In 1978, Randy Newman wrote a half-assed song called "Short People," released it as a single, and kind of assumed that people would understand that it was a parody of assorted prejudices. Instead, he got threats from people—possibly short ones—who heard lyrics like "Short people got no reason/To live," missed the joke entirely, so he spent a lot of years hating "Short People," if not short people.
One of the last verses in the song has the repeated line "Short people got nobody/To love," and despite Newman's not-at-all serious premise, that seems to be true for at least one short person on Long Island. Or at least that's why he went absolutely fucking bonkers in a Bagel Boss this morning.
The breakfast crowd at the Bagel Boss in Bay Shore, New York was treated to this piece of performance art from a self-described short man, who used his fun-sized stature as an excuse to rant at the restaurant's female employees.
"This man walked into Bagel Boss this morning flipping out on a worker that was making his breakfast calling her names and claiming she had a smerk [sic] on her face," Diana Reyes, a customer in the store, posted on Facebook. "When other people got involved telling him to stop being rude and sticking up for the working this is what happened. He began ranting about women in the shop. smh i cannot believe this."
That's presumably when Reyes started filming. At the beginning of the beyond-viral clip, someone asks him why it's OK for him to degrade women. "Degra–Why is it OK for women to say 'Oh, you're five feet [tall]' on dating sites? 'You should be dead,' that's OK???" he yells back at her.
"Who said that to you here?" the woman asks him off-camera. "Nobody."
He responded by continuing to yell. "Women in general have said it on dating sites. You think I'm making that shit up? Everywhere I go, I get the same fucking smirk with the biting lip," he said. (With an attitude like that, maybe his height isn't why he's striking out on Christian Mingle or whatever?)
When another customer tells him to knock it off, he turns around, jabs his finger at the man, and says, "Shut your mouth! You're not God, or my father, or my boss." He continues to challenge the other customers, telling one of them to "go ahead and attack me." We don't want to spoil it, but it's probably not a great idea to tell someone to attack you unless you're fully on-board with being pinned down on a narrow strip of commercial-grade carpet.
Although the original video stops with the man flat on his back in front of this morning's bagel selection, a second customer posted his own video of "what happen [sic] next." Mr. Five Feet, who is now standing upright, yells, "Fuck your fuckin' breakfast," and throws his own to-go bagel on the ground. He spends another 30 seconds yelling at "all you women" before stomping out the door.
Although that guy may not be welcomed back (like, ever), Donald Rosner, who owns several Bagel Boss locations, tweeted that any other customer who mentions the video will get a free mini-bagel. (The actual Bagel Boss, throwing mad shade). And Long Island-based Blue Point Brewing is using the video as potential inspiration for a new beer. "This morning we wanted a bagel, now we need a little beer," it tweeted, along with two Bagel Boss-inspired labels.
The most relatable moment in that entire tantrum happened as Rant-Man was being tackled to the ground. "Oh my god," a woman sighed off-camera. "I just wanted bagels."
One of the most disheartening signs of our advancing hellscape are the thousands of people who wholeheartedly believe in the deranged conspiracy known as QAnon.
It's near impossible to summarize the entire QAnon conspiracy theory, as it’s fluid and ever-changing. The nuts and bolts are that a secret government insider, the titular Q, has taken to the internet forum 8chan of all places to drop clues (known in the community as Q Drops breadcrumbs) about how U.S. President Donald Trump is taking down the deep state. The conspiracy takes some twists and turns into the occult, an ever-present cabal of pedophiles, possible executions, and the idea that JFK Jr. may have faked his own death and is cosplaying as an old guy who goes to Trump rallies.
While the QAnon conspiracy often feels like an elaborate troll, an online community of real, actual people has been built up around it. There’s been a lot written about how lonely these people are, how they will cut themselves off from their family (and eat sad sandwiches during holidays), and poking fun at the whole thing. Rick Ross, a cult deprogrammer and executive director of the nonprofit Cult Education Institute, says the community bears a lot of the hallmarks of a cult: The main character is infallible and everything is part of a greater plan.
And because it's unfolding online, "it becomes hard to [penetrate],” Ross said. “[Followers] spend all their watching time Q material on YouTube, dialoguing with different people online, and becoming consumed by that world online. ”
No one knows how hard it is to break through a bubble one creates around themselves than loved ones. While maybe it’s funny for those outside peering in, what is it like for those who are close to them, the people who experience their loved one's brain being rotted by YouTubers breaking down 8chan posts in real time?
I decided to seek them out. I found a woman whose husband became so obsessed with YouTube conspiracy videos he would follow her around the house and force her to watch them, someone who avoids their mother because of Q, and someone who was dumped by the man she loved because she actively attempted to debunk QAnon. Here are their stories.
Interviews have been edited for length and clarity. Names have been changed for the protection of both the sources and their loved ones.
Deb
Deb told VICE that her mother had always suffered from mental health issues, but it wasn't until recently that she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a personality disorder, and PTSD. Deb's parents' belief in QAnon started when they decided to get rid of cable TV and start watching YouTube a few years ago.
My mother is in her mid-60s and a Q cult member. It has made dealing with her mental issues that much harder. She had a hard time anyway dealing with the real world, and now the world is so much worse for her because of all the horrible things the cult deals with: devil worship, sex trafficking, children being tortured and eaten or used as sex slaves. She describes the horrible world we live in now with tears in her eyes and frustration in her tone, knowing that I don't believe her.
I've tried and tried to show her facts, only to have fake news thrown in my face. How do you disprove anything when everything that's different from what the Q cult says is considered fake news? I asked her how she could believe someone who doesn't even use his real name. How can you believe someone who has to have everything he says decoded by people you don't know anything about?
Faith was her answer. Follow the plan, and you'll see when the mass arrests happen and Trump is the unsung hero that is going to save the world. I'd found it more plausible if she said the aliens are going to land on the White House lawn and take over the United States.
My father follows Q too. He's not as pushy about it as my mother is. He's been doing a lot better now that I've found him a hobby. Not being on YouTube 24/7 has also helped.
It's the ones with the deep mental disorders that really stick with it.
I can't really spend any time with my mother because all she'll want to talk about is Q, and I refuse. We used to go swimming at the lake, go shopping, have lunch, or just talk like a mother and daughter should, but that doesn't happen much anymore. I dread talking to her. I avoid her. I love her and care, but this Q cult crap has driven a wedge that is there even when we don't talk about it.
I've done my research. I've watched the videos, and my conclusion is that this person who claims to be Q is nothing more than a LARPer [live-action role player] who couldn't come up with an original thought if they tried. Everything is taken from other conspiracies or straight from movies and TV shows. All this LARPer had to do was add in a little bit of truth, a dash of the occult, a few villains, and a hero—and we have QAnon.
We can't ignore the danger that QAnon poses for the upcoming elections; you better believe each and every one of Q's followers will be voting, including my mother who hasn't voted in an election since Nixon. They'll be voting with information that they got from a LARPer, and in my mind, that's worse than Russian interference.
If I could get my hands on the piece of shit that started QAnon, I might end up in jail. This person has made my mother's life sadder, and our relationship almost nonexistent.
Jane
Jane had been with her husband for eight years; they had just bought a house together. Then, one day in late 2016, he started bringing up Q and the deep-state conspiracy. Jane says she’s not positive where it all stemmed from, but it may have come from his friendship with a coworker. From the moment Q was introduced, the relationship changed drastically and her husband became unrecognizable.
I feel like a ground-zero patient. My husband must have caught on to QAnon very early. It started with an argument one night that came out of nowhere. I was sitting in our kitchen smoking before bed. Everything up until the argument that night was very quiet. But then he came in full throttle. He came at me freaking, berating me, attacking me about this thing I’ve never heard of, this QAnon stuff.
After that first argument, which scared the hell out of me, my life got flipped upside down.
It all became about Q from then on.
Sometimes I wasn't even allowed to go to bed because I had to watch one more Q video. The minute I came in the door from work he was sitting there with a video. He would say, 'You have to have the veil lifted from your eyes, Jane, you need to know this.’ He quizzed me because he wanted to make sure that I actually watched and paid attention.
I can’t pinpoint where exactly his obsession started but all of a sudden it seemed he would be watching a YouTube video and become either enraged or go into complete hysterics.
All of these Q breadcrumbs and things he was reading, these posts, YouTube videos, they took control of his entire day. He got in trouble with his job at the fire department. He was posting terrible things and tirades on Facebook.
Our home became a very hostile environment. I was a robot to him; I was ‘brainwashed.’ There were days that I was going to work and he would call and scream at me to try to make me come home because I was going to go out and get gang-raped or martial law was going to break out. At home, he would follow me around with a phone trying to get me to watch these YouTube videos so I could 'see.’ I was scared to death because his whole personality changed.
During one of his tirades I told him I was going to go take a shower. (Showers are the one place I thought he'd leave me alone.) This time he followed me. I tried to close the bathroom door but he got his arm in, holding his phone in my face while playing these videos. That was the first time ever that I had my cell phone in my hand with 911 ready to go, ready to call the police on my husband.
One day my husband went upstairs to take a nap and I decided to go out and grab dinner. I threw my phone in my handbag and didn't pay any attention to it as I was only going to be gone for 10 minutes. When I got back into the car, I noticed that I had a million missed calls and texts from my husband.
When I answered he was enraged and yelling, ‘Where the fuck are you!? Where the fuck did you go!? You get the fuck back to this house now!’
I rushed home thinking something terrible must have happened.
When I walked through the door my husband was a mix of hysterics and anger, and pacing the house with a shotgun strapped to him. The gun wasn’t there to intimidate me. It was for protection. He thought martial law was going to break out at any moment. He told me the terrible things the marauders would do to a girl like me once they got me, that I would be held captive and raped repeatedly.
I was scared to death.
I had no idea who the hell my husband was anymore because there was a monster in his place. He completely isolated himself. He went to work and didn't speak to anyone. He did his job and went to his room. People were afraid of him.
People at work worried about my safety. I took a loan from my job and I moved out last summer. We had been together for eight years and it took this QAnon stuff six months to ruin that.
Before this, my husband was my Prince Charming, a super cool guy. There's a reason I married that man. He's fun and outgoing and spontaneous, a little bit of a grump here and there, but who isn't? He had a lot of pride for serving his country and was very excited to come back west, once his service was over.
I don't know if I'm angry. I'm just so confused. There is a part of me saying: ‘Are you fucking kidding me, dude? YouTube videos? Breadcrumbs? This could be anybody sitting in anybody's basement.'
To this day, I feel I still don't know what to do. I survived this Q thing somehow and was able to get out. I really fear for the people in the world if this is what's happening to men and women and families out there.
Joan
Joan met her boyfriend on Match.com. It turned out they lived close to each other, were both divorced, and had grown children. They had an amazing first date and, even though they were on opposite sides of the political spectrum, they soon moved in together. They called their relationship their “perfect imperfect life” and would often discuss the next 30 years they were going to spend together.
About a year into the relationship I started hearing and learning about QAnon, which quickly became a big, deep, dark rabbit hole for him. He’s a very smart man—he had two college degrees, owns a business, was a great dad.
I knew Spygate [the idea Obama was spying on the Trump campaign] was really intriguing to him. He liked to try to connect the dots between all these players. But then it became Pizzagate [a secret pedophile conspiracy] and the pedophilia thing and the tribunals and who was going to be hung for treason.
God knows he tried to red pill me. I saw all the literature; I saw more YouTube videos on the 'Great Awakening' to know that it was clearly a hoax. It was started by a handful of gamers and continues now to this day even though the original founders aren't even involved in it anymore. I was not going to buy into that. And I was told, 'I can't save you because you're not "woke."'
Of the three years that we were together, almost two were fraught with conversation about Q. I came home from work one day to find a huge poster, about 4 feet by 4 feet, tacked up on the wall detailing the connections of Spygate. I had to look at it every single day. On the refrigerator, he had a Bingo-style card that he had made with all of the Democratic enemies with nooses by the ones he thought were going to be executed.
It was a very slow transition process from this happy-go-lucky, extremely funny man. He was a distinctly different man at the end.
I decided the only thing I could do was work with people to help expose and shine a light on QAnon and what it really is all about—who started it and who's running it today. And so I became involved with a small group of active Q debunkers. In a way, I think that made him dig his heels deeper into that world.
We were in this relationship for the long haul, joining families and finances and furnishing things together. So it came as a total surprise to me one day when he told me we were done. He said my politics made him dislike me, and that me working to debunk Qanon hurt him hugely and made him very angry.
We truly used to say all the time that we meant more to each other than politics. At some point in time, that became not true anymore.
There are a lot of people dealing with loved ones into Q. They all say the same thing—that you get to a point where you can no longer reason with them. One of the first things I tell people who reach out is you cannot make fun of them. You can't criticize their beliefs. You can keep trying to show them over and over again how their beliefs are misguided, that there are all these Q predictions where the dates have come and gone and nothing has happened. You can show them these things. But the minute you try to make a judgment call or say, 'See, look at how stupid it is. You're an idiot,' you know you'll lose these people forever.
It's been, without a doubt, the most devastating experience of my life. I love the man with all my heart. I’d give anything to have him say, ‘I'm done with Q. Come back. Let's see if we can make this work again.’ But I'm not sure that's ever going to happen.
I am fascinated and riveted by the Humboldt Park alligator! His name is Chance the Snapper btw
The search for the Humboldt Park Lagoon alligator entered its third day Thursday, with more traps in place to catch the reptile and numerous sightings, as the curious gathered at the park, unsuccessfully trying to catch a glimpse of it.
Russians in the Siberian town of Novosibirsk are being asked to please stop staging Instagram shoots near a power plant’s toxic waste lake.
An artificial pond nicknamed the “Novosibirsk Maldives” for its bright blue water has become a picturesque backdrop for photographers who seemingly don’t care that its hue stems from an ashy brew of calcium salts and metal oxides.
Tens of thousands of people have visited the site according to a Russian “blogger” interviewed by the Siberian Times on Tuesday.
Instagram posts tagged with the location reveal photos of newlyweds and small babies, and bikini-clad women posing on its dirty shores. In another photo, someone is floating in the water on a unicorn inflatable while wearing a balaclava. “The next morning, my legs turned slightly red and itched for two days,” they wrote.
Two paddle-boarders who went out on the lake commented that a recent “chemical analysis” showed that it is “not so dangerous.”
An Instagram account called “Novosibirsk Maldives” has since popped up and is asking people to submit their own photos.
But the cerulean waters are no oasis. The lake’s owner, Siberian Generating Company, called it an “ash dump” in a post on Russian social media platform VK.
“Because of this,” it said, “we very kindly request that you refrain from taking selfies down in the ash dump!”
The company claims the pond is highly alkaline with a pH higher than 8—roughly the level of sea water. It also said the water is neither radioactive or poisonous, but warned that it may cause skin irritation. The company attributes its blue color to a particular combination of calcium salts and metal oxides—byproducts of ash from burning coal at a local thermal power station—that dissolve in the two- to six-feet-deep reservoir after being fed through a series of pipes. It said that another ash pond which receives runoff from burning a different type of coal “is usually colored normally.”
“Swimming in the ash dump is NOT ALLOWED,” the company’s VK post said. “Under the water is sludgy! Getting out from the water yourself is practically impossible.”
Built in the 1970s, the power station provides energy to Novosibirsk, Russia’s third-most populous city, and is the largest of its kind in Siberia, reported the Guardian on Wednesday
As one VK commenter wrote, there are signs posted around the lake that prohibit people from trespassing. The power plant has even attempted to close roads leading into the site, noted the Guardian, though it’s unclear whether this has stymied visitors.
So long as dangerous places exist, some internet rule dictates that people will go there, take photos, and post said photos to social media. Most recently, Instagram users were berated for posing at Chernobyl in the abandoned Ukrainian town of Pripyat.
Personally, I just don’t think a full-body rash is worth it.
Dane Maximov contributed translations for this story.
So he's a racist, who killed a teenager because he was black. It's a hate crime.
Police say a man accused of fatally stabbing a 17-year-old in the throat at an Arizona convenience store told them he felt threatened because the teen had been listening to rap music.
KFC's Cheetos Sandwich takes a boneless Extra Crispy filet, coats it with special Cheetos sauce, and serves it with a layer of Crunchy Cheetos and mayo on a plain bun.
The sandwich alone was $4.49 but I got it as part of the Cheetos Lovers Box, which cost me $9.79 and also included mac & cheese, potato wedges, Cheetos Popcorn Nuggets (regular Popcorn Nuggets smothered in Cheetos sauce), and a fountain drink (which I filled with new Mtn Dew Sweet Lightning).
The special Cheetos sauce really tasted like Cheetos and thoroughly imparted that quality to the chicken filet to the extent that I mostly tasted just Cheetos but with various textures.
Chicken was pretty tender and juicy on this occasion. It was nice and thick too. The breading was good for a light and flaky crispiness that held together despite being smothered in sauce. It was complemented by a heartier though slightly stale crunch from the Crunchy Cheetos. The flavor of chicken itself managed to struggle through the all-encompassing taste of Cheetos but the seasoning of the chicken was covered up entirely.
The mayo added a richness but not the expected flavor of mayo. Instead, the richness went to the general Cheeto-ness of the sandwich.
The bun was a little bit too dense but otherwise blunted some of the saltiness from the fried chicken, Crunchy Cheetos, and sauce.
As far as Cheetos Popcorn Nuggets (which would have cost me $3.29 if I ordered them a la carte) go, they're not as meaty as the filet with a higher breading-to-chicken ratio. The breading is thicker and denser than the filet but still good for some crunch. Maybe there was less sauce on it but the flavor of the nuggets didn't totally fade against the Cheetos sauce.
Insofar as making a Cheetos Sandwich that captures the essence of Cheetos, it's mission accomplished here but I'd rather just get a bag of Cheetos for my fix. If you want to try a fried chicken sandwich that tastes like Cheetos from beginning to end, this is it. It's somewhat telling that they decided to call it the "Cheetos Sandwich" rather than the "Cheetos Chicken Sandwich." The Cheetos Popcorn Nuggets are the way to go if you prefer a more measured amount of Cheetos flavor.
Finally, if you're curious about Mtn Dew Sweet Lightning, it basically tastes like citrusy Mountain Dew mixed with a strong dose of peach flavor and a light end note of honey.
Though it’ll be a while before we can get our paws on a feature-length Eartha Kitt biopic, Drunk History is bringing the inimitable multi-hyphenate to the small screen tonight. The season-six episode, “Fame,” will center on a specific moment in Kitt’s lifelong activism—the time the erstwhile Catwoman was invited to…
Commercials hate you. They want to fool you. They know you don’t want them, that they are a distraction, so they’ve taken to shrouding themselves in prestige finery, their logos surfacing like a middle finger after two minutes of emotional manipulation. Insurance and car companies have been doing it for years, but all…
by Randall Colburn on News, shared by Randall Colburn to The A.V. Club
You remember Highlights. They had them at the dentist’s office. There was a comic strip featuring Goofus and Gallant, two kids who helped illustrate the difference between wrong and right. They taught easy-to-understand lessons about why it’s bad to steal, lie, or forcibly separate migrant children from their families…
I was lucky enough to see this live (With David and Kelly!!) and it was absolutely a revelation. She absolutely nailed the follow-up to Nannette.
“Had I known trauma would be so wildly popular,” says Hannah Gadsby to a roll of educated laughter at Boston’s Shubert Theater on June 19, “I might have budgeted my trauma better.” She knows why we’re here; we know why we’re here. We’re here because of Nanette, the breakout 2018 Netflix special in which Gadsby used her own experience of sexual violence to (in her words) “turn the laugh tap off.” To engineer a confrontation with pain and knowledge that, almost as a side effect, exploded the mechanism of stand-up comedy itself. Tension and release, tension and release—that’s how it works. Inculcate unease, build it, let it swell, then perforate it with a punch line and listen for the yuks.
But Gadsby wouldn’t release us from the tension; she told her story and then insisted that we remain with it, unlaughing. No gags at all, by the end of the night; no absolution. Only a consummate comedian, of course, could have pulled this off. The necessarily apocalyptic premise of Nanette was that it was Gadsby’s last show; having seen the sickness of the gig, she was quitting it. And you came away from Nanette wondering whether any stand-up—by anyone, anywhere—was still possible. In this post-Nanette light, the joke itself, the sturdy old circuit of setup and punch line, anxiety and discharge, suddenly seemed a bit suspect. A bit squalid. Jabbing, ejaculatory, a thing for—yup—men.
So: Now what? Gadsby didn’t quit, obviously. Here she is, onstage, in a blue Calvin Klein suit (“Fuck dieting. Get a tailor!”), a gay woman, with autism, from the island of Tasmania. And here am I, one of 3.7 straight white men in the room, neuro-bloody-typical as far as I know, flicking my male gaze this way and that, with my notepad open and my nib flexed in a cold fury of nitpickery. “To the men in the room, I speak to you now,” she said in Nanette, “particularly the white men, especially the straight white men. Pull your fucking socks up!”
Douglas is the name of the new show, and it’s just as much of a high-wire act, in its way, as Nanette. She named it after her dog, so we get going with some dog-talk. “We had a lot of dogs growing up … because we lived on a busy road.” Bam! A joke! Then we’re talking about L.A., where Gadsby now lives—entertainment L.A., industry L.A., the L.A. of groomers and stylists. “A woman comes in with a huge rack … of clothes.” Bam! Another joke! This one, however, Gadsby instantly deconstructs: “It’s a single entendre!” She’s very good at jokes. She’s very good at being rude. Somewhere inside her, in fact, is a swaggeringly profane old-school Australian barroom bloke; she lets him out periodically and to great effect.
Dogs, L.A., life post-Nanette, the different meanings of the word “fanny”… loads of laughs. On golf: “What a waste of space and time. Men who play golf and have families are cunts.” Gadsby is having a conspicuously great time. Her fantastic short-back-and-sides, long-on-top haircut, which she mashes and plumes with her hand as she proceeds, is one of her physical props. Her glasses are another, pushed back up the bridge of her nose as a kind of nerd punctuation, a visual stammer. Her eyes, behind their big frames, pop with alarm or zero in.
Douglas moves easily, almost meanderingly—this, at least, is the sensation. But as Gadsby develops her digressions, and bores laserlike along her tangents, a large and extraordinarily intricate design begins to reveal itself. Throwaway lines recur, become motifs. Other lines are instant proverbs. “Closed minds can’t be opened from the outside.” Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. She subjects that old saw to her interstellar scrutiny. The eye? Just one eye? Whose is it? And abruptly she’s become a hunched Cyclopean man, peering at the world, turning his head, taking monocular snapshots and snarling, “Beauty! … Beauty!” The taxonomy of beauty, she tells us, “is a Trojan horse for ugly ideas.”
Gadsby doesn’t like small talk. She likes rules, especially ones she’s made up herself. A doctor recommends the pill. She doesn’t like the pill. “The pill gives me suicidal ideation.” (An eager stillness in the audience: We sniff more trauma. “There it is,” she says. “You thought I forgot why you came here.”) She argues with the doctor; he accuses her of being “hormonal.” “A woman is ‘hormonal’ every time she does something a man fails to predict … As if men have emotional neutrality while women are this clusterfuck of internalized chaos.”
Douglas is about the artificiality of categories, particularly the categories invented by men for women, and about fitting in, and not fitting in, and finding out who you are. Did I just write that sentence? Apparently I did. These are some rhetorically flaccid zones; total humorlessness beckons; you have to be Hannah Gadsby to make it through with your jokes intact. So there’s her craft, her expertise—but there’s also the existential edge she gives to it all, the privileged sense of sharing a reality, if only temporarily, with this juttingly strange and world-renewing person.
“The expectations that we place on humans are inhumane.” She talks about her autism diagnosis: “Autism is something that happens around other people. We’re fine on our own. You need to understand that. We’re fuckin’ fine on our own.” I begin to think about another defiant and transcendent misfit, another rumpled, on-the-spectrum, linguistically supercharged Australian: the poet Les Murray, who died this past April. “The coin took years to drop,” wrote Murray of his own diagnosis of Asperger’s, in a poem called “The Tune on Your Mind.” “Lectures instead of chat. The want / of people skills. The need for Rules. / Never towing a line from the Ship of Fools.” Good nautical pun there: toeing the line / towing the line. Nonconformist wordplay, with feeling. That’s Douglas.
One must adapt when something goes wrong. For director Max Siedentopf, that meant starring in his own music video. Siedentopf was hired to direct the video for Sigrid’s “Mine Right Now,” but, as the Norwegian singer clarifies in a message before the music starts, delayed flights forced her to miss the shoot. In lieu…
You have to do it better if you're going to do this. See: Oobah Butler.
If you’re going to pose as a celebrity, you could do worse than George Clooney, a reportedly nice man with a nice face and an incredible wife. If you’re going to pose as a celebrity to scam people into buying fake clothes from your fake clothing line, though, it is possible you will get into some trouble. This is…
"One Austin man has gone viral on social media after making an Instagram page as a 'lifestyle influencer'–even though he's 'just a construction guy,'" Austin's KVUE News reported on Wednesday. Omar Madani, a construction worker better known as @justaconstructionguy, decided to become an influencer after learning about them from his daughter, said KVUE's initial report. Similar writeupscame fromother sites.
As it turns out, that wasn't the full story: Soon after the account went viral, BuzzFeed News reported that it was actually a marketing campaign for Austin's Cuvée Coffee, created by Cuvée owner Mike McKim in collaboration with Bandolier Media in order to find a "different type of influencer: a hard-worker, blue-collar guy." (KVUE was told the same and its report has been updated to reflect the new information, but the original version can be seen on the Internet Archive.)
According to BuzzFeed News, a tweet from the user @barbzlovescarbs shot the account to virality after it was picked up by the meme Instagram @middleclassfancy. Although the @barbzlovescarbs account has been set to private, a screenshot posted to Imgur shows that the tweet read in part, "My dad asked me what an influencer was, and after I explained he said 'Pssh, I could do that.' Well… he did." The Instagram account made the rounds on Reddit and other meme pages, and it has now picked up over 516,000 followers.
McKim told BuzzFeed News that after he and the Bandolier team decided on a "construction guy" influencer, they reached out to Omar, who reportedly said, "What's social media? Instagram? Huh?" and added that he "[didn't] know how to do it." As McKim told BuzzFeed News, Omar was paid for the photo shoots and nothing else, and said that he isn't involved with running the account since all posting, marketing, and idea generation was put together by Bandolier.
As a representative for Cuvée shared with MUNCHIES, McKim also explained the situation in a blog post on Cuvée's website, writing that the brand wanted to better represent its customers. "Omar is a real person and yes, that is his real name. Yes, he is a general contractor who has worked in many areas of construction," the post reads. "Those are his tools, his van, his yellow hard hat (that doesn’t fit right because the leather head straps are worn out) and he really does like cigars, whisky and coffee."
Although McKim wouldn't tell BuzzFeed News Omar's last name, it was included in KVUE's original article, which was published a day before. A Facebook account for an Omar Madani in Austin, Texas seems to corroborate the brand's story. The account is fairly active and seems to be run by a real person, with public posts dating back to 2011, including a photo in construction gear from a month ago with a comment that mentions the Cuvée photoshoot. An account seemingly run by Madani's wife has also been active since at least 2010, and recently made public posts about the news coverage of Omar's Instagram.
But despite McKim's openness with BuzzFeed News, questions about the marketing campaign remain. Madani's amount of public activity on Facebook, for example, suggests a decent familiarity with social media. And while McKim reportedly also told BuzzFeed News that he and the Bandolier team "intended to have 'fun' creating 'Omar,'" that statement is odd given that Omar is apparently a real person. MUNCHIES has also reached out to Madani and Bandolier for clarification, but we have not yet received a response.
Looking at it now, the account should have always seemed kind of suspect: Older folks might like coffee, but they're not so great at latte art.
A lot of work went into this and it is very entertaining
If you thought you could ever work as Beyoncé's assistant, one Twitter thread proved you're, well, not irreplaceable.
On Saturday, Twitter user @CORNYASSBITCH created a thread that blew up the Twitter contingent of the BeyHive. The thread was a Choose Your Own Adventure-style game in which you, player one, are assistant to the one true queen, Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter, and your aim is to see how many levels you can survive before being removed from her payroll and forced to work for someone like Audrina Patridge or Heidi Montag (or, really, anyone that has ever appeared on The Hills). And to be fair, you'd deserve it for failing Beyoncé by bringing her eggs and bacon instead of yogurt, strawberries, and granola the morning of a red carpet appearance. Imbecile!
Each level increases in difficulty, with players having to make choices that would either grant them an approving head nod from Bey and passage to the next round, or a brutal, soul-shattering vocal assault delivered with pitch-perfect range, followed by a letter of termination from her team of lawyers. As it goes, the truer the Beyoncé stan you are, the likelihood of advancing to the next level is greater. Even so, noted Bey super stan Chrissy Teigen only made it three rounds, while her assistant got clapped from the job in round one.Questlove got a "to be continued" status after failing once.
Landon Rivera, a 19-year old student and freelance graphic designer based in Los Angeles, is the genius behind the Twitter game. He told VICE via Twitter DM that he made the game for his followers that are Beyoncé stans "but then it got really popular." Rivera explained that the questions in the game were based on information he knew about the Queen mostly just from having been a fan. For example, one question asks if, since Beyoncé is running late, she should get ready in the car instead of in her hotel room. Anyone who chose the car (knowing Beyoncé hates to be late) would get fired on the spot because it leads to Beyoncé violently barfing in the backseat. Why? "In an interview, I think it was on the Tyra show, she says she gets carsick and Tyra was telling her to look up at the ceiling," said Rivera.
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The Beyoncé assistant Twitter game is not only better than Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (who would absolutely get fired from Beyoncé's employ in two rounds max if it were a sentient being and not a disappointing streaming TV episode), but it is also a harsh, yet fair, reminder of the one universal truth that binds us all: None of us are good enough to work for Beyoncé.
While Rivera says there were a few who beat the game on their first try, most failed miserably. Even he wouldn't make the cut. "I'd probably end up fired if I was her assistant," he said. "I'd definitely try to ask her all kind of questions, like how long did it take to get Lemonade ready, did she have [the] Everything Is Love album planned, why didn’t she release the Formation world tour dvd?" Definitely all fireable offenses.
Mrs. Carter requires excellence in every facet of your being in order to be anywhere near her inner circle (unless your name is Jay-Z; in that case, you get a ton of leeway). You may know she loves swimming in the ocean after watching her HBO special Life Is But A Dream, in which she talks about her deep connection to the sea, but if you think advising her to swim before getting her hair and makeup doneisn't going to get your ass unemployed, then you're dead wrong. Truly foolish. An assistant to Beyoncé must be five steps ahead at all times, must be able to predict the future, must be able to see every likely outcome and make swift, correct decisions at every turn. There is no room for error, because one mistake, like offering her wine before an interview or telling her to get ready in the car or feeding her a vegetarian meal when she is actually in a vegan period could lead to disaster. How. DARE. You. She is Sasha FIERCE, not Sasha Tame. You're not good enough. No one is. If this Twitter thread is the litmus test you needed before submitting your application, so be it.
Gov. J.B. Pritzker on Tuesday signed into law a bill that will legalize marijuana in Illinois next year, marking a momentous shift in how the state treats drug use.
The bill will allow the licensed growth, sales, possession and consumption of cannabis for adults 21 and older.
1) Drive them to an airport 2) Shovel their sidewalk
In some cities, the nicest thing you can do is shovel someone’s driveway. In some, it’s to lend them shade. In some, it’s to let them pass on the freeway, or top off their parking meter. In your city, what’s the best favor someone can do for someone else?
Scientists have discovered a new species of bristle worm that has a second set of peepers on its pooper.
Called Ampharete oculicirrata, the tiny creature has two pairs of eyes—one near its mouth and one near its anus—which helped scientists to distinguish it from its closest relatives.
The species is even named after its unique adaptation: “Oculicirrata” is a combination of the Latin words “oculi,” meaning “eyes,” and “cirri,” which is the type of appendage that lines the worm’s bum.
The animal, which is about half a centimeter in length, was found in the seabed of the West Shetland Shelf, a marine protected area off the coast of northern Scotland. A team of scientists onboard the research vessel MRV Scotia collected over 80 of these bottom feeders at depth ranges between 100 to 140 meters in late 2017.
The expedition included researchers from governmental institutions such as Marine Scotland Science and the UK Joint Nature Conservation Committee, as well as the private firm Thomson Environmental Consultants.
After carefully examining the specimens over the course of a year, researchers led by Julio Parapar, a marine biologist at the University of La Coruña, officially announced the identification of the new species in the June issue of The European Journal of Taxonomy.
Bristle worms are abundant in Earth’s oceans; over 10,000 different species have been catalogued by scientists. The worms can seemingly adapt to every imaginable habitat, from hot hydrothermal vents to the cold deep waters of the open ocean. A fraction of them have colonized freshwater ecosystems as well.
The spectacular diversity of the group also extends to its eye configurations. Most bristle worms have a pair of eyes on their heads, but some are blind. It’s not unusual for the worms to have two sets of eyes, and A. oculicirrata is not the only species known to boast a pair on its butt (though this feature is unusual when compared to its closest known relatives).
“This new species is an exciting and interesting addition to the work we do in Marine Protected Areas,” said Jessica Taylor, a marine advisor at the Joint Nature Conservation Committee, in a statement.
“The fact that it was found in relatively shallow depths, relatively close to the Scottish coastline, shows just how much more there is to understand about the creatures that live in our waters.”
There’s nothing quite like a high-minded literary smackdown, and that’s exactly what ExeuntMagazine editor Alice Saville offers in her review of David Mamet’s ripped-from-the-Harvey- Weinstein-headlines play Bitter Wheat.
Midsommar, a disturbing, ambitious, and unsettlingly colorful new horror movie from the writer-director of Hereditary, unfolds within a remote village in northern Sweden, a land where the sun never completely sets. The place doesn’t look especially threatening, in its bucolic summer-camp splendor, and neither do its…
The luxurious two-story residence includes its own rooftop hot tub and pool
A recently completed two-story penthouse on Chicago’s Near North Side is poised to become the city’s most expensive rental property when it lists for an eye-watering $45,000 per month.
Perched atop the 32-story phase one tower of the Old Town Park project at 1140 N. Wells Street, the three-bedroom, four-and-a-half-bath unit comes fully furnished by Kreel Creative Interiors. The residence offers 8,000 square feet of indoor and outdoor living space, high-end finishes, a dramatic floating staircase, and a private rooftop pool deck.
“There is not another apartment on the market in Chicago, nor probably in the Midwest, that offers this combination of space, design, amenities, and sheer beauty,” said @properties agent Emily Santos in a statement. Though the listing for the penthouse hasn’t gone live just yet, its developer—Vancouver-based Onni Group—says the unit will be move-in ready next month.
For all its bells and whistles and sweeping skyline views, $45,000 is still a ton of money to spend on rent. According to Crain’s, the figure is roughly equivalent to monthly mortgage payments on an $8 million home. “Somebody [renting a place] like this probably already has the $8 million house or two,” Santos told the publication.
For the rest of us, we can drool over the pretty photos.
Residents can use a private elevator of this cantilevered stone and glass staircase to access the upper level.A formal living room features a stone-clad fireplace and sliding balcony doors.The sleek custom kitchen includes a large island, integrated appliances, and quartzite waterfall countertops.There’s oak flooring, a spacious walk-in closet, and a separate dressing room in the master bedroom.The master ensuite is clad in floor-to-ceiling travertine and includes a floating vanity with double sinks, marble countertops, and a freestanding tub.Skyline views from one of the penthouse’s multiple outdoor spaces.The rooftop includes a private pool deck. Tenants also have access to the building’s shared eighth-floor amenity level.
Nobody’s sense of patience is in great shape by the time they’ve arrived at YouTube to troubleshoot a home appliance. After trying to figure it out on their own, maybe digging around for a manual tucked away in some cobwebbed drawer, the decision to look up a tips video already comes loaded with a good amount of…
I used to think my favorite Onion character was Don Turnbee but it turns out its "Dad"
It’s not often that you’ll see Dad genuinely, full-blown excited about something, and that honestly might be for the best, because right now he’s stoked as all hell and it is a pathetic sight to behold: Dad is excited out of his fucking mind after asking a cab driver in Aruba to take us where the real locals eat and…
I have direct deposit but I ALWAYS look at my stub. It's how I caught my company trying to charge me for a full month of health insurance premiums for a plan I'd canceled over 2 months prior. Because my pay period included 1 day where I was technically covered, they charged me for the full month, despite not actually covering me for 30 out of the 31 days of the month. I had to nearly go to our Chief HR officer to get it resolved but I did, and they refunded me nearly $250 (yes, our premiums are fucking insane.)
In this convenient era of direct deposit, do you look at your pay stub each time payday rolls around? Are you confident that the hours you worked are what you’re actually getting paid for?
EVERYWHERE—Claiming that they just couldn’t stand this bullshit anymore, Americans across the country confirmed Thursday that someone, anyone needs to please, just make it stop. “Please, please, please, we’re begging you here, just put an end to it immediately,” said sources, noting that it had all gone way, way too…
MONTES APENNINUS, THE MOON—Gazing upon the stark beauty of the land, retired astronaut Buzz Aldrin announced “one day, this will all be yours” to his great-grandson Nathaniel Friday while taking him on a brief tour around the Moon. “From the Tycho Crater to the Oceanus Procellarum, this land is your birthright as an…
‘Tis the season to take a dip in cool water or lay out with a drink in hand if only for the sole purpose of putting your super cute swimsuit on display. Yes, we’re talking about pool season, which for many, is one of the most anticipated activities during this sweltering time of year. One place steel-nerved people will be clamoring to go for a swim in the future is this mind-boggling 360-degree pool infinity pool that’s set to be constructed on top of a London skyscraper.
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KFC's Cheetos Sandwich takes a boneless Extra Crispy filet, coats it with special Cheetos sauce, and serves it with a layer of Crunchy Cheetos and mayo on a plain bun.
The special Cheetos sauce really tasted like Cheetos and thoroughly imparted that quality to the chicken filet to the extent that I mostly tasted just Cheetos but with various textures.
Chicken was pretty tender and juicy on this occasion. It was nice and thick too. The breading was good for a light and flaky crispiness that held together despite being smothered in sauce. It was complemented by a heartier though slightly stale crunch from the Crunchy Cheetos. The flavor of chicken itself managed to struggle through the all-encompassing taste of Cheetos but the seasoning of the chicken was covered up entirely.
The mayo added a richness but not the expected flavor of mayo. Instead, the richness went to the general Cheeto-ness of the sandwich.
As far as Cheetos Popcorn Nuggets (which would have cost me $3.29 if I ordered them a la carte) go, they're not as meaty as the filet with a higher breading-to-chicken ratio. The breading is thicker and denser than the filet but still good for some crunch. Maybe there was less sauce on it but the flavor of the nuggets didn't totally fade against the Cheetos sauce.
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‘Tis the season to take a dip in cool water or lay out with a drink in hand if only for the sole purpose of putting your super cute swimsuit on display. Yes, we’re talking about pool season, which for many, is one of the most anticipated activities during this sweltering time of year. One place steel-nerved people will be clamoring to go for a swim in the future is this mind-boggling 360-degree pool infinity pool that’s set to be constructed on top of a London skyscraper.
READ MORE...