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The pesky truth about huge wind farms is that they’re not very nice to birds. The massive turbines create vortexes that suck in birds and smash them with the ferocity of a Randy Johnson fastball. The problem with this is some of these birds are bald eagles, and America can’t have machines publicly puréeing national icons. For a while, the Obama administration tried to cover up the birds’ deaths, but after a few reporters got too nosy, they decided to change the laws and protect the wind farms. Now, the law is basically “Fuck ’em. Eagles have had a free pass long enough. Now that they’re landing on our Earth and trying to steal our phones, all bets are off.” And anyways, our great slave-owning Founding Fathers only chose the bald eagle as national bird because they enjoyed comparing themselves to the great Roman Republic—it’s appropriate for our icon to die as our republic falls.

Screenshot of Google’s Santa Tracker.

Years ago on Christmas Eve, my dad signed onto the internet to lie to me. He went to a website and then showed me a tiny red dot on a map of the world. He said the red dot represented Santa Claus’s whereabouts as he made his deliveries to good boys and girls around the world. This fake tracking system wasn’t some bullshit created by a nerd—the North American Aerospace Defense Command ran the site. Yes, the people in charge of making sure North Korean nukes never found their way to America were running a site to trick kids into believing in Santa—which was why I bought their lie. As it turned out, the government was full of shit. Imagine that! Now Google is getting into the business of lying to children about Santa’s location. Fucking assholes.

Image via.

Once a year, people all across Wisconsin gather around the table to celebrate Thanksgiving and eat cannibal sandwiches, appetizers comprised of raw ground beef on cocktail bread. They eat this crap because it’s a tradition, and predictably, this tradition ends with people getting sick, because, you know, they’re eating uncooked meat. This mess proves that practicing traditions damages society. Don’t believe me? Well, traditions are the reason the world discourages women from participating in the work force, people let racists hang Confederate flags on a pole, and—if you want to go back a few thousand years—the Mayans decapitated their slaves. The fortunate part of Wisconsin’s raw meat tradition is the tradition makes practitioners vomit, reminding them that tradition is stupid.

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If you have a penis, your pulse probably increased as you opened the email your grandma forwarded you about a new report from, the Amazon of condom sites, ranking states based on their average penis size. You probably spent an inordinate amount of time in high school worrying about how your erection compared to other dudes’ wieners, and finally you could find out how your endowment compared to other guys’ dicks. (The research was based on which states’ residents most frequently bought large-size condoms, which makes the study totally count as a peer-reviewed experiment.) The Dakotas won two of the three top slots, Mississippi was neither a grower nor a shower, and Georgia was not included on the list presumably because nobody has a penis in Georgia. As far as I’m concerned, I hail from the great state of Illinois, which has the median ranking of 25. As George Costanza once said, “It’s in that meaty part of the curve—not showing off, not falling behind.” Which, frankly, isn’t the first time I heard that.