DID YOU KNOW? Manterrupters Suffer From Neuro-Evolutionary Retardation!

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Women around the world are saying “I told you so” as men who never listened to them finally confirm that a form of neuro-evolutionary retardation causes men to unwittingly ignore and interrupt women.

Doctors are referring to the impediment as “hypophrenic impotence,” which is defined as the inability to acknowledge and, in some cases, notice a woman’s presence in a mixed gender social situation. The condition is specific to men of every race, age group and religious background and dates as far back as word of mouth.

But it wasn’t until recently that experts confirmed this unappealing behavior as a neurophysiological trait rather than a mere rumor told by women.

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John Doe, a hypophrenic realtor

You have undoubtedly encountered impotent hypophrenics in a bar, a restaurant, or any other type of social hub.

Conversation ensues as the table fills with men and women. John Doe, our long-suffering man, will strike up a conversation with Jane. He asks what her job is and if she is single and her response of “Lawyer and happily engaged” triggers the poor man’s condition. (John is seeking casual fun, so this is not what he wants to hear).

Jane’s lack of use to him triggers a hypophrenic reaction making him instantly blind to her existence. As soon as the word “lawyer” exits her mouth, he loses the ability to hear what she says and will begin to talk over her or start a conversation with the man sitting nearest to her.

Despite Jane being the primary source of income in her relationship, when they say their goodbyes John will pat her on the small of her back and tell her to ensure ‘he takes good care of you, sweetheart.’

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Experts were surprised to discover that the frontal lobes of impotent hypophrenics hold a strong physical resemblance to a dense serving of mashed potatoes with gravy.

Initial research into the condition revealed that hypophrenic impotence is a symptom of evolutionary stagnancy in the frontal lobe. As a result, situations such as the one just described send the ignarus mentula part of the prefrontal cortex into overdrive. In the case of sufferers of this condition, the brain only recognizes people who can potentially fulfill a Neanderthal role to fill in the subjects’ life.

You see, impotent hypophrenics interpret women as a biological necessity filling the role of food supplier, sexual conquest, and source of admiration. Once a woman removes herself from any of these functions by expressing self-sufficiency or by being intellectually challenging, sexually unavailable or simply “not food,” the ignarus mentula blocks her out. And, if the subject has a particularly keen amygdala, he may even perceive her as a threat.

We now know that impotent hypophrenia is hereditary, and the onset is generally reported as coinciding with the start of puberty. The deformity is passed down by fathers who are unable to see their female partners as anything more than a service to themselves and their house to bring forth sons with a similar outlook.

Doctors initially recommended cognitive behavioral therapy but later found this method to be ineffective because most CBT providers are women. However, now that men are becoming more aware of the condition, a cure might not be so far away.

If you suspect that you or a loved one may be suffering from hypophrenic impotence, find out if you are eligible to participate in medical research by calling your nearest healthcare provider.

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The Rise Of Coffee Warfare In America: A Photo Essay

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The debate surrounding the “right” way to prepare coffee has divided the barista community. Once united over a mutual, diehard passion for the coffee bean, baristas around the country are now ditching their bespoke “roasteries” and “straineries” for coffee-crazed militant groups. Some attribute this to the rise of nationalism in the coffee preparation trade. The Pulp Press reached out to Bean and Gone militant, Sebastian Harvey-Mott, for comment.

For Sebastian Harvey-Mott (Seb to his friends), it all started the summer he graduated from high school and got his first-ever summer job as a customer service rep at Starbucks Coffee, where, over the course of his two-month contract, Seb memorized the essentials of artful coffee making. Seb had been storing a novel in the pipelines since his second year of college where he studied Mexican Folklore at DeVry University. Seb felt confident that, thanks to his coffee expertise, academic prowess, and one-month volunteer experience building houses in Mexico he had the intellectual worldliness to pad out the next revolutionary piece of literature.

But Seb was forced to deviate from his plan due to his poor spending habits. No publisher or Kinko’s franchise wanted to print Seb’s book, and he was barely making more than minimum wage at now full-time barista job at Starbucks. “I could barely afford my apartment, friendships, and coffee dates – even with a monthly allowance from my parents.”

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Seb’s expenditures forced him to work tiring hours, but it was all worth it when a headhunter found his LinkedIn profile and recruited him for a sales rep position at Bean and Gone, an independent café-boutique just up the road from home. “They said they could tell I was the barista just by the way I composed myself,” Seb recalls.

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Seb accepted the job before he even heard the whole offer, and he got a pay rise just as quickly. Furthermore, knowing he was working for an independent company rather than a faceless corporation made him feel closer to a higher purpose.

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Working at Bean and Gone was a pleasure. The shop was full of penguin classics for casual browsing when not manning the machines. Seb could enjoy his 15-minute break knowing that, while he sat with his Guatemalan drip filtered coffee, he could be seen flicking through any number of pieces of renowned literature.

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Seb felt like his colleagues “got” him; they were all lovers of the drip filter, the manifestly superior coffee method. Seb’s coworkers invited him to attend meetups, held by the local branch of the nationwide Beaners Collective, in a local warehouse in an up-and-coming part of town.

“There was like a sense of oneness in this group of talented artists of cuisine,” Seb recalls. But the collective effervescence turned cold when nobody could agree on the “right” coffee preparation method.

Seb explains, “If you drink anything but the drip, you might as well drink earl grey.”

The preparation discussion turned into a dramatic argument that is now considered one of the most controversial and divisive subjects in barista discourse. The debate pulled The Beaners apart as smaller factions emerged per preferred preparation method.

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Sebastian remained aligned with Bean and Gone and was lucky enough to land another job in the clubhouse of the “Drip Filter Tilters, the baddest crew in Portland,” before things got too crazy. The rivalries all started pretty innocently; the odd bit of abuse thrown on the street, boycotting of rivals shops and the odd bit of shop front graffiti but it didn’t take long to get ramped up.

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Gang colors and tattoos were an inevitable turn in the rapidly inflaming rivalries between factions. They allowed for easy identification and made it easier to pick out rivals on the streets and know what coffee shops were housing them. Some say the tattoos are what sparked the violence.

In the last six months, coffee connoisseurs have seen several incidents involving the throwing of hot coffee, shipment hijacking, and ritual de-bearding (a humiliation tactic). However, the tension and conflict have only intensified and become more violent. This year alone has seen a total of 53 fatalities result from brutal coffee-related incidents. In December of last year, two young Decaf Instant enthusiasts (A.K.A Before Bedtime Boys or TripleB’s) were force-fed double Columbian espresso until they died of cardiac overload. This January, two people were killed in a midnight raid when the NYPD replaced the Brooklyn faction’s entire bean supply with decaf. The resulting caffeine deficiency left two of the members in a state of comatose before dying days later. The deaths were reported as natural (but under suspicious circumstances).

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“I have a lot of blood on my hands.” – Sebastian Harvey-Mott

With the wars raging on and no signs of a peace treaty, these angry caffeine heads will soon be rivaling the Crips and Bloods for pointless killings.

Nevertheless, Seb has high hopes for the future of the bean. Still sporting the gang emblem on his barista apron and with a balaclava rolled fashionably high over his years from last night’s hijinks he leaves us with this little insight: “I know we will end up losing small battles here and there, I may even end up losing a friend or two but fighting for what I believe in is more important to me than all of that. My father got to fight for his country, something he loved, as did his father before him. This is my time to shine, my gauntlet to face. I am proving myself and I know deep down in my heart that soon the nonbelievers will come around or be ground up like the bean we all love so much.”

Three weeks after this interview, Seb was identified by his dental records after the well known ‘dry roasting’ incident in which three gangs all conned into believing there was a black market Colombian coffee sale. All three were locked in a huge cargo container and rather ironically roasted at around 500 degrees for 5 to 10 minutes.

Third-Grader’s Swear Jar Proceeds Will Pay For Her Ivy League Education

Sage Parlancer is the envy of her third-grade classroom; she has saved enough swear jar money to afford her entire future college tuition, and possibly her retirement. Her excellent vocabulary and money-saving skills have already gotten her accepted into three Ivy League schools. 

“I’ve been passionate about profanities since I was about three years old,” Sage recalls. According to Sage, it all started one morning when she witnessed her father stub his toe while making breakfast. “He was so angry! He was like, ‘F@%* S#%! C#@!,’ and I was just thinking, ‘wow, what a wonderful avenue for self-expression.’ When my mom found out about what happened, she got so angry that she started cursing as well. It was amazing. I’ve loved swearing ever since.”

Sage’s parents, Fretta and Frank Parlancer, used to lay awake with sweaty, pounding hearts as they thought about the drug-addicted prostitute they were certain their daughter would become. “It was about two months after her fourth birthday when we realized we needed to do something to stop her. We tried washing her mouth out with soap, but that didn’t work, so we did some Googling and decided that a swear jar would be the best way to teach her some manners.”

A True Polyglot

The swear jar only inspired Sage to take her love for dirty words to a new extreme: “By the time I was five, I had learned the entire French language just because I thought I was cursing,” Sage remembers.

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Sage’s money banks line a five-tier shelf in her home.

Sage’s exploration of the French language (combined with her naturally romantic disposition) motivated her to curse in Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Romanian, as well as in German, Swedish, Russian, Swahili, Amharic, Arabic, Hebrew, Urdu, Farsi, Hindi, Nepali, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, and Klingon.

By the time Sage turned six, the Parlancers had an entire five-tier bookshelf lined with swear jars and piggy banks, each designated for their respective swear word. “It got to the point where we were scared she was going to become a prostitute AND that we would go into debt trying to make sure she had enough coins to put in her swear jar,” Frank remembers.

But after news got out about Sage’s impressive savings, it became clear that Sage’s parents no longer needed to worry because their darling eight-year-old already had a promising future ahead of her.

Now, the only thing Sage and her parents have to think about is which Ivy League school she will attend in the fall of 2028 as she’s already been offered positions at Columbia, Harvard, and Yale.

Sage, you are an inspiration. Keep up the good work!

NRA Lobbies Congress To Arm Qualified Women With Vaginal Assault Rifles

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Dana Loesch poses with her new vaginal assault rifle.

Fairfax, Virginia – The NRA has announced plans to arm qualified women with vaginal assault rifles to “protect against rape.” The CB-69 Vaginal Assault Rifle targets male urethras with tiny hot pellets. The NRA has said they don’t want to protect women from rape, but that that maintaining relevance in the eyes of Congress is the critical matter here. Oh, and your family’s safety, of course.

“If this is the only way for us to stay relevant, so be it.”

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The CB-69 Vaginal Assault Rifle is “100% safer than anything else.”

If you thought firearm technology had advanced since the founding fathers drafted the Second Amendment, just wait until you see this bad boy.

The CB-69 is not only the most compact firearm in existence to date; the product is also eco-friendly. The vaginal assault rifle comes equipped with ten reusable mini pellets “to take care of your attacker and the environment,” and a silicone applicator “to ensure you can get it up there all nice and snug,” said Ms. Loesch. “This is the best way, the safest way, for women to protect themselves against rape and save the environment while they’re at it; kill two birds with one stone, or whatever.”

The news has sparked speculation over whether the NRA is making a desperate attempt to appeal to anti-gun Democrats and supporters of Planned Parenthood. The NRA has said that, yes, this weapon can be inserted upside down to shoot pellets at an embryo through the cervix, but claim to have taken measures to reduce the potential number of abortion incidents by adhering several warning labels on the packaging.

Pregnant women, for one, are not qualified to use this weapon. However, the NRA says that they will “turn a blind eye” if pregnant women do use the CB-69 as an abortion tool. “Our reputation is of utmost importance,” said NRA Spokeswoman, Dana Loesch. “If you give yourself an abortion with the CB-69, that’s really fucked up, but we will continue defending your right to choose.”

Furthermore, menstruating women are not allowed to use the CB-69. “Menstruating women are too irrational, and the chances of them getting raped are pretty slim anyway,” said Ms. Loesch.  In general, “hysterical” women will be denied access to these weapons. “We don’t want a bunch of trigger-happy crazies putting this in their birth canals,” Ms. Loesch added.

The guns are for internal, feminine use only. “Putting it in your anus would be a crime against nature.”

If the lobby is successful, you will be able to buy your own CB-69 Vaginal Assault Rifle at your local gun shop. They will also be available at chains such as Dick’s Sporting Goods, Walmart, and Amazon.

 

Suspected Murder Scene In Ladies’ Restroom “Just A Mooncup Mishap”

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Local authorities are pleased to announce that, though “traumatizing” and “pretty gross,” the bloodbath found in a public ladies’ restroom was not caused by a transgender murderer but rather a slightly embarrassed cis woman who spilled her Mooncup contents on the floor. The accident has several male lawmakers debating whether or not the insertion and removal of menstrual cups should be legal in ladies’ restrooms.

Though the culprit has come forward to confess, she refuses to apologize, claiming that she “couldn’t help it,” and “didn’t have time to clean it up.”

The news has sparked concern among male legislators in Washington who worry that the benefits of menstrual cups do not outweigh the drawbacks. Now, the male lawmakers are considering implementing a law that bans the insertion and removal of Mooncups in public ladies’ bathrooms.

“My wife and daughters shouldn’t have to risk seeing pools of blood every time they use a restroom. It’s disgusting, and it’s unnatural,” said Female Anatomy Expert/R-Senator, Marco Rubio, before vehemently denying that he or anyone in his family has ever had a period.

Others argue that periods are very natural and that women who use Mooncups should be applauded for utilizing eco-friendly period collection methods. To protest, they urge women to send their used sanitary products to the following address:
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW,
Washington, DC 20500

Livid Bitch Finally Speaks Out Against Street Harassment

doggycam_WPLos Angeles, C.A. – Tinkerbell Howley, a Labrador from the suburbs of Los Angeles, wanted to show the world how much harassment she endures while trying to walk anonymously with her owner in the street, so she went on a walk with a GoPro on her back. She plans to make a compilation film of a year’s worth of GoPro footage.

The doggy cam footage to date shows random passersby shoving their hands in front of her nose.  Whether she expressed interest or not, the harassers would then move to rubbing her ears, neck, and armpits. Some people even gave her kisses, “as if I want your mouth all over me.” Tinkerbell cringes as she replays the footage.

“Aw, she’s irresistible. I was giving her a compliment,” says Gerald Corrola, a fellow resident of Tink’s neighborhood. “If I had known she didn’t like it, I would have stopped bother-”

Gerald then lost his train of thought when he noticed a young woman on the opposite sidewalk. “Hey, sexy!” he called out to her. She ignored him. “Hey, didn’t your mom teach you to say thank you?” He shouted. “Fuck off,” she clarified. “Hey, fuck you, you ugly piece of ass!” he yelled back to her.

Bitches these days…

As a puppy, Tinkerbell Howley loved going outside. But her affinity for the outdoors diminished to dread when she became aware of how many entitled humans felt entitled to encroach on her personal space.

“They would click, squeal, gawk, and whistle at me from all directions,” says Tink. “I tried to ignore them, but I have really sensitive ears.”

The more it happened, Tink says, the angrier she became. She tried telling the strangers to go away. If she barked, her owner would yell at her. If she simply ignored the harassment, it would only intensify.

In turn, her resentment escalated into a fear of the outdoors. “She would hide her nose in a pile of pillows every time I mentioned the words ‘leash’ or ‘walk,'” recalls her owner, Mark Howley.

“It’s because you’re too cute, Tink,” Mark would try to comfort her. His reaction exasperated Tink’s frustration. According to Tink, Mark even blamed her for the harassment, citing her wagging tail as the provoker. “I can’t help wagging my fucking tail, it’s just how canine anatomy works,” she snarks at the memory.

Tinkerbell concocted a plan. “The next time Mark touched the leash, I retrieved his GoPro from the cupboard and dropped it on the floor next to his feet.” Mark thought the concept of a doggy-cam video sounded like a “cool idea” and complied.

Instagram Foodie Loses Influence After Blindly Following A Cannibal

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An Instagram foodie’s follower count has plummetted after she accidentally followed a cannibal in an attempt to gain more followers.

After spending hours of her boring Sunday shift at Smoothie King participating in like-for-like, comment-for-comment, and follow-for-follow campaigns on Instagram, foodie Sue Dickinson (@Desperate4taste) realized too late that she had accidentally liked, praised, and followed one or more of Instagram’s cannibals.

The cannibal has only shared two images so far, and Desperate4taste commented on and liked both of them.

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Desperate4taste expresses praise to Instagram cannibal with several emojis

Dickinson alleges she was scrolling through “all of the like-minded foodies” on Instagram, using hashtags such as “#meatlover,” “#getinmybelly,” “#foodporn,” and “#cookingfresh”, and blindly interacting with every photo and user she encountered. Somewhere along the way, she happened to express her deep appreciation to Can_nibble, an anonymous Instagram cannibal.

Dickinson claims she does not recall liking, following, or sending comments to Can_nibble, but her followers sure do. “I opened Instagram and saw that Desperate4taste had sent a deluge of emojis to Can_Nibble. When I clicked on Can_nibble’s profile to see learn more about them, the first thing I noticed was that their bio said ‘Nothing better than a bit of freshly cooked human flesh. #Cannibalism.’ When I scrolled down, I saw loads of pictures that were just inarguably cannibalistic.”

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Can_nibble’s Instagram page has no profile picture, and the bio reads: “Flesh Fries…Nothing better than a bit of freshly cooked human flesh! #cannibalism”

The Pulp Press attempted to reach out to Can_nibble, who is apparently a fugitive and unwilling to comment. However, the account is still active, and Instagram foodies from all walks of life continue to like Can_nibble’s photos.

Sue Dickinson was not the only foodie to praise Can_nibble’s account, but she is the only one who has given a statement (not that anyone cares). Dickinson is set to take an indefinite hiatus from social media.

The Pulp Press: