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The Week’s Most Preening, Demeaning, and Halloweening Headlines

HEAVY ARTERIAL BOMBARDMENT
Nobody’s saying 550-pound BLM activist Zyahna Bryant is fat, but…

George Floyd died because she inhaled in front of him and depleted all the oxygen for five square blocks. The Libyan flood happened after she did a cannonball into the Mediterranean. Her love of omelets single-handedly inflated the price of eggs. She tripped on a sidewalk and caused the Moroccan earthquake. She once protested a Confederate statue by sitting on it, and it hasn’t been seen again. She tried skydiving and caused an eclipse. Worse still, she was too heavy for the chute; her rapid descent took out a Gaza hospital.

She was considered for the lead role in Hidden Figures, but the producers realized that even Kilimanjaro couldn’t hide her figure. Still, Bryant does make good money from the residuals she receives for her role as the Raiders of the Lost Ark boulder.

“Afroby Dick” is best known for having ruined a white UVA student’s life by falsely accusing her of making anti-BLM comments. Last month, as a reward for destroying a white chick, Dove soap made Bryant their “brand ambassador” to promote “fat liberation” (“chunkers of the world unite!”).

And now, Dove’s tormenting New Yorkers by plastering the subway with posters of Bryant showing off her hairy armpits.

The biggest losers? The schizo homeless, who are complaining that the sight of the posters is causing commuters to jump in front of trains before they can be pushed.

Turns out “fat liberation” is also weighing heavily on U.S. armed forces. The obesity rate among the active duty is now at 21.6 percent. Today’s American soldiers can’t do ten jumping jacks without creating a foxhole.

And the Biden administration’s solution? Better physical fitness? Stricter recruitment standards? Removing the all-you-can-eat jelly doughnut stations in mess halls?

Nope. It’s “end fat shaming!”

Yep. Stop shaming fatties and they’ll get thinner…words of wisdom from the same people who say stop imprisoning criminals and they’ll stop committing crimes.

The U.S. may not be capable of another Normandy, but it’s totally ready for the next Gourmandy.

FRIGID BARDOT
Iceland’s population—roughly the size of a freeway traffic jam in L.A.—has remained small because Iceland avoided the Third World “refugee” invasion that’s destroying the rest of Europe. And the reason for Iceland’s good fortune is obvious: Migrants assume that all Icelandic fries are cold.

But it’s a rule in “look how woke and introspective we are” white countries that even if you don’t have strife thrust upon you, you must create some for yourself. Even though Iceland is the world’s “most gender-equal society,” having “closed 91.2% of its gender gap according to the Global Gender Gap Index,” Icelandic women went on strike last week, because what the hell else is there to do in Iceland but drink and complain?

The goal of the strikers was to “stop the Icelandic economy for an entire day.”

And what is the Icelandic economy? Aluminum foil. Yes, the next time you line that cooking pan, thank an Icelander.

“Thank you, Iceland. You made post-dinner cleanup slightly less time-consuming.”

Surely a greater achievement than curing polio or putting a man on the moon.

Interestingly, Iceland uses the British spelling of “aluminium.” And for Americans curious about why the British spell it that way, the reason is, the men in that weak and crippled ex-empire love to get one opportunity a night to act like a powerful James Bond villain: “Honey, I’m wrapping the bangers for the fridge. BRING ME THE AL-YOO-MINNY-UM! BWA-HA-HA-HA!”

Thankfully, the one-day Icelandic foil strike didn’t affect America’s heroin smokers.

To reassure her fellow Europeans that the strike was a one-off, Iceland’s Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir held a conference call with Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte, as both are members of the “stupid language nobody else speaks” club. A transcript of the call reads as follows:

Jakobsdóttir: “Mjög borð gæt hafnarf.”

Rutte: “Moop ook boom boop.”

It was still more intelligible than anything Joe Biden’s said in ten years.

STROKE OF GENIUS
The only thing worse than losing to a stroke victim is having voters say, “I’m glad you lost to a stroke victim.”

Mehmet “Dr.” Oz vs. John Fetterman was not the GOP’s finest hour. Of course, that phrase has lost a certain amount of meaning over the past few years, because a political party needs to have at least a few “fine hours” to contrast with the “not-fine” ones. So perhaps it’s better to say that regarding the GOP’s recent streak of not-fine hours, Oz v. Fetterman was one of the not-finest.

The Republican strategy during that election was to mock Fetterman’s stroke.

“Hah! Derp-a-derp! Look at the derp! He can’t even speak in clear sentences! Derpy-derpy-derp!”

Considering that each year nearly 800,000 Americans suffer a stroke, meaning that at any given time there are millions of stroke victims in the electorate and tens of millions of family members of stroke victims, mocking a stroke victim as “derpy-derpy-derp” might, in retrospect, have been a poor strategy.

And over the past few weeks, as the GOP repeatedly humiliated itself in its search for a new House speaker in a clown show so humiliating it makes Benny Hill look sophisticated, Fetterman’s been fearlessly standing up to his party’s Jew-haters regarding Hamas. Again and again, Fetterman’s displayed rare integrity, slamming his party, his supporters, and even some of his staffers for their pro-Hamas rhetoric, to the point where Slate whined that he’s “too” anti-Hamas.

This as American Jews are finally starting to realize that some of their supposed “allies” really hate them.

When leftists around the country began ripping down posters of kidnapped Israeli hostages, Fetterman responded by plastering his office with the posters, as Republicans were too busy fighting over whether the new speaker should make his first priority the release of J6 prisoners or the slaying of Moloch for stealing the 2020 election.

Turns out the GOPs were the derps the whole time.

It’s a classic horror-movie trope.

“We traced the call…the derp is coming from inside the House!”

HITLER FOR THE WIN!
It’s the big game! You gather round with your best buds to cheer on your home team. There’s beer aplenty, chips, dip, and hot wings to spare.

The perfect day to watch football.

Wait, one thing’s missing…

Hitler!

Yes, what’s Monday Night Football without genocide?

Last week, as crowds at Michigan State were waiting to cheer on the Spartans, the school thought it would be fun to use the stadium’s JumboTron to host a trivia game…about Hitler.

Spectators snapped photos of the image of a noble-looking Hitler, standing under the Spartans’ logo, with the question “Can you name Hitler’s birth country?”

Other questions included: “In the final score of dead Jews, did Hitler cover the spread?” “What year did Hitler first use the Heil Mary pass?” “Name the Einsatzgruppen’s greatest shotgun formation.” “Was the murder of Europe’s Jews the first example of a nose tackle?” And “Ray Lewis or Hitler: Who was better at the Blitz?”

Following the inevitable outcry, Michigan State apologized for glorifying “Adolph” Hitler. The misspelling proved that the apology came from the university and not some slick PR firm, because only someone with a Michigan State education would make such an idiotic error.

Hopefully no similar führer fumbles occur at next week’s matchup between the Philadelphia Eagles Nests and the Cleveland Brauns.

FED/UP
Brookhaven, Mississippi, is 60 percent black. So, believe it or not, the city has a crime problem.

You can probably guess D’Monterrio Gibson’s race from his name. Suffice it to say that when he places an UberEats order, the delivery guy texts his wife, “I love you. Look after the kids.”

Gibson works, well, worked as a FedEx driver. And for some baffling reason, one day in January 2022 FedEx decided to send Gibson on his rounds in an unmarked rental van with Florida plates. Exactly the vehicle you want in neighborhoods where packages are routinely pilfered.

Brandon Case and his father, Gregory—two long-bearded white hillbillies whose family crest contains a jug and washboard—saw the unmarked van loitering on a dead-end street near a family member’s house (cousin, sister, wife? Could be all three). Thinking a robbery was in progress, the crime-fighting duo of Hatfield & McCoy jumped into their pickup and chased Gibson out of the neighborhood, the younger Case firing at the van as it sped away.

Daddy and junior Case are now on trial for attempted murder (the first prosecution ended in a mistrial after ol’ Zeke the hound dog broke wind and stunk up the courtroom somethin’ fierce). And Gibson? After losing a $5 million suit against FedEx (ironically, even though the company clearly put the poor bastard in danger, because the reckless negligence wasn’t racial in nature, a judge denied the suit. Maybe it was a mistake to make racism the only actionable offense against an employer), Gibson now wants to continue working as a driver for the company…but from home.

And FedEx was like, “Uh…how’s that even possible?”

And Gibson replied, “I’m a wronged black man. Make it happen!”

So they fired him.

Gibson plans to sue. Again.

Meanwhile, the L.A. Times ran a 2,168-word opus about how all over the country blacks are refusing to give up remote work because staying at home keeps them safe from “racism.” Black workers told the Times that venturing outside jeopardizes their “mental health.” They demand that companies allow blacks to stay home, away from public spaces, 24/7.

To which everyone else in America replied, “Your terms are acceptable.”