On Wednesday, The Daily Beast published an article describing a reporter’s attempts to use several dating apps, such as Tinder and Grindr, near the Olympic Village in the Rio de Janeiro suburb of Barra da Tijuca. The piece, which was written by London correspondent Nico Hines, was widely condemned after readers realized that it was possible to identify a number of closeted gay Olympic athletes with whom Hines, who is straight, had communicated. After substantially editing the text, and appending an apologetic editors’ note, the site completely removed it on Thursday night:

We initially thought swift removal of any identifying characteristics and better clarification of our intent was the adequate way to address this. Our initial reaction was that the entire removal of the piece was not necessary. We were wrong.

Today we did not uphold a deep set of The Daily Beast’s values. These values—which include standing up to bullies and bigots, and specifically being a proudly, steadfastly supportive voice for LGBT people all over the world—are core to our commitment to journalism and to our commitment to serving our readers.

The same note, which replaced the article, says the article’s removal was “unprecedented but necessary” and described it as “a failure on The Daily Beast as a whole, not a single individual.”

The takedown came after nearly universal condemnation from other outlets, including Fusion, Yahoo! Sports, and Outsports, among others. Slate alone devoted three different articles to criticizing the piece, which the site branded as “homophobic,” “dangerous,” “sleazy,” “poisonous,” and a work of “mendacious deception.”

A more charitable reading of Hines’ piece suggests that he wanted to write a fun—but by no means malicious—trend piece about horny Olympic athletes, a conceit that heavily depended on self-deprecation. One athlete, he wrote, “asked for ‘a sex foto,’ but I’m a bit of a prude like that, so I sent a selfie from the fencing earlier this week. Strangely, that didn’t deter him, and he sent me the name of his building.” There is no evidence that Hines actually harbors hatred of gay people, which is usually considered the defining feature of homophobia, or otherwise intended to place gay people in harm’s way.

“In a twisted way, I could see how the Daily Beast might have thought this story was in fact pro-gay,” the gay columnist John Aravosis wrote today. “In the old days, you’d avoid a story like this, in part because ‘civilized’ people didn’t talk about [homosexuality].”

As Aravosis and others pointed out, however, the finished article certainly veered into dangerous territory, due largely to The Daily Beast’s inclusion of the height, weight, nationality, and competitive event of several (unnamed) Olympic athletes who were supposedly using Grindr to arrange dates with Hines. One such athlete, Hines noted, was competing for a country in central Asia whose government is hostile to homosexuality. The identifying details were quickly excised, but not before many readers were able to cross-reference them with at least five athlete biographies.

Removing an entire article because it is controversial, rather than inaccurate or defamatory, is exceedingly rare in the journalism industry. But the practice is becoming more and more common. (Last year, Gawker Media’s managing partnership voted to remove an article that was criticized for reasons not entirely unlike the ones cited by readers and outlets criticizing The Daily Beast.)

At the moment, it remains unclear who, exactly, decided that the article needed to be removed in its entirety. We’ve asked the The Daily Beast for comment and will update this post if we hear back.

Kotaku Ash Could Win Finally Win A Pokémon League | Paleofuture Why Do People Want Thousands of Dollars For Disney VHS Tapes on eBay? | Jalopnik Acura Completely Destroyed A Ferrari 458 For Analysis | Lifehacker Learn the Best Way to Handle Traffic to Smooth Your Daily Commute |

There is nothing funny about the real Donald Trump, a raisin company mascot channelling the spirit of an internet commenter. What is funny is the voice actor behind Futurama’s Zapp Brannigan reading some of Trump’s dumbest quotes (from 2016 and beyond) in character.

Billy West—who also voices Fry, Prof. Farnsworth and Zoidberg—tweeted some of the clips earlier today.

Boy, it’s time to go watch some Futurama again.

Donald Trump has had quite a week, making jokes about Hillary Clinton’s potential murder before declaring that she and Barack Obama are the co-founders of the Islamic State. He said it, and then he said it again the next morning, and now he says it was sarcasm. “Ratings challenged @CNN reports so seriously that I call President Obama (and Clinton) ‘the founder’ of ISIS, & MVP,” he tweeted this morning. “THEY DON’T GET SARCASM?”

While conservative talk radio and the rhetoric that form engages in is a major factors contributing to Trump’s popularity, the candidate’s own rhetoric—not just the words he says, but how he says them—is more akin to a stand-up comic or late-night host: The patterns and rhythms, the punchlines and asides, the faux-familiarity. And yet, sometime earlier this summer, about a year into Donald Trump’s candidacy, after watching hours upon hours of footage from his campaign rallies, cable news interviews, and debate performances, I realized that I could not recall having seen the Manhattan real estate developer laugh—like, genuinely laugh—a single time.

Nobody takes Trump more seriously than Trump, and there’s no question that he is utterly lacking in a sense of humor about himself. This has been obvious since at least 2011, when Comedy Central hosted a “Roast” for the real estate developer. (It looks to have been pretty excruciating.) That same year, Obama roasted Trump at the White House Correspondents Dinner—an experience which, as has now been widely reported, steeled Trump’s resolve to run for president.

But even if Trump is unable to laugh at himself, that hasn’t stopped him from repeatedly claiming to have been “joking” or “kidding” in the wake of several controversial statements. The most recent example, before his purportedly sarcastic remarks about Clinton and Obama being the co-founders of ISIS, was when he said he was “just kidding” about not minding a crying baby at a campaign event. And after Trump said on Tuesday that Clinton “gets to pick her judges, nothing you can do, folks. Although, the Second Amendment people, maybe there is,” House Speaker Paul Ryan said the remarks sounded like “a joke gone bad.” Trump later said he was talking about voters.

Humor has played an odd role in both Trump’s campaign—he is very concerned with who, around the world, is “laughing at” the United States (mostly China, apparently)—and coverage of it: By making outrageously offensive statements right from the get-go, he forced journalists into the difficult position of having to maintain impartiality and professionalism when confronted with a prospect both horrifying and absurd. This is an untenable position in mainstream media, consumers of which are increasingly unable to hold two seemingly-contradictory ideas in their heads at once, which leads to covers like this one, from Wednesday’s New York Daily News, wherein the publication declares “This Isn’t A Joke Any More.” (Helpfully, an inset shows the cover from when Trump declared his candidacy: “Clown Runs For Prez.”)

Except—it is. Trump isn’t actually any more offensive now than he was a year ago, so any commentators or pundits who decide, in August 2016, that now Trump isn’t funny anymore are either totally myopic, disingenuous or both. He is still a joke: A horrifying, absurd joke that should make your skin crawl. It is possible to be outraged and to laugh at the same time—in the face of something like Trump, protecting our ability to laugh at him might actually be the only thing that keeps us from completely losing our heads. It is possible to both laugh at what he is saying and to understand that it is deadly serious.

Trump isn’t being sarcastic—being sarcastic requires an understanding of nuance, of irony, of playfulness. And just as his politics demonstrate little more awareness of how complex the world actually is than a drunk uncle’s lengthy Facebook comment, Trump displays the same sense of humor: small-minded and mean and totally, totally unfunny.

This, incidentally, is the only video I could find of Trump laughing:

I am a big magazine boy with many important things to say about the Samsung Galaxy S7 smartphone, but the most important thing you should know about me is this: I have done Bad Things.

The Samsung Galaxy S7 smartphone is thick, like that student in my Undergraduate Writing Seminar, the one from two years ago. She—the phone—is also stunning; her sharp angles like the razor cheekbones on the last girl I tried to save, will always be trying to save. Sometimes I dream about what could have been, if I’d only gotten there sooner, before she reached her late-twenties.

But I digress; this phone will never betray me by aging.

It’s true—this is an essay about a smartphone. But there’s another, more pressing issue driving this review: Myself. For I contain multitudes you couldn’t possibly understand—just look at the Bad Things I’ve done.

I won’t address them directly, though I’ll allude to them, by way of reference to a woman I once loved who ruined me, making me the Bad Boy I am today. Everything I am, everything I’ve done—lying, cheating, masturbating to my own byline, I did for her. She was beautiful, with large breasts and a pulse. But in the end, I wasn’t enough for her, or perhaps she wasn’t enough for me—no one ever is. If you’re not a big magazine boy reviewing the Samsung Galaxy S7 smartphone, you wouldn’t understand.

There’s a word that comes up in old country songs: “Hey.” And that was how I felt when she and I parted ways. “Hey,” the world called out to me. “Hey,” I called out to the world, mostly via Twitter DMs. “Hey,” my mom texted me on the Samsung Galaxy S7 smartphone I’m reviewing. I didn’t respond to her using the smartphone’s 4G capabilities, because I have more important things to do.

I wasn’t always this way. Once I was satiated, dog-earring the pages of my Bukowskis, content in the knowledge I too might one day drink alcohol and write about the Bad Things it makes men do. At that age, life was like a plump peach, ripe for the taking, ready to give me the pleasure I have always known I deserved. But that was then, and at some point in the ensuing years my life has come to resemble a dried out apricot that smells like cigarettes, of which I smoke many outside the bar because my delicate, artistic sensibilities can’t bear it inside among the unenlightened anymore, at least until someone shows up with drugs.

A philosopher once wrote, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened,” and the phrase rushes into my head like a late-night freighter, as I stand there, holding the Samsung Galaxy S7 smartphone in my hand, in which it fits comfortably despite its large (and impressively sharp) screen. Maybe it’s time to let the past fade into the past. After all, if you burrow deep enough into the abyss, eventually you won’t see anything at all. But even in the dark, I’ll still know if she’s hot.

New Orleans jazz funeral saxophones wail somewhere outside the halogen-lit hallways of this seedy hotel, where I’m writing this review, on a typewriter.

The phone comes in white, gold, silver and black.

4.6/5

The Cuck is Gawker’s pop-up, bespoke men’s interest site.

If you do a search for “Disney VHS” on eBay, you’ll find plenty of 1990s Disney movies to choose from. You’ll also notice something strange: a lot of people are asking for a ton of money. Literally hundreds of people are asking for more than $1,000 per tape for everything from Beauty and the Beast to The Little Mermaid. Dozens more are asking for over $10,000 per tape. One person is asking for $1.5 million for 12 Disney tapes. What’s going on here?

First things first, you’re not going to get rich from your Disney VHS collection. Literally every middle class family of the 1990s had these tapes, and unless Walt Disney’s frozen head personally signed your copy of Aladdin, its street value is roughly $1.50 at your local Goodwill. So why are so many people asking for outlandish prices on eBay?

It all started with an article in the Tech Times that was published back in May of this year. The provocative title “You May Have Hit the Jackpot If You Still Own This Disney Movie on VHS,” certainly caught plenty of attention and it spread like wildfire from there. Even respected news outlets around the world like the Sydney Morning Herald were tricked into reporting on this non-story recently.

The original article and subsequent viral articles that followed looked at eBay listings for Beauty and the Beast VHS tapes from 1992, which were part of the “Black Diamond Collection.” This collection, like all of Disney’s home video releases, were only available for a limited time to preserve a kind of artificial scarcity, despite the fact that they literally sold millions of copies.

Some of the sellers on eBay from May were asking for nearly $10,000 for this “incredibly rare” version of Beauty and the Beast. The catch? Obviously they’re not so rare since they sold millions of copies. And more importantly, asking for a particularly high price on eBay isn’t the same thing as actually selling something for that price. The original article in Tech Times doesn’t seem to understand that.

It’s certainly possible that some people have gotten confused and purchased a regular, old 1990s Disney VHS tape for more than a few bucks on eBay. But that doesn’t mean you should. Unless, like I said, Mr. Disney somehow managed to put his John Hancock on the thing.

Update, August 12, 10:23am: To be clear, a handful of people really have spent absurd amounts of money on Disney tapes on eBay, as you can see from the June 3, 2016 auction below. But if you spend $18,990 on a Beauty and the Beast VHS tape there are only two possible explanations: You’re either very unwell or you’re laundering money.

This website once ran a valuable column called “Hey, Science” that got the stupid scientific questions of you, the readers, answered by real live experts. Not every question made the cut.

Many readers sent in questions to the Hey, Science desk, in search of answers. Many readers also did not “have what it takes.” Here, in the spirit of cleaning out our trash this week, are some of the real “Hey, Science” questions submitted by you, our possibly dangerous audience.

• “My question to ‘hey science’ is why do humans dream? Is it because the brain keeps deleting and storing information?”
  
• “Were there more atom’s during the big bang then there are now? How are atoms formed?”
  
• “Is there all people on earth related to each other if we look at from beginning (life started on earth)??”
  
• “Can dogs smell how you feel?”
  
• “This has always intrigued me: so since my cat grows bigger and/or can heal by consuming only cat food and water, does that mean that if you could build things on a molecular level, you could theoretically build an entire working cat out of a bucket of H2O and a bag of cat food (and a pair of jumper cables, I guess)?”
  
• “If I owned a money bin like Scrooge McDuck, what would be the best type of US coins to have in my money bin order to swim around?”
  
• “So the other day my Canadian Jewish sister in law and my California half-Jewish American ex-wife (who is still my friend) were having a huge argument about whether Jewish identity is cultural constructed or biologically/naturally determined or both. [CONTINUES]”
  
• “This may be less scientific than some ‘Hey, Science’ questions, but I’m wondering how accurate it is that action heroes can never shoot someone holding someone else hostage with a gun to their head when the bad guy’s head is clearly visible.”
  
• “How Healthy Would Animal Food Be? I’m talking about dry food and tinned food, could one be healthier than the other? I guess it makes kind of sense because a dog is fine with a little bit of ham or sausage or whatever.”
  
• “The question is: if you were to stand on the world’s most sensitive scales, and fart, would your weight increase or decrease?”
  
• “My question is this: How long do you think it’ll take before the human body is integrated into wireless technology?”
  
• “We know that animals like bears and camels are able to survive for lo periods of time on their fat stores? Can humans do this as well?”
  
• “Is it safe to eat tumors?”
  
• “Is Earth our other body?”
  

We may never know.

Previously

The answered questions of “Hey, Science” can be found here.

On Thursday, the New York Times and USA Today parent company Gannett requested that the New York State Supreme Court unseal records from Donald Trump’s contentious 1990 divorce with Ivana Trump. During one deposition, Ivana reportedly accused Trump of sexual assault. The divorce ended in a settlement agreement, and Ivana has endorsed Donald’s candidacy, denying that he ever assaulted her.

http://gawker.com/the-time-donal…

But according to confidential files, obtained by Gawker, from an investigation into Trump in the early ‘90s by the New Jersey Department of Gaming Enforcement, the Manhattan developer invoked his Fifth Amendment rights not to incriminate himself nearly a hundred times during the deposition—a fact which Wayne Barrett also reported in his book, The Deals and the Downfall. Trump apparently took the Fifth mostly in response to questions about his relationships with other women. (Update: Marcus Baram has previously reported on this investigation at Fast Company.)

The records “have become directly relevant to the issues being debated in the hotly contested presidential campaign,” Gannett and the Times argue. “It would be deeply incongruous to American democracy to bar the public from seeing the official court records pertaining directly to the credibility and character of a person they must soon decide whether to elect as their president.”

I am so done with this election and its scandals. Between Benghazi and kicking a baby out of a rally, I can’t vote for either of the two major candidates in good conscience. So what do I do come November 1st? I’m a patriot, and thus it is my duty to exercise my fundamental right as an American citizen and vote. Plus I heard if you don’t vote, you die.

I imagine millions of Americans are feeling the same way, so I graciously took it upon myself to investigate alternative options. What the mainstream media doesn’t tell you is this: There are 1,830 people are currently running for president, according to the Federal Election Commission’s website. So down with the two-party system! Vote for one of these qualified Americans instead:

Buffy Anne Summers

Pros: Saved the world 7+ times; Giles would make an excellent chief of staff; resilient enough to have died twice and still be going strong; finally a woman in the White House!

Cons: Being both the slayer and the president sounds like too much responsibility for one person.

Touchy the Pedophile Serial Killer Uncle Clown

Pros: I really see none.

Cons: Probably a bad uncle, also a pedophile and serial killer.

Jill Stein

Pros: Harvard MD; wants to abolish student debt.

Cons: Thinks wi-fi is hurting our children; still a little iffy on whether she thinks vaccines cause autism.

Francis J. Underwood

Pros: Kevin Spacey is extremely hot.

Cons: A vote for Frank Underwood feels equivalent to a vote for a parody Twitter account.

Sydneys Voluptuous Buttocks

Pros: Butts have been in since, like, 2014.

Cons: Is Sydney’s voluptuous buttocks a strong enough platform to run on? Can it support the weight of the world’s problems? I’m not convinced.

9/11 Bushdid

Pros: Presumably what Yoda would sound like if he was a 9/11 truther.

Cons: Presumably what Yoda would sound like if he was a 9/11 truther.

The Antichrist

Pros: The Lars Von Trier presidency we’ve all been secretly pining for.

Cons: Running with the Communist Party, which supports an ideology that rejects religion, thus rejecting Christ and his inverse; has yet to really differentiate himself from his opponent, Childeater/Molester McSatanAntichrist.

What Are Thooooose

Pros: This meme never gets old. This meme might be the one thing to unite this very divided country.

Cons: A What Are Thooooose presidency will likely ruin the joke.

Ponzi Schemes Suck

Pros: I agree, ponzi schemes are bad!

Cons: But is that really the most pressing issue facing our country right now?

Bill Clinton

Pros: Has amazing experience, extremely qualified.

Cons: Sort of a dick move to run against your wife; signed 1994 Crime Bill into law.

AAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Pros: I’m also always screaming.

Cons: I see none.

Looks like I’m going with AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA because if anything will unite this country, it’s the desire to fucking scream my lungs out. Hope this helps you make an informed decision. Namaste.

Peggy Noonan on Germany’s decision to admit 800,000 refugees from Muslim countries: “It’s one thing to be overwhelmed by an unexpected force, quite another to invite your invaders in!”

http://gawker.com/5959150/peggy-…

Activist-turned-New York Daily News senior justice writer Shaun King writes on very serious topics like the justice system, police brutality, and Black Lives Matter. Which is why it is so baffling that the Daily News frequently promotes his stories on Twitter by inserting King’s visage into the story art, often to hilarious effect.

Sometimes it’s a head shot, other times his full, arms-crossed upper body; sometimes he appears in the corner, other times prominently in the middle; sometimes he gets his own background, other times it looks like a very bad Photoshop job. All in all, the photos suggest to the reader that King himself is the protagonist of all his stories.

Here are all of the different tweets featuring the King avatar we found, ranked:

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27.

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#29.

30.

31.

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Early this morning, someone pretending to be aspiring YouTube star Martin Shkreli sent out a fake press release and CC-ed over 400 media people—journalists, bloggers, freelancers, social media directors, tweeters, what-have-you. Because we are all the worst kind of people—and because everyone knows that this GIF, this GIF is going to be the funny one that everyone loves—there has been an incessant stream of “reply alls” for hours.

Replying only adds to the nightmare. The only correct way to handle this situation is with shame. So with that in mind, here are the worst people in online media, starting with our own Tim Marchman (who insists he started this whole thing on purpose). We’ll be updating this list as more information becomes available.

Update 3:15 p.m.

We will no longer be updating this post since that’s exactly what you assholes want.

1. Tim Marchman, Deadspin

2. Dell Cameron, The Daily Dot

3. Michael Hafford, Refinery 29

4. Slava Pastuk, freelance

5. Margot Huysman, The Daily Mail

6. Jon Levine, Mic

7. Angela Bacca, freelance

8. Anthony Smith, Mic

9. Emily Cahn, Mic

10. Sasha Kalra, Vice

11. Sarah Harvard, Mic

12. Helena Horton, The Telegraph

13. Holly Brockwell, Gadgette

14. Jillian Richardson, freelance

15. Kevin Ryan, Inc.com

16. Miles Surrey, Mic

17. Saira Khan, The New Yorker

18. Kirsten Browning, freelance

19. Andy Campbell, The Huffington Post

20. Julia Reinstein, BuzzFeed

21. Rachel Brodsky, Spin

22. Katie Notopoulos, BuzzFeed

23. Brian Abrams, Death and Taxes

24. Anna Menta, Elite Daily

25. Tanya Ghahremani, Bustle

26. Alex Rees, Cosmopolitan

27. Beca Grimm, Creative Loafing Atlanta

28. Mary Emily O’Hara, The Daily Dot

29. Georgina Grogan, She Might Be Loved

30. Eric Dolan, Raw Story

31. Charles Poladian, International Business Times

32. Dave Lozo, Vice

33. Liam Mathews, CBS

34. Caitlin Greenwood, freelance

35. Jessica Blankenship, The Frisky

36. Sophie Kleeman, Gizmodo

37. Josh OKane, The Globe and Mail

38. Colin Jones, The Daily Beast

39. Jeremy Kaplan, Digital Trends

40. Shawn Binder, The Huffington Post

41. David Gilmour, freelance

42. Jennifer Still, Bustle

43. J. Camm, BroBible

44. Laura Reilly, Thrillist

45. Kate Bevan, freelance

46. Brett Leppard, Metro.co.uk

47. Melissa Kravitz, freelance

48. Tabetha Wallace, RT

49. Chris Tognotti, The Daily Dot

50. Mike Isaac, The New York Times

51. David Bixenspan, freelance

52. Jennifer Mascia, The Trace

53. Chrissa Hardy, Bustle

54. Jillian Anthony, Time Out New York

55. Lauren Holter, The Frisky

56. Megan Messerly, The Las Vegas Sun

57. Derek Mead, Motherboard

58. Bryne Yancey, Alternative Press

59. Jamie Varon, freelance

60. Luke Winkie, freelance

61. Amos Barshad, The Fader

62. Selena Larson, The Daily Dot

63. Mallory Cara, freelance

64. Russell Dean Stone, Beat Magazine

65. Ben Jacobs, The Guardian

66. Tanzina Vega, CNN Money

67. Bryan Clark, The Next Web

68. Maurice Peebles, Complex

69. Anna Fitzpatrick, freelance

70. Amber Jamieson, The Guardian

71. Tova Benjamin, freelance

72. Edward Scheinman, Pacific Standard

73. Josh Peterson, freelance

74. Brian Ries, CNN

75. Dan Amira, The Daily Show

76. Sara David, Complex Magazine

77. Phillip Picardi, Teen Vogue

78. Courtney Smith, Refinery 29

It has come to my attention, though frankly, I should have realized it earlier, that there’s probably plenty of high-quality literature out there from burgeoning feminists who’ve taken a Women’s Studies 101: Here’s the Difference Between You, a Man, Calling Me a Cunt and Me Calling Myself One class, on this website you’re reading, Jezebel dot com.

I’d love to read those thoughts, and to republish excerpts of them, along with any grade or feedback you received for your ideas and your opinions on how these papers held up, on Jezebel. Your identity will be redacted, unless you’d like the credit for your words, in which case of course it will be given.

You know where to find me.

It becomes clear once you grow up just how unprepared most people are for adulthood. I think this is partly because no one ever tells you how awful it is to spend much of your free time in bars.

In college, after years of cramped house parties and haunted frat basements, going to bars feels novel. Pretty much every bar is terrible, but the sloppiness is the point. You behave badly because you’re testing the limits of being unsupervised. Also, there are Jell-O shots. Plus, who would want to hang out with the person going to your college town’s one bespoke cocktail bar?

But somehow, going to bars as an adult is even worse. How many times do you really have fun at bars? Be honest with yourself. For me, I would say it’s only when I’m with a small, closely curated group of friends and sitting outside. Basically every other time I’m in a bar I would rather be pretty much anywhere else, such as on my couch.

The thing about bars is that they don’t even make sense. Quiet bars are weird, objectively, because you feel like everyone can hear your conversation. So most bars play music. But because music makes people talk louder, the bar must turn the volume up so that everyone can hear the music. This triggers a cycle that results in people standing around and yelling over loud music directly into each other’s faces or earholes. In what way is this ever enjoyable? It’s even worse when a bar is clearly playing music intended for people to dance, but instead of dancing, everyone is just screaming themselves hoarse about their dumb jobs. The most useless you will ever be is when you’re the person triangulating two other people shouting into each other’s ears at a bar. Why don’t we just have birthday drinks on the tarmac at JFK?

The worst part is that we all have wonderful places to gather: our very own homes. Know what’s an enjoyable, fulfilling social experience? Hanging out with your good buds in the calm of someone’s living room. You can control the music (music videos?), the booze is cheaper, and you can hear each other. You are free to smoke the devil’s leaf. Nobody is annoying you—unless someone is, in which case you may be forced to begin plotting ways to not hang out with that person anymore, but that’s what keeps friend circles fresh and exciting. Your women friends will hopefully have a lesser chance of encountering men they don’t want to be around. In New York, many people have access to roofs and backyards. I see no reason why I should ever be asked to congregate somewhere else.

Now, you might say: Well, the real reason I go to bars is because I’m an alcoholic. I’m sorry but I can’t help you with that. You may also say: I go to bars so I can find someone to fuck. To that I respond: Gay people don’t have to worry about that as much because we have more sex generally and have apps for fucking. And anyway, gay bars are bad too but in different ways.

I have found being in my late-20s to be full of tension and angst. Life’s realities have never been more apparent. I’m almost 30. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Is there even an end in sight? The one thing I know I have to look forward to is that eventually I will age to the point that nobody will ask me to go hang out at a bar. Will I be dead? Wouldn’t I rather be???

One of the greatest things about becoming an adult is realizing that, despite what you’ve been led to believe, most things are bad. Parties, hangouts, “chill seshes”—each one worse than the last and far inferior to sitting on a couch in a cocoon of your own filth. You know that now. And thanks to this one, easy trick, you can always choose the latter without making everyone hate you in the process (probably).

The key to a happy life of rude indifference and flaking on everyone you know is this: Never make plans in the first place.

Do you want to hang out on Friday? Oh, that sounds great. I might have to do this other thing, though. Let me get back to you.

Want to meet us for drinks later? Yes, definitely! Assuming I can get out of this vague and complicated thing I said I’d do.

Want to buy tickets to go on a two-week vacation six months from now? Absolutely the fuck not.

In most cases, you can leave the possibility of saying yes open without inconveniencing the other party too much. That way, as the time draws closer, you’re free to decide at the last minute whether or not you actually want to seal the deal. And if someone asks you to do something that absolutely requires advance planning, if you’re like me, odds are you’re eventually going to hate yourself for saying yes. So instead, just say no.

Are you going to miss out on exciting opportunities that could help you grow as person? Ehhh, whatever. Every party, hangout, and chill-sesh is exactly the same, and the next one will be exactly like the one you have decided to flake on. Are some of your friends going to get annoyed that you refuse to make concrete plans? Yes, almost certainly. But life’s too short to worry about that.

Friend, I suggest that you do what makes you happy. Do nothing.

Ashley Feinberg is Gawker Media’s thirstiest blogger.

This is Gawker Media’s last week as an independent media operation, and while that shouldn’t affect you much one way or the other as a reader, we’re still going to take advantage of a pretext to run some especially fun and stupid posts. If you have any ideas for such posts, hit us at tips@deadspin.com.

You’ve found your pillow partner. Your forever friend. The person you want to share a Hyundai with for the rest of your life. Why not make the ceremony that joins you in an unbreakable flesh bond somewhat memorable and good?

Consider this: bagpipes.

Bagpipes were invented in Scotland or Ireland maybe and, as I understand it, they are made by shoving a few clarinets down the throat of a sheep. You strap the sheep to your body and you squeeze it and the sheep’s screams become eerie tunes after traveling up the nest of clarinets lodged in its throat.

The interesting thing about bagpipes is that nobody has ever thought to use these wonderful sheep horns as a part of their wedding. Think of what people will say when the lovely bride walks down the aisle to what sounds a lot like sheep being massacred. Think of how your uncle Angus, who you think is very Scottish, will feel when his ancestral music fills the marriage hall and vibrates the rafters. Be sure to call the local paper, because they will want to get a load of this rare and brand new trend.

If you’re not Scottish, don’t worry. Just pretend you are, or maybe your mother is a little Scottish from her dad’s dad. Say something like, yeah they came over from a small town in the high country and then just walk away. If they follow you, make up a city, something like Kilgarry or Stonehaven.

If your partner protests about the presence of bagpipes, that’s ok. Be sure to order a full squad of bagpipe professionals before you bring the idea up so that when your partner tries to argue against it you can say that you thought it would be really special and that you already ordered a full squad and that you did it for him/her. Once they’ve collapsed from guilt, you will have your bagpipe squad.

One common mistake people make when they introduce bagpipes at a wedding is to not use the bagpipes enough. Ask the squad to play throughout the ceremony. Ask the squad to follow you into your limo and serenade you and the wedding party. During your reception, find a way to rotate your bagpipe squad so that there is always at least one bagpipe piping its nightmare screams into the air.

Remember, your wedding is a special day. It’s not a day reserved just for the bride or the bottom, depending on your arrangement. It’s your day too. Make it unique. Do something totally different—something like bagpipes, which have never been done before in a wedding setting.

The Cuck is Gawker’s pop-up, bespoke men’s interest site.

Rule 34 is a foundational principle of the internet. The idea is simple: if something exists, porn of that something must also exist.

Steve Wozniak exists. Alexis Ohanian and Jack Ma exist. Tom Anderson, Larry Page, Evan Spiegel, and Peter Thiel likewise exist. And yet, there is no smut of them I could find—though there’s no shortage of tweets demanding it be made. Despite a porno-ready name like “Musk” the only saucy content of SpaceX’s founder out there is a genderbent alternate universe where (s)he is seeking psychiatric help. Not the sort of stuff that’s likely to disrupt libidos.

In honor of Senior Week, I set out to find what erotic tech guy fanfiction did exist. There wasn’t much, but what turned up did not disappoint. Below are some choice excerpts with links back to the full masterpieces.

The Tastiest Apple

A short vignette in which Steve Jobs bones Siri. Or an iPhone which Siri embodies. The physical aspect is clearly an afterthought.

She felt her headphone jack being exposed, and was tempted to do a quick change of settings, and switch to the British male voice that Steve didn’t know, so as to scare him away... Steve started by whacking his penis on the screen of the iPhone. He was excited of the things to come, like him.

The Daddy Pact

A married David Karp contemplates a more fulfilling relationship with Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg.

“What’s up?” continued Mark. He just continued to smile, well…until he glanced down at David’s belt area. There he saw it – the eleven inches that was his erect dong.

So Goddamn Nervous

The Winkelvoss twins and a woman—who, as far as I know, is not meant to represent any particular technologist plutocrat—engage in a threesome.

Tyler rubs a hand over Cameron’s back, pushes them in again, fingers stuttering when he finds the spot, an endless loop there and there and there, perfect, each twist a bracing shock to his body.

Amazon to Monetize Fan Fiction, He Moaned

Well, this one is a jab at Kindle Worlds, but it still involves Jeff Bezos getting doinked by some guy from The Vampire Diaries.

“We’re also not allowing anything we deem pornography. Or ‘offensive depictions of graphic sexual acts.’”

“Well, then, Jeff, we’ll just have to be sure not to do anything ‘offensive’, won’t we?” Damon’s muscles were like iron as he pushed Jeff softly down onto the plush lounge chaise.

Regrets

A haggard, out-of-work Barney the Dinosaur befriends and is then taken advantage of by Mark Zuckerberg. He somehow becomes pregnant and gives birth to the Facebook privacy settings dinosaur.

What happened next was somewhat of a blur, between having more booze, playing pool, eating foods that were unknown to the alien (some for the better), and eventually soaking in the tycoon’s steaming hot tub... Then his consciousness faded. And when his consciousness returned, he had a pounding in his head. Wait, no...he had a pounding in more than just his head. He flung his eyes open to find the shadowy figure of Mark, the man he trusted, violently thrusting into him.

Untitled

Steve Jobs kidnapped Bill Gates some time ago and has forced him into sexual slavery which blossoms into a Stockholm Syndrome romance. Most of the dialogue is the word “yes.”

He turned out the light when he left. Bill was left with nothing to see. Nothing to hear but his own breath. Nothing to taste but the last drops of Steve in his mouth. Nothing to feel but the cuffs on his wrists and the air across his skin.

If you’ve seen (or written) any erotic fanfics involving, say, Sergei Brin in a tumultuous love affair with Steve Ballmer or Palmer Luckey building Oculus to date Rei from Neon Genesis Evangelion, please send it our way.

Last August, some SpongeBob SquarePants fans caught wind of the existence of a strange bootleg film about their favorite talking rectangle, only the vaguest traces of which could be found online, and began an obsessive search for the movie. Now, one year later, it has been revealed that A Day With SpongeBob SquarePants: The Movie never existed in the first place.

http://internet.gawker.com/the-internets-…

When I first wrote about ADWSS, as it is known to its fans, it was November 2015, after I’d stumbled on a thread on a website called Lost Media Wiki, where users discuss movies and other ephemera that existed at one point, but are now impossible or extremely difficult to find. Even for this crowd, ADWSS was a special conundrum: there was a sold-out Amazon listing (complete with customer reviews), entries on the websites of two independent film distribution companies, and some promotional images and videos whose authenticity was impossible to verify. The further you dug into the collected ADWSS evidence, the sketchier it seemed: quotes on the DVD covers came from film critics that didn’t exist, writing for outlets that didn’t exist either; the excited boy shown jumping on the cover was a stock image model, the photo the first Google Images result for the phrase “excited boy jumping.”

Despite the scant trail, a community of fans sprung up around ADWSS, attracted by the mystery and the promise of finding some Tim & Eric-style late-night stoner kitsch, hunting for the film and creating imaginary scenes and theme songs and uploading them to YouTube. “I’ve had a lot of strange people contact me lately,” Jason Boritz, a filmmaker whose web presence vaguely connected him to ADWSS told me at the time. “I’ve had to block a lot of people on social media.”

I, too, got caught up in the search for a while, but lost interest after hitting a few brick walls. The true believers never stopped looking, however, and this month, they reached what seems to be the end of their search. On August 3, an ADWSS hunter who goes by Bedhead Bernie uploaded the following video to YouTube. It contains audio of an interview with a man who identifies himself only as “Mr. Orange,” because he fears he’d face the same nagging questioning from fans that befell Boritz if he were to reveal his real name. In the interview, Mr. Orange credibly lays claim to being the creator of the mysterious movie.

You can listen to the whole thing if you want to—it’s a little long-winded—but the gist of it is pretty banal. Mr. Orange had an idea for a SpongeBob parody film, but couldn’t finance it, and was worried that he’d be sued by Viacom for copyright infringement. Still, he wrote a script and shopped it around a bit, and Reagal Films—a small film distribution company that lists ADWSS on its website—agreed to publish some promotional materials for the film online to gauge interest from viewers. The Amazon listing, he said, was used strictly to test whether anyone was interested in pre-ordering ADWSS. The DVD cover, with its fake critic quotes, was a placeholder that he used for pitching financial backers.

Mr. Orange says in the interview that he conceived of ADWSS as a Curb Your Enthusiasm-style take on SpongeBob, in which he is revealed as a real person with a life outside the TV show in which he stars. Another YouTube video, published this month on a channel called Ongoing Mysteries, reveals the first several pages of Mr. Orange’s script, which center on SpongeBob’s friendship with a boy named Andy (good name):

The script, frankly, does not seem like it would make a very good film, but then again, the jankiness was the whole appeal of ADWSS in the first place. It is a happy occasion for those of us who invested energy into finding ADWSS, but also a sad one. It was pretty apparent from the beginning that the film as such probably didn’t exist, but not that its origin story would be so unsatisfying and normal. For every one of the ADWSS hunters’ wackiest conspiracy theories about the film—that its marketing was a money laundering scheme, that Reagal was a front for a prostitution ring—Mr. Orange provides a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Mr. Orange also says that thanks to the enthusiasm for ADWSS that the search ginned up, he plans to crowdfund a new production of the film based on his original script. So we have that to look forward to.

At the end of the popular film Titanic (1997), Rose, the film’s protagonist, now an elderly woman, throws an expensive necklace into the ocean and then goes to bed to (apparently) die.

As she drifts off, in her bunk in her cabin on board a Russian research vessel, a cabin that is decorated with a lot of photos of herself seemingly arranged in chronological order, her psyche travels down to the deepest depths of the ocean, through the decaying wreckage of the RMS Titanic, the famous sunken ocean liner, on which a younger Rose was a passenger. As her soul inhabits the wreck, the Titanic is restored to its original condition—and Rose is now apparently doomed to spend an eternity trapped on this cursed ship, along with, seemingly, every other soul who died aboard that ship or in the icy water into which it sank.

Rose is in hell. This is obvious and inarguable. The reanimated ship, the scene of the worst tragedy she ever witnessed, is now her permanent mental prison, both inhabited and guarded by the souls of those she saw perish decades ago—those whose deaths she, honestly, did nothing to help prevent.

In death, it turns out, Rose did not escape the Titanic after all.