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I just love satire.

List of satire news sites

I’ve grown weary of ridiculous satire pieces being shared as fact. I love satiric writing, I do, but sites like the Daily Currant and The Onion take things too far sometimes. At the very least, they should have a disclaimer at the bottom of the fictional follies they publish bold enough for those who do not possess the satirical savvy required to prevent them from believing everything they read without question.

If you come upon an article from one of these delightfully distasteful sites, PLEASE do not forward as fact or get your panties in a bunch about it.

Satire – noun

1. the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc..

2. a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule.

A literary work in which human vice or folly is attacked through irony, derision, or wit.

Irony, sarcasm, or caustic wit used to attack or expose folly, vice, or stupidity.


List of satirical sites offering up doses of delusion for your reading pleasure . . . I realize this describes just about every news source these days, but these are the ones who admit it.

http://www.nationalreport.net
http://www.theonion.com
http://www.private-eye.co.uk
http://www.newsbiscuit.com
http://www.thespoof.com
http://www.sportspickle.com
http://www.unconfirmedsources.com
http://www.crystalair.com
http://www.enduringvision.com
http://www.derfmagazine.com
http://www.newsmutiny.com
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk
http://www.duffelblog.com
http://www.newstoad.net
http://www.dailycurrant.com
http://www.rockcitytimes.com
http://www.lightlybraisedturnip.com
http://www.christwire.com
http://www.cap-news.com
http://www.texascockroach.com
http://www.borowitzreport.com
http://www.thedailyrash.com

I am certain there are many, many more . . . Please feel free to add to the list in comments.

From the Daily Currant –

The Daily Currant is an English language online satirical newspaper that covers global politics, business, technology, entertainment, science, health and media. It is accessible from over 190 countries worldwide – now including South Sudan.

Our mission is to ridicule the timid ignorance which obstructs our progress, and promote intelligence – which presses forward.

Q. Are your news stories real?

A. No. Our stories are purely fictional. However they are meant to address real-world issues through satire and often refer and link to real events happening in the world

Not real folks, NOT REAL!

Crystal R. Cook

Why do bad things happen to good people?

You know you are too tired when a fly lands in your coffee and the thought crosses your mind to just scoop it out instead of making more. Ugh.

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I did what I had to do.

 

imageThe things we do for our families . . . It’s been 8 years and I am still recovering.

I crossed the line this time. I stepped out of the light and into the dark and became one of them. You have to know I didn’t seek this out, it just sort of happened. It’s only temporary and it most certainly does not change my opinion of them. Besides, I’m not exactly doing what they do.

I suppose this makes me a sort of hypocrite. Well, so be it. It pays ten dollars an hour and Christmas will be here soon enough. Sometimes you just have to do things you never thought you would do to provide for your family. I realize I am justifying right now, but it is justified justification. Shit’s expensive and there are four of them expecting something under the tree.

I should tell you what it is I’m doing so your mind doesn’t completely wander away with thoughts of all things illicit and odd. I can’t believe I’m going to admit to this . . . Okay, here it goes.

Hello. My name is Crystal and I am a telemarketer, of sorts. I’m not like the others. I can stop anytime I want. I can.

I never intended for this to happen. I saw an innocent ad that shouted out to me, ‘Campaign phone staff needed immediately – Compensation $10.00 hourly.’ A strange feeling came over me and I was compelled to pick up the phone and dial the number.

Now anyone who knows me, knows picking up the phone to call someone is totally out of character for me. In the past two days I’ve made more phone calls than I have in the past thirty-six years, and that’s saying something seeing as how I’m only almost twenty-nine-ish-something.

For four hours a day I dial, talk and hang up. Dial, talk and hang up. “Hi, my name is Crystal and I’m volunteering today for blah, blah, blah and we’re calling voters . . . yada, yada, yadda. So can we count on your YES vote on Proposition OH I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M DOING THIS!”

My ‘target’ list, I must say I find it peculiar they call the innocent people on the other end of the line targets. Anyway, my target list is comprised of every registered voter over the age of sixty who live peacefully within the boundaries drawn by the county lines. I am given a gigantic stack of pages with their names, numbers and ages printed neatly in teeny little letters to ensure my eyes as well as my neck and my arms ache – Hey, you’d be surprised how tiring it can be making call after call after call after call after . . . Sorry.

I have mixed emotions throughout the day. I feel bad calling people whom I know I am disturbing and yet I actually do believe the issue we are seeking support for is important. I can’t say a day in the life of . . . of . . . a phone solici – no, a Communications Specialist, isn’t sheer tedium and boredom, but I can say there are brief interludes throughout the day that keep you from throwing the phone against the wall and running far, far away.

I’ve spoken to sweet old ladies, and not so sweet old ladies. I’ve conversed with adorably rambunctious old men and some not so adorable grumpy old men. I know the medical history of approximately twenty percent of the senior citizens in my community and I now know it is especially hard to get to the phone when you are eighty years old and have bunions.

Only three more days.

Crystal R. Cook

This stinks.

imageI want to thank, and by thank I mean throttle, the geniuses behind the science that says second-hand flatulence is good for our health.

The men, it had to be men, behind this insidious study of smell should be flogged. I have no information regarding the validity of these claims or how accurate the reporting of them was, but the damage has been done.

When they invent charcoal bed sheets I’ll be first in line. I need softly spun cotton with odor absorbent fibers woven into a smooth, 600 thread count layer of protection so I can sleep without fear of awaking in the night to a fog of funk.

Was this brilliant breakthrough really something we needed to know? Will it be of benefit to mankind? Well, I suppose it already is, but what about womankind?

I am a fragile flower with a sensitive sniffer for goodness sake. I am the lone female in a house with four men, this does not bode well for me, it doesn’t smell all that great either.

At this rate, my heart will remain strong and I will be disease free for-fricking-ever. My mental well-being however, was already in question before this news . . . broke

Thank you science folk, thank you very, effing, much.

Syllables change things.

The way you speak is important. How you say something matters. For instance:

Son: Hey Mommy, I was was watching this whore episode of that show and . . .

Me: (interrupting) What were you watching?!

— If you know my son, you know he has a moral compass bigger than than the Washington Monument, he detests anything indecent —

Son: I was watching this whore episode on . . .

Me: (again interrupting) Whore?

Son: Yeah. Whore. You know, it was supposed to be scary.

Me: Ahh, horror.

Son: That’s what I said.

Me: No. No, you didn’t. Horror has TWO syllables my son. TWO.

Son: (turning a shade of pink) Gimme a break.

Enunciate my friends . . . enunciate.

**A little background regarding my name – My children are adults, well, the youngest is 17, but close enough. My kids call me Mommy. All four of them. My oldest boys, autistic and awesome, have never wanted to call me anything else and their sister and brother hung on right along with them. So, just in case you ever wondered . . .

Why?

 

Shoebox Memory on a Post-It

So my son licked a bar of soap. I know, kids do weird things, it’s to be expected I suppose. He immediately began rubbing his tongue on his shirt and proceeded to lap up water from the faucet like you would from a garden hose.

His younger brother, who by the way has never licked soap, asked him why on earth he would ever want to do such a strange thing.

His reply, which he seemed to think should be sufficient to leave any lingering curiosities  quelled was this –

“I had questions, I needed answers.”

I see. Carry on. The boy needed answers.

Oh, did I mention he is 16? Yeah . . . There’s that.

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He is now 22 . . . Yesterday he placed his hand on the ceramic burner to see if it was hot. Again. I guarantee it will not be the last time he does so.

 

Dog Eats Boy

My kids, three of them at least, and their first puppy. I’d forgotten my daughter posted this priceless little treasure. I laugh harder every time I see it . . .

More or less a fact –

Sometimes my son goes on lengthy verbal journeys, generally dragging me along for the ride. We typically walk through his thoughts and ideas at a comfortable pace, enjoying ourselves as we take turns pointing out the scenery. Every now and then, a particular notion will lead us gradually uphill and away from our destination and I will have to convince him to turn back.

Things move much faster when they are rolling downhill.

Like a tumbleweed gaining momentum and gathering debris along the way, his thoughts can become tangled and a little less cohesive as he picks up speed. This afternoon I was invited upon one of his loquacious adventures and soon enough, we began gaining altitude, as I eased him back down to the realm of all things calm and quiet, he uttered a sentence which even made him stop and think –

” . . . but I guess could be considered as more or less a fact. Maybe.”

We decided to stop for a picnic.

 

 

Sir Wetsalot . . . A rainy day writing.

Since children’s stories seems to be my theme for the day, I thought I would share one written with children. My children. My kids are all talented and articulate weavers of words, I read to them while they still nestled in my womb. I’ve always encouraged them to read and write and create.

The following tale was written on a rainy, stay home day when my children were in elementary school. Four bored, runny-nosed house trolls need to be kept busy and entertained so we decided to write a story.

They had so many ideas, we settled on our theme and they ran with it, each adding their own adorable voices to what would become one of our favorite memories. What I thought was going to be a miserable day turned out to be a pretty great one.

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Sir Wetsalot and the Knights of the Changing Table

Sir Wetsalot and his knights had many grand adventures protecting the kingdom of Cry-a-lot. Their faithful service never went unoticed by the king or the good people they protected. Their deeds and heroics were recorded so future generations would be reminded of their courage and sacrifice. The tale you are about to embark upon is one of the most famous and remarkable stories ever told of the brave souls we proudly called, The Knights of the Changing table.

Our story begins on a stormy night in the kingdom of Cry-a-lot. The wind howled as the knights gathered at the changing table. The King himself had called them to this secret meeting to discuss his fears that somewhere, someone was plotting to steal his most precious belonging, the golden rattle, Exloud-in-ear. The symbol of peace and harmony for Cry-a-lot was in danger and he feared life as they knew it would come to an end if they did not take measures to stop whatever fiend plotted against them.

As they thought of what to do, they remembered the day the King pulled Exloud-in-ear from under a mountain of rubbish and stone. Many had tried before him but none of them had the heart of a true king. The moment the golden rattle was freed the kingdom cheered and proclaimed him ruler and king. Their villages prospered and the evils they had come to fear seemed to vanish.

They were not sure of the exact nature of this new threat, the Kinghad heard rumors of a plot to steal Exloud-in-ear but that was about it. He decided to send out his most trustworthy spies to gather information and find out who was behind the dastardly plot.

As the spies packed for what they thought could be a long journey they heard a noise outside, they listened carefully but did not hear anything so they continued packing. They had lollipops and plenty of bottles filled with juice, they had their blankies and teddies and of course their spy gear. As they packed the last items they heard the noise again. This time is was even louder.

They rushed to the door and peeked out into the dark night, they could barely make out something in the distance, it looked like it was coming closer. They reached into their bags and pulled out their bottles, they aimed and squeezed, covering the intruder with orange juice and apple juice. Wet and unhappy, it disappeared into the city.

They immediately ran to the King and told him all about it. They were sure it must have been whoever, or whatever it was that wanted to steal Exloud-in-ear from them. They made plans to set a trap and catch the thief, they got to work right away. They started to grow sleepy though and their eyes began to close. One by one, they all fell fast asleep.

When they awoke, Exloud-in-ear was gone! Everyone began to panic, it took the King a long time to calm his people. He called on Sir Wetsalot to help him. Now Sir Wetsalot was very smart and very brave. The only thing that ever slowed him down was a full diaper. He came up with a new plan and quickly put it into action.

A fake Exloud-in-ear was made and placed on a table in the middle of the kingdom, it’s gold paint twinkled in the sun. The King, Sir Wetsalot, the Knights, the spies and all the people hid and waited. They waited, and waited and waited. Just when the sun was going down they began to hear noises. They watched nervously as something approached.

The table began to shake and the fake rattle fell to the ground. No one dared move closer to see what was happening. They listened to the rattle sounds growing softer and softer until they where gone. Now it had the fake Exloud-in-ear and the real one! Everyone in Cry-a-lot was sad. The King began to cry, he would not speak at all. He just sat there in tears and sucked his thumb.

Sir Wetsalot could not stand to see his king like this and valiantly went after the rattle. It was pretty easy really, there was a trail of cookie crumbs for him to follow. As he bravely skipped along the path he heard the familiar sound of the golden rattle. He very quietly crept toward the sound. He could not believe what he saw.

There sat his little brother, slobbering all over Exloud-in-ear. He was so mad he started screaming . . . “Mommeeeee!” Sir Wetsalot smiled as his mother took the rattle from the baby and returned it once again. After a quick diaper change and a snack he was on his way back to Cry-a-lot.

Everyone cheered and gave him a heroes welcome when he returned! The King took his soggy thumb from his mouth and jumped for joy! Peace and harmony returned to the kingdom and everyone settled down for a nice nap. While they slept, Sir Wetsalot’s mommy added a safety gate to the entrance of Cry-a-lot and turned out the lights.

Crystal, Wilson, Matthew, Angela, & Michael Cook

One of the few . . .

This is one of the few child themed pieces I’ve written I actually considered a success. It brought smiles to the faces of my children, they giggled and squealed and wanted to hear it over and over again. They would squinch up their little eyes and try to dream of silly animals, they would fall asleep with a smile . . .

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Something very strange happened late last night,
I began to hear odd noises, so I turned on the light.
You won’t believe what I saw, you won’t believe what I heard,
I hardly believed it myself, it was simply too absurd!

There where mice in my slippers and hamsters in my bed.
Fluffy bunnies on my dresser and a kitten on my head!
There where roaring lions scratching at the door,
and I could see two crocodiles, but I’m certain there where more!

Birds where busy flying, some were singing too,
I could hear a barking dog and I think I heard a moo!
Turtles slowly traveled across my bedroom floor,
while slithering snakes slid quickly underneath the door!

There was a zebra in the corner who didn’t make a sound,
and a dozen little piggies where running all around!
A great big pretty parrot flew up above my head,
then some silly chipmunks started jumping on my bed!

The closet door was opened up, just a little bit,
it must have been too small for the hippopotamus to fit!
They all made so much noise it soon woke up my mom.
She ran into my room to see just what was wrong.

Her mouth fell right open and her eyes got very wide
when she opened up my door and saw the animals inside!
She called out for my father and my little brother came in too,
who jumped up and started shouting “Yay! We’ve got a zoo!”

An owl hooted softly and then an elephant appeared,
followed by some monkeys and an ape who had a beard!
The house was filled with animals, now what would we do?
Every single minute our zoo just grew and grew!

Mom was in the kitchen and so where all the goats,
Dad was in the closet getting bats out of our coats!
My little brother was in the bathroom filling up the sink
for a line of thirsty penguins waiting for a drink.

“Oh what will we do?” I heard my mother call.
“We really must act fast! There’s a giraffe out in the hall!”
It was completely up to me to rid us of this zoo,
I thought for just a moment, then I knew just what to do!

I politely asked the polar bear who was sleeping in my bed,
if he could find another place to rest his sleepy head.
I thought maybe if I fell asleep I could dream them all away.
The animals where fun, but I knew they couldn’t stay.

So I pulled up all my covers and shut my eyes real tight,
hoping that my dreams would make everything all right.
I slept for just a while and then thought I’d take a peek,
everything was calm and quiet, not a single peep.

The monkeys where all gone, and the elephant was too,
I guess it must have worked because there was no zoo.
No more birds where flying, and no more lions roaring.
The animals where gone and everything was boring.

But I knew how to fix it, I knew what to do!
I’d just go back to sleep and dream about our zoo.
So I pulled up all my covers and shut my eyes real tight,
and when they opened up, I saw such a funny sight!

There where hippos and rhinos, cows and kangaroos,
I couldn’t help shouting “Yay! We’ve got a zoo!”
It used to be hard to fall asleep most every night.
I would pull up all my covers and close my eyes real tight.

Then I’d toss and I’d turn and I’d never get my rest,
I’d think all sorts of things, I’d try my very best.
But now each and every night when I get into my bed,
I just close my eyes and dream of animals instead!

Crystal R.Cook 1994