claiming it only encountered "minor technical difficulties," which is apparently humiliation-speak for "engine failure." We can rest assured that they probably didn't learn anything from this.
I can only speculate what the upscale dining experience in this Cheetos branded restaurant will be like. As you walk in, perhaps you're greeted by a posh waiter, who seats you at a candle lit table and gives you a pair of hand-calligraphed menus. "Can I start you off with something to drink? We have a fine selection of Mountain Dews, including some very oaky Code Reds." Then comes time to decide on a meal. The specials I imagine will be something like Foie Gras Cheeto, wherein geese are cruelly force-fed Cheetos until they die, resulting in a very delicious liver. Or perhaps a rich orange Cheeto-dust demi-glace, liberally poured over a pork shank, allowing the distinctive flavor of Cheetos to overwhelm and conquer the dish. Then there's the Duck a L'neon Orange. Or maybe they just cram raw Cheetos down your gullet, spraying can after can of Easy Cheese into your prone mouth until you beg for the check.
Alright, Walmart. It was nice of you to apologize, but seriously... get it together, guys. Are you telling me that every single one of your employees who passed by this situation took a look at the sign and juxtaposition with the rifles and went, "Hmm. Yep. Looks good." Or are you giving them so little in wages that they literally can't afford to pay attention? Haha, get it? Income inequality! Anyways thanks for taking the sign down so customers can enjoy shopping for their Nintendos, Cheerios, and Savage AXIS XP 308 WIN caliber rifle.
A strange driverless car was spotted in Arlington, Virginia. But it turns out it was just a man in a car seat costume. The fake driverless car almost got away with it, if it weren't for those meddling kids-err, a reporter who shot film through the window revealing the "car seat" had legs and arms coming out of it. The intrepid reporter demanded of the phony, "Brother, who are you? What are you doing? I'm with the news, dude." The "driverless" car sped off mysteriously.
It turns out the motives behind the stunt weren't sinister (although this would probably be the setup to the perfect murder). Virginia Tech was doing some kind of study on autonomous cars, probably measuring drivers' reactions to them. But what if this was a complex psychological study on the effects of living as a car seat? An exploration of what separates man from car seat, and how much the human psyche can tolerate being a car seat before it breaks?
This poor research-assistant-turned-car-seat may be participating in the sacred name of science, but what havoc is this wreaking on his life? Does he sit at home, steadfastly in his costume, a drink in what he now calls his "cupholder" (hand)? Does his wife try in vain to get him to eat, only for him to answer coldly, "Car seats have no need for sustenance."
"Come to bed, Dennis, for god's sake. The study has been over for weeks!" his wife exclaims.
"Car seats do not require sleep. But you may recline me to the level of your choosing by pulling on-"
"Oh, Dennis, what have they done to you?!" cries the wife, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she runs from the room.
Australia, are you kidding me? I mean really, you've already got deadly jellyfish, sharks, crocs, spiders, snakes, birds, octopi, and now your "sea fleas" are trying to kill us? I'm not scared anymore. I'm just confused and tired.
A teenager decided to swim in the ocean, and returned to shore with hundreds of pinholes in his feet that oozed blood. I don't want to blame the victim here, going to the beach is a pretty normal teen activity. But honestly when you live in Australia, shouldn't you entomb yourself inside a solid concrete compound filled with insecticide and koala traps, never exposing yourself to the elements and creatures that lurk outside your sunless vault?
Apparently these pinholes wouldn't stop bleeding, which must have been fun as the owner of the feet to discover. Not only are you now about 900 foot-holes richer, but whatever things bit you also probably thought to inject you with some kind of anti-coagulant, so those pesky life-saving platelets don't interrupt their blood meal. Fortunately, the teen in question was treated in the hospital and is fine. Physically, that is. I can't imagine he'll be able to sleep or bathe ever again.
Meanwhile, his father has become Liam Neeson in Taken, hunting down the creatures that turned his son's feet into swiss cheese. "You messed with the wrong dad, punks," he said, or whatever it is that Liam Neeson says in those movies. The kid's father went to the sea of the crime (don't you dare judge me) and used "bloodied meat, some bones," to bait the creatures. They returned with a bucket full 'o tiny horrors: little "mite-type characters" (quoth the dad) who ate up that meat like a bunch of senior citizens at a Golden Corral.
Marine biologist Genefor Walker-Smith (yes, we're in Jaws territory now) identified the tiny jerks as lysianassid amphipods. According to her, they don't generally eat live meat, and instead prefer to scavenge dead fish corpses. She explained, "It was just unlucky. It's possible he disturbed a feeding group but they are generally not out there waiting to attack like piranhas."
Or, these little terrors never knew they could attack like piranhas. Until now.