Posts Tagged ‘ Fake Nonfiction ’

“My Boyfriend Is Gaining Weight And I Feel Shallow Because He’s Too Fat To Rescue Me From This Tower,” by Ben Hargrave

Feb 14th, 2018 | By

My boyfriend Ken and I have been in a beautiful relationship for thirteen years. What started out as a childhood friendship turned into a wonderful, harmonious union of mind, body, and soul. But now the body part is beginning to sag. Ken’s body, to be specific. He is gaining weight and I feel shallow because he’s too fat to rescue me from this tower.



“Nihilist BuzzFeed Quizzes,” by Zoe Baillargeon

Feb 7th, 2018 | By

Pick your fave food item from Chipotle and we’ll guess the exact time and date when you realized life has no purpose.



“This letter is really signed by the CEO of your credit card company,” by Luke Roloff

Jan 31st, 2018 | By

Dear Person,

I hope this letter finds you confused and reliant on people with money.

I’m writing, me, the CEO, to let you know about how our big company did something bad.



“Piano Hoarding Christians,” by Kristy Gherlone

Jan 24th, 2018 | By

The people across the street will not teach me piano. They told me ‘no’, even after I had put on a clean shirt, combed my hair, and walked all the way over there. I thought it would be like asking for a cup of sugar, like neighbors sometimes do. “Will you teach me piano?” I asked nicely.



“I Have No Money for Avocado Toast because I Can’t Stop Buying Houses,” by Daniel Galef

Dec 13th, 2017 | By

There is a hum and my phone skitters an inch or so across the table, bumping into a pastel yellow beachhouse perched on wooden stilts above a vista of scenic rolling dunes.

It’s Marc, asking if I’m down for brunch tomorrow with his cousin who’s in town for a music festival.

With a sigh, I text back to say I can’t afford to keep going to brunch in the middle of the week, by means of the waffle, dollar sign, and sad face emojis



“On Picking My Chow Name,” by Matt Kolbet

Dec 6th, 2017 | By

Dear Mr. Loaf,

Can I call you Meat? I’m writing because we share an affinity for renaming ourselves as grub. You were once Marvin and became so much more. Likewise, I want the culinary glory of nomenclature from foodstuffs.



“Scuffle At Brooklyn Cafe as Customers Declare ‘No Coffee, No Peace,'” by Gilbert Prowler

Nov 29th, 2017 | By

A melee broke out early this morning at a coffee shop in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn between those waiting in line to order their tall, grandes and ventis and the steady stream of customers who ordered online and sauntered past them to grab their waiting drinks.



“Ishmael is Ahab, You Firkin Ash-holes,” by Brian Borrough

Nov 15th, 2017 | By

Item 151. Perhaps the most important literary correspondence we’ve ever offered: an unrecorded handwritten letter from Herman Melville to G.P. (George) Putnam, publisher of Melville’s first novel (Typee) and several of his short stories. This letter doesn’t appear in The New Melville Log or Correspondence, but its provenance is an unbroken chain, and the handwriting unquestioned. All pages have minor foxing; a few unobtrusive tears on page two; one coffee-ring stain on page one partially obscuring the date; several large (including one full-page) blue-pencil question marks scattered throughout. Important, compelling, and rare.



“Sensible Plans for the Use of Poets,” by Robert Buswell

Oct 25th, 2017 | By

There can be little doubt that poets do not contribute greatly to society. Their work, produced in vast abundance, is nearly valueless to our species. Indeed, the great bulk of their efforts are simply given away; the poems cannot be sold. Yet, I believe that poets are capable of contributing meaningfully to the human endeavor and I propose the following ways in which we may put poets to use.



“Hatred for Beginners,” by Mike Fowler

Oct 18th, 2017 | By

Those who have never hated anyone, for example children under ten years old or saints, often don’t know how to show hatred for deserving hateful people, or even what that feeling is like. By rights they should hate quite a few people, as we all should, and yet they are blocked. At most they feel a vague dismay and insecurity in the presence of repulsive others, or become queasy at the thought that so many folks out there are obnoxious jerks, but they can’t summon the proper attitudes of derision and disdain that all these unmitigated asses so richly deserve. Yet by following a few simple rules they can break through this barrier of reticence and let their justified hatred pour forth.