Federal Investigation Into the Magical Growing Fruit Farm of Farmer Maroo: Employee Interviews, by Brandon Hicks

fruitOn September 13, 2014, a complaint was a made by a Francis R. Wiggleworm concerning the food production by The Magical Growing Farm. Mr. Wiggleworm alleges that the company creates its world-famous magical fruit and flibbleberries by using illegal chemicals and through unregulated genetic alteration. A investigative team was sent to the farm, located past the Wumpa-Wumpa Jungles, over the Bee-Doo-Wap river, and through the Hubba-Wampistat Mountains, to conduct interviews with the employees of the business. The following are partial transcripts from these interviews. 

Employe No. 223501
“Listen, don’t you think someone would have broken the silence before now, if there was something illicit, unnatural, or potentially harmful with the fruit? We have hundreds of people currently employed by the The Magical Growing Fruit Farm. Over the past 125 years—thousands. Doesn’t the fact that nobody has ever come out and complained about any unlawful genetic mutation of the fruit mean something to you people? Many have every reason to want to whistle-blow, if there was, in fact, something to whistle-blow about. I mean, our workers have to carry 400-pound spuds up the Flubbawubba Hills and through the Kiddamonno trees every day. And trust me when I say that feat is no small potatoes.”


“I’m not trying to be funny! I’m just simply stating the obvious fact that in the more than 120 years prior to Mr. Wiggleworm’s claims, no employee, currently or formerly employed, has ever come out against the farm.”

Employe No. 223445
“I can’t see how that is relevant. Any farm that’s old enough has a history of slave labor.”



An Excerpt From ‘FUDS: A Complete Encyclofoodia’

FUDS - 9781620403143FUDS began in 2012 as a parody menu satirizing the foodie scene, food blogs, and, mostly, pretentious food words. (The menu includes “thick crust stringer chunks,” “crab dorks,” and “sea sucklers towered over a seaweed sleeping bag and calmed with a menthol pillow.”)  Named by GQ as one of its “100 Funniest Things in the History of the Internet," the work of "Alfredo and Antonio Mizretto" has expanded to a whole book, FUDS: A Complete Encyclofoodia (From Tickling Shrimp to Not Dying in a Restaurant). Probably the most complete book ever written on cooking and eating not real food, the book, like the website, is actually written by Kelly Hudson (Thing X, Adult Swim), Dan Klein (Funny or Die, Comedy Bang! Bang!), and Arthur Meyer (The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon). Here’s an excerpt, “Kitchen Things.”

A lot of people think that cooking is just throwing a bunch of ingredients together and getting them all hot. That’s true, but there are plenty of tools that can help ease the process. Here are a few of our favorites. We recommend you spend a lot of money on them.

Air, Surfaces, and Space
The three most important things you’ll need in your kitchen are breath­able air, matter in the shape of surfaces, and spatial dimensions. Without air, you cannot breathe; without surfaces, you have no place to put the food; and without dimensions, you would be floating in an endless white void, and that’s no good for cooking.

Hands are the two things that hang off the ends of your arms. They’re great for grabbing, holding, throwing, placing, and tickling your food. You get them for free when you are born. They’re easy to maintain, too. Just remember to wash them at least once a week.

For spanking food when it’s cooking too loudly in the pan. READ MORE


Why My Anime Girlfriend is Much Cooler Than My Stepmom Brenda, by Devin Rosni

animeHaving an anime girlfriend is the coolest thing in the world! My girlfriend Kukuru Megumi is the most awesome character on my favorite anime TV show Wolf Mirage Schoolgirl. Kukuru does not even mind that I am only 11 years old. She is the best girlfriend ever!

My stepmom Brenda married my dad two years ago and she sucks. Brenda does not speak Japanese at all. Sometimes she tells me what to do and I tell her, “NO BRENDA, YOU ARE NOT MY MOM!”  I hate when that happens.

Here are a few reasons why my girlfriend Kukuru is way cooler than Brenda.


Kukuru has the hugest beautiful orange eyes because her grandfather was half dragon. Her outfits are so sexy but not in a way that is too inappropriate. I like that her hair is long and pink. When she summons her fire spirit her hair turns white and that is pretty cool, too. Even though Kukuru is immortal, she looks like she is only 16.

Brenda has boring brown hair. She also has brown eyes and says it is because she is “mostly Welsh.” She always wears way more makeup than Mom used to. Brenda is 34 years old but she looks about 110 years old.  One time I told her that she would be prettier if her nose wasn’t so bumpy and my dad grounded me from the computer. READ MORE


I Am Pleased to Inform You That Someone Now Has a Tattoo Inspired by You and/or Your Work, by Molly Bradley

soitgoesDear Author,

Congratulations! You must have done something right, because something you wrote has inspired someone to imprint an excerpted portion, representation, allusion, or overt reference to it on a part of their body, to remain there forever.

Please do appreciate what it means for a person to go ahead and do this. For one, the kind of person who would get a tattoo of a literary nature is surely a voracious reader. This person has read countless words that he or she did not deem fit to emblazon permanently on his or her person, probably because they were not moving enough or too trite or even too commonly tattooed on other people, other people who are not such discriminate readers.

Then this person read your words, and was like, Wow, I feel very strongly that these words should be injected into my skin in Black Buddha 100% ULTRA BLACK Tattoo Ink (Darkest). Probably because your words were, conversely, not at all trite, but rather a spectacular and singular combination of nouns, verbs, pronouns, articles, conjunctions, and possibly even adjectives (though probably not adverbs, if the person is an avid reader, because s/he knows better) that expressed a sentiment that could be either totally unique or wholly universal.

Perhaps the words you wrote that this person now sports on his or her wrist/ankle/inner arm/thigh/rib/at sort of an angle between his/her left earlobe and neck, because the back of the neck is sort of overdone, are words whose meaning, strung together, is immediately apparent and accessible to anyone who sees the tattoo, inspiring a sense of community even among those who haven’t read your words, who perhaps don’t read at all, who perhaps may not even bother to read the words on the body part in question on the person in question and assume, cutting to the chase much more swiftly and simply, that this person has experienced something so extremely profound that s/he was endowed with the spiritual strength to allot a significant portion of a paycheck toward an hour or two spent in an uncomfortable position semi-clothed before a burly yet well-groomed man with a handlebar mustache and forearm piercings hammering a thinnish needle into his/her skin.

You should really feel good about this. READ MORE


The 16 Best Comedy Books of 2014

bookshelvesTo add to your diet of comedy consumption which is likely already at critical mass, what with the comedy movies, sitcoms, sketch comedy shows, web videos, Twitter feed, and novelty T-shirts, here's your reading list: the best comedy books of 2014. This year had an especially delightful selection of comedy and comedy-related books. Here then are some of the comedy history, comedy theory, comedy memoirs, comic essay collections, and comic novels that stood out. READ MORE


Kale's Agent Convinces It To Do a Soup for Olive Garden, by Steven An

kaleListen Kale, I know you’re not gonna like this, but it’s a good opportunity, and it’s good pay, and if you do this one then the next one will be something just for you.

Don’t give me that look. Will you just hear me out? Okay, okay. So it’s just a supporting role; everyone knows that you can do a good salad. This is a little different, but it’s something I know you’d still be good in.

Geez, okay. It’s a soup. For Olive Garden.

Come on Kale, that’s nonsense. You gotta do this one! You have to do this one! No one’s gonna think you’re selling out, and the people that say those things don’t understand the business we’re in. I mean, look at Pineapple. Everyone, except for me, was telling her not to do the pizza thing and just look at how happy she is with Ham. Have you seen their beach house in Hawaii? Or look at Coconut. Do you think she went from scraping by on luau dancers’ tits to making millions off water by playing it safe?

You don’t wanna get typecast like Watermelon.



Thank You For Financing My Diss Track, by Erik Cofer

disstrackMom, Dad, I feel like it's finally time for me to come clean about my latest project. You remember that $20,000 you loaned me six months ago? Well, it wasn't for "paying off gambling debt" like I claimed. The money actually financed a studio-quality recording in which I mercilessly rip the both of you to shreds over sonic layers of flawlessly-mixed hip-hop. In the music community, we call this a "diss track."

Before you rush to judgment, let me just say that this isn't about you. Not entirely, at least. I also recorded diss tracks to my landlord, my former landlords, some guy at Dairy Queen who gave me the stink eye, and Kanye West. I've dropped eight tracks so far, but it seems "Herez 2 Tha Phoniez Who Raised Me" is the only one that's gone viral. And yes, Mom, I realize that you and Dad are technically my only former landlords, but if you actually take the time to listen to "Phony Azz Landlordz," I think you'll agree I raise some valid grievances about the overall levels of bitchassness I faced in that joint.

All that aside, I'm really looking forward to you guys hearing what I've been spitting. I know I'm not the most objective critic to weigh in here, but I seriously feel like there are some verses in "Herez 2 Tha Phoniez" that are so beautifully poignant and mesh so well with the synth beats that they just make you want to sock your own mother in the face.



NASA's Response to a Child Prodigy, by Ian Abramson

nasaDear Sammy,

Let me be the first to say how impressed we here at NASA were to receive such an ambitious spaceship design from a six-year-old. The details in your blueprints would have been impressive for a 12-year-old prodigy, let alone a six-year-old prodigy.

While we were deeply impressed with your innovative use of solar panels, we did have a few notes that we thought would strengthen your overall design. Please understand we aren't just writing to criticize. In fact, take this as a sure sign that we want to put your rocket in space as quickly as we can. We expect to get it in orbit before your bar mitzvah.

Here are some notes from our top engineers:

1. After a long discussion, most of us agreed that there are way too many laser guns. Most of our rockets have absolutely no lasers; you have more than 15 in various areas on the rocket. Also you’ll find it to be much more aerodynamic if you remove the three bayonets on the top of your rocket.



The Real Israeli-Palestinian Crisis is My Lack of Knowledge About it, by Evan Waite

gazaMy ignorance of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict shows no signs of stopping, and is from all indications worse than ever. It’s time to take a good, hard look at how uninformed I am.

Just this week, I heard someone say that the death toll rose in Gaza after Israel escalated its air assault. Whatever side of this conflict you find yourself on, I think we can all agree it is truly heartbreaking that I don’t understand what the term “Gaza” means.

Is it some sort of army base? Or a mythical mountain where the gold is hidden? I’m pretty sure it’s not underwater.

Left unchecked, the repercussions of this ignorance will be felt for years to come. Especially once I start raising children and have to teach them stuff.

Just this week, hundreds of people were wounded in attacks presumably unleashed by the king of Israel, who may or may not be that Arafat guy I heard Craig Ferguson mention in a monologue once. I didn’t really understand the joke, but I laughed anyway because he made a funny face.

Day after day, the dire situation inside my brain continues to deteriorate. As recently as a few days ago, I wasted nearly 20 minutes on Google Earth trying to locate the city of Hamas. READ MORE


An Airbnb Review of Charles and Linda's Unique Private Room, by Spencer Ham

racecarbedOkay, first of all, stop looking for other Airbnb rooms in San Francisco right now. Just stop, because nothing will beat Charles and Linda’s private room. I stayed in their home for six nights and it cost me a grand total of zero dollars. That's right. This large, centrally located, beautiful space is free. F-r-e-e.

Now, there are some ground rules, but that’s to be expected. You will be required to wear a uniform. I know it sounds a little weird, but hey, a free room is a free room. The outfit consists of cargo shorts, an Angry Birds T-shirt, some Crocs, and a Webelos hat that has “Danny” written on it. They have various sizes for all of these items so you’ll be able to find one that fits you. It may not look chic, but it’s actually pretty comfortable for walking around in the city.

The room has A LOT of character. The bed is shaped like a racecar and is definitely on the smaller side, but it’s very comfortable. Also, if you’re a dinosaur fan (and c’mon, who isn’t?) you’ll be in heaven, because the walls are covered in them.

The house is pretty quiet most of the time, but be warned: You will periodically hear loud sobbing throughout the house, but it eventually fades away.

Linda and Charles are such a quirky older couple! I love them. They have one of those relationships that you hope to have when you get to that age. Charles can come off as a grump, but just know that deep down he’s a sweetheart. For example, he might ignore your presence and occasionally he’ll erupt at Linda, screaming things like “This isn’t normal!” and “We need to listen to Dr. Rollins’ advice!” Then he’ll storm out for hours at a time, but he’ll eventually come back and embrace her for hours on the staircase. It’s sweet. READ MORE


Letting My Parents Know, by Blake Henderson

Mom. Dad. Thanks for meeting me here.

I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for years, but I’ve just been pushing it off. I don’t even know why I couldn’t do it. I guess I was just scared of what you would do. How you would react. What you’d tell your friends. And I mean, it’s not like I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be a part of my life. I didn’t do it because I wanted to protect you from the truth. And I know that was selfish— because I literally owe everything to you. But I’m sick of living in the darkness and the shadows of a life where I can’t be myself and voice the opinions that make me, I guess, me. And that’s an example of the type of morals that you ingrained in me all throughout my life. And I couldn’t be more grateful for all that you’ve done. So, I guess, here goes nothing. Just remember how much I love you.

I…I’m…what I’m trying to say is…what I’ve realized about myself is that I’m really only interested in…cloud-based solutions. I know you probably didn’t see this coming— or maybe you did—but I just wanted to let you know firsthand. In this day in age, I’m pretty sure that scaling integrated solutions in the new global business environment can really only be achieved by maximizing the effectiveness of shared computational resources. I honestly believe that. And just in case there’s some confusion, let me spell it out for you: Cloud resources are not only shared by multiple users but are also dynamically reallocated per demand. And that’s what I need! Platform as a service! READ MORE


A Profile of Acting Legend John C. Reilly, by Blythe Roberson

reillyI’m assigned to write a profile of acting legend John C. Reilly. It’s an assignment of a lifetime. Wait. In a lifetime. It’s an assignment in my lifetime. In preparation, I decide to watch his films to study his technique. There’s just one problem: I still can’t figure out Netflix.

The day of the interview, I ride my skateboard 7 miles from my apartment to meet him at a restaurant that turns out to be next door to my apartment. So that’s why I suggested that deli, I realize after 3.5 miles.

I walk through the door to see acting legend John C. Reilly already waiting. I look at him and think, He’s the kind of guy who played Mr. Collins in a high school production of Pride and Prejudice. I pull out my journal to write down the thought in case I want to use it in something I write someday.

The man sitting across from me, drinking a mug of some hot brown liquid that smells coffee-y, is different than I imagined. In person, he looks like a man out of a Will Ferrell movie. Like Will Ferrell. Or maybe John C. Reilly.



Angels Trade the Cruel Passage of Time to the Cubs for a Reminder of Your Own Mortality, by Pablo Goldstein

Image.aspxESPN’s Tim Kurkjian reports that the Anaheim Angels have traded minor league infielder Matt Scioscia to the Chicago Cubs for outfielder Trevor Gretzky.

Gretzky, the son of hockey legend Wayne Gretzky and an abrupt reminder of how little time you have left in your short, insignificant life, was selected in the seventh round of the 2011 First-Year Player Draft. The left-hander is expected to start for the Inland Empire 66ers where he will bat 5th in the lineup and emphasize the coming winter of your existence.

Scioscia, the son of longtime Angels manager and former big-league catcher Mike Scioscia, will make his debut for the Boise Hawks later this year. While the infielder isn’t predicted to start, he will remind you of the crushing realization that you are turning into your father despite all the steps you took to ensure that would never happen.

“We just felt this was the best opportunity for Matt to get some playing time,” Angels general manager Jerry Depoto said of the trade that revived the existential understanding that you’re just one of billions of humans hurtling around the sun at 70,000 m.p.h. “And in return, we’re getting a really great kid as well,” Depoto added, not recognizing that the death rattle of the Grim Reaper comes for us all. READ MORE


Letter to My Husband as He Tries to French Kiss Me, by Devorah Blachor

Dear Sweetheart,

Gosh, it’s been a long day, hasn’t it? I’m beat. If I closed my eyes right now, I’d fall into Stage 4 sleep and stay there until someone shook me so violently that I’d wake up and say something crazy in a panic-stricken voice like, “Where are the elbow pipettes?”

Let me say that it’s so great to know that you’re still attracted to me. It makes all the hours we spend guessing which of our couple friends still have good sex even more entertaining. Remember when we started dating and you used to spontaneously massage the arches of my feet because you claimed you enjoyed it? In those days I’d say things to myself like, “The guy’s a total romantic,” and this completely short-sighted and self-serving assessment really helped trick me into a monogamous relationship. And now here we are! And at no extra cost, here’s your tongue, too!

You sure do like to French kiss, don’t you? Swollen glands, work deadlines, nausea—nothing deters you from this fun activity. You’re single-minded like a microbiologist examining mouse mammary glands over and over and over because you’re sure that it will either cure cancer or help produce an acetate that will revolutionize the way we produce lipstick.

It reminds me of that time years ago when we were at a party and the woman with the boobs was so amused by your joke that she had to put her hand on your chest to hold herself up while she laughed. And then afterwards when I protested that you were flirting, you dismissed my concerns as paranoid and a second later you were French kissing me and all I could feel was bitterness about those early foot massages because when we moved in together, you abandoned them to become a cybernetically-enhanced supersoldier battling aliens while attempting to uncover the secrets of Halo. READ MORE