Latest posts
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Mickey Mouse Buys the World: A Love Letter to Disney’s Hostile Embrace
Some people collect stamps. Some people collect vinyl. Disney? They collect entire cultural ecosystems, slot them into a vault, slap a mouse-shaped watermark on the front, and charge you $14.99 a month to visit your own memories. When the history of modern capitalism is written, there will be a whole chapter titled The Seven Deadly
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America, We’re Toast: A Love Letter from the Heatwave That Won’t Quit
Somewhere between Phoenix and the inside of a convection oven, the United States decided to see how far it could push the concept of “summer” before it became “slow-roasting.” The answer, apparently, is right now.
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Jesus Chicken Does Autumn: Chick-fil-A’s New Fall Menu Drops Like a Leaf in a Storm of Selective Morality
Chick-fil-A, America’s favorite drive-thru confessional booth, has decided it’s time for sweater weather, PSL selfies, and the annual reminder that even God’s chosen poultry can rebrand when the leaves turn. This fall, they’ve unleashed a lineup so quaintly autumnal you’d almost forget their corporate tithe ledger still smells faintly of sanctified bigotry.
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The Day America Put Its Wallet on Airplane Mode
It’s August 9th, and somewhere in the depths of a Facebook group with 36 admins and one uncle named Gary, The People’s Union USA has declared a nationwide economic blackout. The instructions are simple: buy only essentials. No lattes. No Amazon impulse “must-haves” at 2 a.m. No Sephora “just to look.” Today, we flex our…
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From the ER to Elder Care: How My Career Inspired Sunset on Cloud Nine
Read Sunset on Cloud Nine here | Visit my Amazon Author Page Before I ever wrote Sunset on Cloud Nine, I lived it. I started my nursing career in the chaos of the Emergency Room — the kind of place where “normal” means treating a gunshot victim while a drunk guy in the next bay
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Silence of the Stern: The $500 Million Whisper at the End of the Dial
Howard Stern’s contract with SiriusXM, ending in 2025, faces uncertainty as the company considers not renewing it amid dwindling subscriptions and shifting media landscapes. Once a revolutionary figure in radio, Stern’s expensive legacy now seems misaligned with modern content preferences, reflecting a broader decline of traditional audio platforms in an evolving industry.
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To the Moon, With Malice: Sean Duffy, Space Nukes, and the Bold American Tradition of Saying “Oops” in Orbit
Because nothing says “we’ve got this under control” like a man best known for The Real World: Boston now overseeing the launch of a nuclear reactor on the moon, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy—yes, that Sean Duffy—is expected to announce new directives to fast-track lunar radiation and orbital real estate development in what experts are calling
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President Trump Wants a Task Force for the LA Olympics. I Assume It Will Wear Matching Windbreakers.
Nothing says “we’ve learned nothing from history” quite like handing Donald J. Trump executive oversight of an international sporting event. The man who once tried to host a G7 summit at his own golf resort is now assembling a task force to oversee the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics. Because nothing inspires global trust like the
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America: Where the Policy Changes But the Passive-Aggression Stays the Same
Somewhere between the overturned classified documents and the overturned convictions, the Trump administration (yes, that one again) decided to quietly reverse a decades-old policy that withheld federal aid from states that penalized individuals or companies for not participating in Israel boycotts. Don’t worry if you missed it—most people were too busy photoshopping mugshots onto T-shirts
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The Blonde Upstairs Is Gone: On Loni Anderson, Loss, and the Women Who Knew the Assignment
Somewhere in America, a bottle-blonde receptionist in a sleeveless satin blouse just took a long drag off her Virginia Slim and said, “Well, shit.” Then she turned off the office lights and walked herself gently into the dusk. Loni Anderson died yesterday. Seventy-nine. A “prolonged illness,” her publicist confirmed, as though time itself weren’t already