Met Their Match

Cenk Uygur and Cathy Newman matched on Tinder and are on their first date after their divorces from their “narc” exes.

Uygur: So…nice to finally get a chance to sit down with you. What I’m looking for right now is a woman who will be up front about her intentions. I don’t like jumping through hoops for women who make it seem like sex is some kind of reward that they’ll begrudgingly allow me to have on rare occasions. I guess what I’m really trying to say is I’m tired of getting only a drop of pussy, and I want to jump into the whole ocean.

Newman: So what you’re saying is you see me as nothing more than a walking vagina?

Uygur: In other words, what you’re saying is you are going to use me for free meals and never put out.

Newman: So what you’re saying is I don’t have a job?

Uygur: In other words, since you have a job, you’re saying it’s OK for you to lead men on and treat them like they’re beneath you.

Newman: So what you’re saying is men never lead women on or treat them like they’re beneath them.

Uygur: So in other words, since I’m a man, this means I’m going to treat you badly and I think you’re an object.

Newman: So what you’re saying is you think you’re perfect and have never said or done anything you regret in a relationship? It’s always the woman’s fault?

Uygur: In other words, I’m responsible for my divorce, and my wife never put out because I’m a total jerk?

Newman: You’re saying you should be allowed to be a total jerk and your wife should have sex with you no matter what?

Uygur: In other words, you had a hidden camera in my house and observed the relationship between my wife and me, so you know my wife was perfect and I was to blame for all of the conflict.

Newman: So what you’re saying is I need a hidden camera in your house in order to even suggest that you’re not absolutely perfect?

Uygur: So in other words, saying my wife is absolutely perfect and blameless is merely “suggesting that I’m not absolutely perfect.”

Newman: So you’re saying me suggesting you’re not absolutely perfect was really me saying your wife was absolutely perfect and blameless?

Uygur: …Wow. We seem to be stuck here.

Newman: So what you’re saying is we both misrepresented what the other said?

Uygur: So what you’re saying is what you’re saying I’m saying is not what I’m saying?

Newman: In other words, “in other words” is other words for other words.

Projection

“Shhhh! I’m trying to watch the movie,” exclaimed Kim, Noah’s mother.

“Could you please stop talking? My 3-year-old desperately wanted to see this movie, and you’re ruining it for him!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” replied Jennifer, Oliver’s mother. “I was just trying to explain the plot to my 6-year-old. I’ll be quiet now.”

“Mom, can we go?” asked an impatient Oliver.

“Ollie, what do I keep telling you about this? It’s Mommy. And you’ve been begging me to see this for weeks!”

“No, you kept telling me you wanted to see it, Mom…Mommy.”

“Stop being such a baby. You’re a big boy now. If you want me to get you that stuffed bunny, you’ll behave,” replied an exasperated Jennifer.

“Bunny? But I wanted a football…”

“Shhhh! This is my favorite part! It’s so cute!”

12 Years Later…

Oliver’s graduation ceremony has just concluded, and he’s standing outside his high school building with his dad, Rick. His dad thinks it’s time they have a serious talk about Oliver’s future plans, since he still hasn’t picked out a college to attend.

“You know, I know you’ve been worried about what’s next. I think we should discu-“…Oliver’s phone vibrates. It’s a message from his mom, who is waiting for them in the car.

“Is that your mother? You’d better get that. She’s really steamed at me for not getting her decaf before she got up. I’m in the doghouse,” notes a distraught Rick.

4 Years Later…

Did Do Somethin’

It was a cool night in Southern California, and Nick was manning the counter at his gas station job. He had just put in his two weeks’ notice, and he was looking forward to spending his last days at his shitty job with a nothing to lose attitude. As he was trying to think of what snarky things he would say to rude customers during his shift, a man walked up to the counter and flashed a knife.

“Yo, gimmie all your cash, fool,” ordered the man.

Nick wasn’t in the mood. He had seen Falling Down before, and he was fed up with his life to the point where he didn’t feel like giving in to the man’s demands.

“Go ahead, you fucking nigger. Kill me. You’ll catch a murder charge. Is that what you want?”

“Whatchu say to me, cracker?!” replied the colored person person of color.

“Go ahead. Go ahead, you fucking pussy,” replied Nick.

The man stared at Nick for several seconds, then slowly turned and walked out the door.

Nick immediately took out his phone and dialed 911 to report the incident. The police arrived a few minutes later, and asked Nick for the details.

“Well, he was wearing a hoodie and a mask, and he flashed his knife at me before asking for all of the cash in the register,” Nick told the cops.

Just then, the person of color returned to the gas station store and introduced himself.

“Officer, this man called me the N word. I demand charges be brought against him for this offense.”

As the person of color was making these accusations, Nick’s boss walked in.

“Yiketh! Nick…is this true?!”

“He was trying to rob me at knifepoint,” replied Nick.

“So what? That’s still no excuse for saying such a hurtful word! I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel…errr…terminate your employment. I’m sorry, but we can not allow such toxicity in this work environment. You handled this the wrong way.”

“You is lucky all these cops is around you or I’d fuck you up, white boy,” insisted the person of color.

“Turn around. Put your hands behind your back,” said the cop.

The person of color didn’t budge.

“See, now he’s resisting arrest,” noted Nick, “typical dindu nuffin.”

“Not him. You,” replied the police officer.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of public opinion. You have the right to make a public apology. Anything you say can and will be used against you as a CNN headline. If you do not wish to make a public apology, you will be labeled an edgelord. Do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?”

“Dayum,” said the person of color, “we finally be making progress as a people.”

But then something happened. The person of color watched as Nick was being taken out to the police car in handcuffs…and it just seemed something was off.

“Hold up. Hold up. You just gon’ let them take you like dat, boi? Whachu doin? Fuck da po-lice! Pull out yo gat and take the world wif you, nigga. Don’t let them niggas bring you in all quiet ‘n shit. Whatchu doin’ cooperatin’ ‘n sheeyit? Be a rill nigga ‘n fight for you, cuz.”

But it was no use.

Nick was held responsible for Nick’s actions.

The Narcissist

I narc on narcs.

If you’re a narc, I’m going to narc on you.

There’s no “I” in team, but there are two in “narcissist.” The first “I” in that word represents you, the narcissist, and the second “I” is me, the pop psychology expert diagnosing you with the condition that is the 2020s’ answer to 2000 through 2011 Charlie Sheen media tour’s “bipolar.”

My abusive ex is a narc. Major red flags that I should have seen.

I went from being raised by narcissists to dating them. Everyone around me is a narcissist.

But not me.

I know that I am not a narcissist. I’ve given myself enough thought to know I’m not. I have self-awareness. I know my truth. I manifest good things that happen in my life and have no time for toxic narcissists.

I also see a therapist who listens to me and reassures me that I am a person of value.

What was that? You’re calling me a narcissist?

I’m “projecting,” you say?

You’re projecting when you say I’m projecting, you toxic narc. That’s more projection than every Imax theater being catapulted into space.

What’s happening here is your fragile narc ego can’t handle nonbinary POC being superior to you.

Nobody is better at spotting a narcissist than me. I am, if not the greatest, certainly one of the greatest narcissist spotters in the history of this planet, that I can tell you.

Donald Trump is a narcissist.

Get out of my mirror, Orange Man.

The Busyness of Business

One day, at the office, Ned called Ted.

But Ted didn’t answer Ned, since he was calling Fred.

Voicemail: Hi, Ted here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Ned: Hi Ted, it’s Ned. I need some information from you. Call me back.

And Fred didn’t answer Ted, since he was calling Ned.

Voicemail: Hi, Fred here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Ted: Hi Fred, it’s Ted. I need some information from you. Call me back.

And Ned didn’t answer Fred, since he was calling Ted.

Voicemail: Hi, Ned here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Fred: Hi Ned, it’s Fred. I need some information from you. Call me back.

Later in the day, Ted called Ned back.

But Ned didn’t answer Ted, since he was calling Fred back.

Voicemail: Hi, Ned here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Ted: Hi Ned, it’s Ted. I need to know what information you needed from me. Call me back.

And Fred didn’t answer Ned, since he was calling Ted back.

Voicemail: Hi, Fred here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Ned: Hi Fred, it’s Ned. I need to know what information you needed from me. Call me back.

And Ted didn’t answer Fred, since he was calling Ned back.

Voicemail: Hi, Ted here. I’m too busy to take your call right now because my job sucks. I’ll call you back. (Beep.)

Fred: Hi Ted, it’s Fred. I need to know what information you needed from me. Call me back.

The next day, at the office, Ned, Ted and Fred called their bosses to quit.

But their bosses didn’t answer, since they were calling their bosses to quit.

Peace-meal

As Haibatullah Akhundzada, supreme ruler of the Taliban, stood at the United States/Mexico border, Roberta Smith-Davis adjusted zer mask. Ze did not want to risk contracting the Gamma Phi Omega Theta Epsilon Psi variant, which was said to be 980% more transmissible than all previous variants. It was also more dangerous in squirrels and earthworms than previous variants, and neither species was eligible to receive a 75th booster of the vaccine. Smith-Davis could not risk transmitting this virus to innocent squirrels or earthworms. That would not be justifiable. Hence, ze wore a mask everywhere ze went.

On the other hand, ze realized it would be Islamophobic to deny Akhundzada entry to the United States. As John Lennon once said, “Imagine being Islamophobic in 2022. bUt MuH nAtIoNaL sEcUrItY.”

“Please wear a mask, sir,” pleaded Smith-Davis, who felt sure ze would pass out from Akhundzada’s anti-masker and anti-vaxxer views and overall toxicity.

“Death to America!” replied Akhundzada.

Smith-Davis did the only thing it could do.

It welcomed Akhundzada to America, acknowledging that it would be Islamophobic to impose Western values on a member of a marginalized group. Imagine thinking morality isn’t relative in 2022.

After all, it wasn’t Akhundzada’s fault the pandemic was ongoing. This was all avoidable.

That’s what bothered Smith-Davis the most: All of this could have been avoided.

All the world had to do was institute martial law in every country, barricade everyone in their homes, round up the homeless and put them in camps, print new currency, forgive all debt, automate all jobs, force vaccinate all people, animals, plants, and inanimate objects, and most importantly…wear masks.

But noooo. These selfish assholes couldn’t even do these little things to save lives.

“Selfish assholes” meaning rednecks, of course.

Dumb, conservative rednecks. What do they contribute to society, anyway? All these worthless people in Southern ‘Murica growing food, building houses and all of the furniture in them, paving roads, and doing all of this other pointless shit we don’t need…

Why should they have any say in how the country is run?

It’s enlightened Democrats like Smith-Davis and its friends who matter in 2022. Friends like Jerrica Rogers-Jackson, the brilliant innovator responsible for the groundbreaking new smartphone app, “Phaggot” (Don’t worry, since Rogers-Jackson identifies as genderfluid and pansexual, the name of the app is not problematic).

These are the people who should be running the country.

As Akhundzada and the rest of the Taliban began their march toward Washington, D.C., Smith-Davis felt a sense of satisfaction. Finally, ze thought, the straight white male would be forced to accept diversity.

When the Taliban arrived at the White House, President Biden opted to wear an additional mask before greeting them.

“Hello, Mr. Akhundzada,” President Biden muttered into his 11 masks, “How may I be of service to you?”

“Death to America,” replied Akhundzada.

President Biden thought it would be wise to attempt a negotiation. He just wanted peace, after all.

“How about a compromise?”

Akhundzada, being a man of reason, accepted President Biden’s proposal.

Akhundzada’s demands were easy for President Biden to accept because they were not outrageous. His only real demand was that every American woman cover up her legs whenever she left home. And…that’s it.

While this upset many American women as it felt like a restriction on their freedoms, President Biden reminded everyone that it was “only some additional cloth.”

It seemed like such a small sacrifice to make for peace.

And so American women, and all those who identified as American women, made this sacrifice.

Because they weren’t selfish assholes.

And after this was adopted across America? What did Akhundzada do then?

He celebrated.

“Mission accomplished,” said Akhundzada.

America was now officially dead.

TheRapist

As John sat down on a leather couch in the office of Dr. Sarah Quill, a board certified psychiatrist, he felt slightly nervous. It was his first time meeting with her.

Dr. Quill: So how are you?

John: I’m good. Just a little tired since I had to get up early for this appointment. How are you?

Dr. Quill: I’m doing fine myself. Seems we’re in for a rainy week.

John: Yeah. That’s what I heard.

Dr. Quill: So what brings you by?

John: Well, I was on the website, Reddit, and so many users there kept telling me I’m toxic, that I needed a therapist, and that I should go to therapy, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do. My previous therapists were useless, but Redditors told me that I just haven’t found the right one yet. So here I am. Still looking.

Dr. Quill: OK. So why don’t you tell me about yourself?

John: My name’s John, yada yada, blah blah blah. Would it be possible to skip all this other stuff and talk about feelings? I want to talk about feelings with a therapist like they show in the movies. My last therapists were all men, and they never asked me anything about my feelings or tried to help me in any way. They just asked what I did over the weekend and whether or not I watched the football game. It was clear to me they were just trying to pass the time until I paid them at the end. I figure maybe it would be different if my therapist were a woman. I want to feel like I’m good enough. I want it to be like that scene in Good Will Hunting where Robin Williams was hugging Matt Damon and telling him, “it’s not your fault.” Only that might not be such a good idea because, honestly, I find you attractive.

Dr. Quill: Yikes! What makes you think that’s an appropriate thing to say to a woman?

John: Well, I just thought since you’re a therapist, I could be honest about my feelings. I’m just saying I think you’re attractive so we probably shouldn’t be physically intimate like that. I was just joking.

Dr. Quill: That’s toxic masculinity.

John: Telling you my feelings is toxic masculinity? I thought people like you wanted men to be more open about their feelings?

Dr. Quill: Not those feelings. Telling a woman you just met that you find her attractive is toxic. Here you are, a strange man in a room alone with a woman. You could literally rape me.

John: Well, I apologize then. It’s hard to know what’s acceptable in this progressive society.

Dr. Quill: Yikes! You sound like an incel.

John: I mean, I don’t do well with women, if that’s what you mean. I think I’m ugly and I’m insecure about my penis size. They never respond positively when I try to talk to them.

Dr. Quill: Who hurt you, sweetie?

John: Huh?

Dr. Quill: How do you expect any woman to find you attractive when you are so insecure and pathetic?

John: Well, that’s just it. I’m insecure. How do I stop feeling insecure?

Dr. Quill: It’s OK to be insecure, but just stop telling people about it. Gross. Nobody wants to hear about your insecurities, sweetie. Stop being a manbaby. Man up.

John: But those are also feelings I have. Am I not allowed to share those either?

Dr. Quill: Those are toxic, self-defeating feelings. So no, you shouldn’t share those either. You’re a straight, white male. You shouldn’t share any toxic feelings whatsoever. Nobody wants to hear about your insecurities, or your resentments, or your racism, sexism, xenophobia, transphobia, or admiration of Trump. When we say we want to stop “toxic masculinity,” we mean we want men to stop being entitled manchildren, man up, and stop expecting women to like them if they don’t bring anything to the table. And when we say we want men to be more open with their feelings, we mean we want them to be able to express wholesome feelings, like how much they admire marginalized groups and how they desire multiculturalism.

John: OK. So how exactly do I, “man up?”

Dr. Quill: What do you do for a living?

John: I’m a receptionist at a dental clinic. I earn around $11 an hour.

*Dr. Quill shakes her head.*

Dr. Quill: If you want women to find you attractive, you need to be ambitious.

John: What do you mean by that?

Dr. Quill: It means you should want to be more than a receptionist.

John: Why? The job’s OK. I don’t care about money that much. It pays my bills.

Dr. Quill: It’s not about the money. It’s about showing women you want to be successful.

John: It sounds to me like you’re saying it’s about money.

Dr. Quill: What are you saying? Are you calling me a gold digger?

John: I’m saying I’ve noticed that women in general seem to use euphemisms for wanting guys for their money. Sometimes I feel like women really only care about money.

Dr. Quill: Oh look, our time’s up.

John: But we’ve only been here 5 minutes?

Dr. Quill: Well, it’s just the first appointment. We can talk more next time. Would you like to schedule it now?

John: Uh…I guess?

Dr. Quill: Good. How’s Thursday two weeks from now at 7:30 AM?

John: I guess that works. That gives me enough time to drive to work afterwards.

Dr. Quill: OK, so that’ll be $175.

John: Wait, what? I thought that was your hourly rate?

Dr. Quill: That’s just the rate per appointment. You aren’t paying me enough for me to sit here and listen to your toxicity.

John: I’m not paying $175 for 5 minutes of talking.

Dr. Quill: And you wonder why women don’t find you attractive. Look at how you’re acting when it’s time to pay for something.

John: But I don’t think I should pay you. You didn’t help me at all. I don’t want to get another job just because it pays more. I’m not interested in gold diggers.

Dr. Quill: You agreed to the price the moment you scheduled this appointment.

John: I agreed to the hourly rate. I’m not paying you.

Dr. Quill: You’re going to pay for this one way or another.

Dr. Quill presses a button by her desk, and two men in white coats enter the room. They grab John as he tries to leave.

Dr. Quill pulls out a syringe from her desk drawer and walks over to John as he struggles in a futile attempt to free himself.

Dr. Quill: This is for your own good.

John: No! I said, no!

Dr. Quill injects a sedative in John’s ass. After five minutes pass, she pulls John’s credit card out of his wallet and swipes it.

Dr. Quill: Sign. Now.

The drugged up John relents and signs the receipt.

Dr. Quill: Maybe next time you won’t say something so toxic and gross like, “women only care about money.”

False Equivalence

Yiketh, that’s a false equivalenth.

Did you seriously just compare me to Hitler?

LOL, can I just claim automatic victory? Godwin’th law.

I am not Hitler.

I’m really not.

Seriously.

For one thing, Hitler was Austrian. I’m from California.

For another, he had that mustache. Me? I have a beard.

Hitler was romantically involved with Eva Braun, the affable Katie Couric of German politics.

I, on the other hand, am in a polyamorous, pansexual relationship with Jackie, Steve, and Gregica.

We are nothing alike.

Hitler was a vegetarian, while I’m a vegan. This shows what a monster Hitler was.

Hitler was a non-drinker, while I sip on craft beer with my partners.

Look at how Hitler dressed! The cringe! Nobody knew how to dress in 1944.

Also, Hitler was charismatic and driven.

I’m not.

Hitler had intelligence and courage.

I don’t.

Hitler had a soul, even if he was evil.

I just have genes. I can’t be evil because naturalism leads to determinism.

Hitler believed in straight white male supremacy, while I believe in equality.

I heard from others that equality is desirable, and thanks to my brain evolving to hear this claim and agree with it, it was determined that I would agree with it and repeat it.

People with souls feel validation from just being themselves. I need to feel validation from others being the same as me in order to feel I belong in the universe.

I know deep down that none of us are equal, but I believe in trying to make it so.

I guess you could say I believe in false equivalence.

Critical Masterpiece

In Search Of An Expert

Brian and Neil were casually walking around their college campus when Neil decided to enlighten Brian.

Neil: How can you still believe in that God stuff, my dude? So because a bunch of people told you about a burning bush and a man rising from the dead, you’re just going to believe them?

Brian: Sure. Why not?

Neil: Because you’re just blindly trusting what people say. There is no scientific evidence to support these claims, and the evidence scientists have found directly contradicts what is in the Bible.

Brian: So why do you believe what scientists say? You’re also just believing what people tell you.

Neil: Because scientists are experts.

Brian: How do you know they’re experts?

Neil: Because they have degrees in the field.

Brian: But who awarded them those degrees?

Neil: Prestigious universities.

Brian: You mean people who run prestigious universities?

Neil: Yes. In the science departments, specifically.

Brian: Why should we trust those people on who is named an expert?

Neil: Because they’re experts themselves. They already have degrees.

Brian: Who gave them their degrees?

Neil: Are we going to do an infinite regress?

Brian: Who awarded the first degree?

Neil: I don’t know off the top of my head. But I would assume it was a panel of experts who started a specific degree program. Here, we’re by Shlong Hall. Let’s see if any of the administrators in this building can help us with this question.

Brian and Neil enter Shlong Hall and take the elevator to the University of California-Homosexual Bureaucracy Center on the second floor. They ask the secretary whom she recommends they speak to about the matter, and she recommends the Senior Director of Administrative Operations, Dr. Jack Goff.

Brian and Neil wait for 30 minutes, as Dr. Goff is busy discussing the implementation of strategies and the development of initiatives with a board member. When the board member exits his office, Dr. Goff agrees to speak to Brian and Neil.

Dr. Goff: Come on in, gentlemen. Have a seat. What brings you by today?

Neil: Brian here is a science denier and a member of the cult of God. He doesn’t believe in science like us enlightened, rational skeptics do. He did have an interesting question about the history of college, though, and since our phones make it a nuisance to read the information on Wikipedia that came from reliable secondary sources, we thought we’d stop by and ask someone with expertise in person.

Brian: What Neil is snarkily referring to is…I asked him how we ground supposed experts’ expertise. He kept referring to people being awarded degrees, and I asked him who awarded the first degree. In other words, who is the original expert, and how do we know that person is an expert?

Dr. Goff: Well, that’s a tricky question to answer. Degrees have been around in some form or another since the ninth century. But that’s not really what you’re interested in, because there were experts before there were ever degrees. In fact, it was those experts who created the degree in the first place.

Brian: I see. So how can we know the people who were considered experts and started the awarding of degrees were actually experts?

Dr. Goff: We can’t. You’ve just got to have faith.