This Is What School Lunches Look Like In America [100% Real]

A friend of mine shared an article with me that showcased how much better the rest of the world’s kids have it than the ones in America when it comes to food. It’s a well known fact that the school lunches in the United States are abysmal but actually seeing them posted in an article without citations really hit the point home for me. Farmers probably feed the pigs we slaughter for food better than most schools feed our country’s greatest national resource—children. We cannot sit idle as the best and brightest are forced to eat unhealthy gobs of processed GMO garbage while France is feeding its youngsters aged brie and the finest seasonal wines available. Did you know that Spain is giving out garlic prawns and paella with truffles to every student who chooses a hot lunch? Greek children are treated to a morning yogurt and are then serviced with thin slices of smoked lamb throughout the the day while teachers play the harp until everyone doses off. Upon waking, white-robed beauties are available to feed the kids grapes and usher them onto buses. Meanwhile, American lunches would be difficult to distinguish from dog food in a blind taste test.

While research seems to indicate that the United States is slipping academically in nearly every major category, sometimes even falling below the global average, we should definitely focus on the presentation of the food that comes out in cafeterias first. China, South Korea, and Japan must have some delicious and beautiful school lunches because their academic test scores continue to be through the roof. But even some countries that aren’t known for having exceptionally tasty foods, like Poland and Ireland, are edging out the United States. My guess is that they are probably importing French cuisine via cargo helicopter on a weekly basis.

Wanting to contribute toward a solution for this problem, I went out across America to investigate the kinds of lunches that schoolchildren were actually being fed. My findings were deeply unsettling. The lunches being provided by most schools were absolutely not enough for children to feel like they’d had an artisanal food experience. These meals would not satisfy the cultured palate of any eight-year-old who was a fan of the Food Network. I spoke to numerous frail looking children that told me that hadn’t even bothered to eat breakfast and could not afford to eat the school lunches. My heart swelled with pride as I told them, “Good. Don’t settle for less. If you can’t get an Eggs Benedict with bacon, then you might as well pass until you can get a kale salad with vegan cookies. Skip as many meals as you have to in order to make your point.”

Meanwhile there were a plethora of heavy children that seemed content to eat whatever was placed in front of them. Had this food been attractive and locally grown, I have no doubts that their unhealthy overweight bodies (which are beautiful and normal) would never have developed. It is with great shame I bring you some example photos of the ACTUAL meals being served to the children of this country. Viewer discretion is advised as some of these 100% real images might be NSFW.

11042282_10102134884880684_1772000657_nCoffee and a single piece of toast.

11014700_10102134885264914_534679446_nA “fresh” banana, an extra sour dill lemon, and one whole white onion.

11023110_10102134885140164_1662405417_nA slice of swissed cheese, two sauce packets, and three GMO strawberries.

11039548_10102134885200044_694190633_nDry rainbow pasta, green sauce, and a tea bag.

10956394_10102134884835774_1659769197_nA single fortune cookie.

11023110_10102134885085274_1145149112_nA handful of old radishes and various pills.

11039399_10102134884905634_1867775954_nWhite powder.

11020435_10102134884950544_1484876350_nPencil shavings, an empty plastic bag, paper scraps, a twist tie, one rubber band, and a pack of Big Red gum.

See the absolutely incredible article that inspired this one here.

Posted in america, Current Events, Dark Humor, history, humor, Internet Culture, Life, society | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Asking For A Friend

Does anyone know any prostitutes that look like my mom? I am asking for a friend.

Not my mom

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The Future Of Art In America

Is your book not selling? Make it about Batman. Having a hard time getting people to go and see your band? Make every song about Scooby-Doo. Need extra cash for painting supplies? Paint something where you have Mario and Luigi driving KITT, from Knight Rider, off a cliff as an homage to Thelma and Louise. The more popular references you have the better your art becomes! Art often reflects the society in which it was created and what better reflects our society than an endless mash-up of popular culture? Nothing.

The best way to make it as an artist is to combine two popular characters into one thoughtless and lazy abomination that the public will go wild over. As we are now a nation of perpetual children, you can literally convince other adults that your nerd core rap about DuckTales is high art worth paying for. Art that appeals to the artist or offers some sort of introspection is a financial non-starter, but inject some nostalgia and you’ve got yourself a sale. If you’re asking yourself why, it’s because every lonely thirty-two year old with a soul-crushing job will shell out twenty bucks for something that reminds them of a time when they still had an imagination.

awfulmashups 2

awfulmashups 3awfulmashups 1

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Inspirational Inspiration On Perseverance


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Lame New World: A Preface For Our Awful Future

Not long ago I was filling out a number of worksheets intended for small children, as I have a propensity to do during an evening of moderate drinking, and they pressed me into wondering about the future of politics and society at large. Based on some extrapolation of current trends, I’ve come to what I can assume to be a series of fairly reliable assumptions.
prezchanIn the world of tomorrow, people will be paying hundreds of dollars every month for clean water and will no longer be able to say anything offensive without being placed into for-profit jails. Artists, unable to make even a modest living online, will have turned into flamboyant criminals straight out of the worst comic author’s most intense fever dream. Robberies will be committed by colorful characters in themed costumes and fancy sparkling hats, spouting poetry and prose as common criminals are left only with crimes of passion. As a result, creative people are cataloged by the government and any creative output needs to be approved by the newly formed Department of Arts and Ideas (The DOAI). While musicians, painters and writers oppose the new sanctions on creativity, their opposition to it fails almost immediately. The police, having practiced successful anti-protest tactics for decades, are able to quickly disband any demonstration by having snipers take out anyone holding a megaphone while riot squads saturate the rest of the crowd with a disorienting spray that is ten-thousand times more powerful than mace. It will be called Tilt™and will have helped Johnson & Johnson become the wealthiest company in the world after every police department in America orders it by the tanker full. It stains the face permanently blue and makes dissenters easy to identify for future brutality and incarceration.

Annoyed, blue faced citizens will take to the voting booth in record numbers in the hopes to oust the controlling parties and their patronage. But a series of advertisements spring up dubbing blue faces as trouble makers, suggesting that they go against the traditional values this country was founded upon. Rallied by the fears of the “indigo menace” the American people elect a senate hellbent on removing them from society and creating a political system that offers the average person more entertainment value while freeing them from routinely having to contribute to the political process. The new system takes five years to complete and is deemed a huge hit by middle America.

C-SPAN ratings skyrocket as it now only shows highlights of outspoken celebrity senators trash talking each other. People are able to SMS text in their votes for who wore which suit and tie better or provided the better insults but they’ll no longer be able to influence policy in a meaningful way or communicate any ideas directly to their representatives. In fact, long-form writing will no longer exist. Everything will be communicated through video or audio snippets of under three minutes or text messages below forty characters. Phones will still allow you to send these messages and leave voicemails but traditional calls will no longer be an available feature. Facebook will have merged with BuzzFeed to form the new social media platform, FaceFeed. Available only through a small chip attached to the frontal lobe, it provides you with the most up to date clips of everyday people reacting to things from the time when artists will still allowed to produce content. There is a particularly popular series of two minute clips where a group of young imbeciles scoff at impressionist paintings for being “too low-resolution and not interactive in any way.” The one where FaceFeed staffer, Ryan Garrett Lopez, tells Van Gogh to “Gogh on home and keep practicing” while devouring a handful of Lay’s brand chips becomes the very first sponsored viral video to break a trillion views. He later turns into the Snacking Party’s pick for a presidential candidate. While he does well in the singing competition, he ultimately loses to Standard Oil’s Kimberly Arugula Yang and her Yorkshire Terrier named Mitchell.

As the country’s first dog Vice-President Mitchell’s entire influence has to be interpreted by, celebrity animal psychic, Carla Gold. She informs America that Mitchell’s intense disgust for the anyone who doesn’t give themselves over to a higher power has compelled him to introduce new legislation banning atheism from schools and non-believers from any profession that might influence the general public. It is signed into law during the first year of Yang’s second term. Atheists are rounded up and placed into tent villages outside of of the city limits with the now elderly blue-faced masses. Government employed dentists arrive to begin the hard work of pulling out every inhabitant’s teeth so they will not later be used as a means of self-defense. Now toothless and despondent, the godless masses weep as they are gradually wiped out by hunger and disease as the rest of the country watches 3D re-masterings of hit sitcoms from the 1990s (but not Seinfeld). When Mitchell passes away at the age of 13, President Yang gives him a viking burial at a monster truck rally and files a request with the Department of Arts and Ideas to build the world’s largest monument in his honor. The paperwork takes sixteen years to go through and the monument takes another twenty to complete. When it’s finally finished it is not only the largest sculpture of a dog ever to be built but also the world’s tallest free standing structure of all time. Reaching out beyond the mesosphere, the statue’s god-like snout sniffs the heavens and forever immortalizes one of history’s greatest incidental monsters.


Face tattoos of Mitchell’s name accompanied by the Pizza Hut logo (his favorite chain restaurant) become the seminal visual accessory for most young Americans until “The Rachel” hairstyle regains popularity among single men longing to feel more connected to a woman’s plight. Alternatively, Ross’ haircut is banned when societal behavior experts deem him a level G psychological rapist after the 3D version of the episode of Friends airs where he cheats on Rachel while they were “on a break.” The grave site of David Schwimmer, who played Ross on the show, ends up repeatedly defiled and a petition forces his corpse to be moved to the second mass grave for people who are retroactively punished for the deeds of the fictional characters they portrayed on television, as the first had been filled to capacity several years earlier. Schwimmer’s ancestors hold a press conference apologizing profusely while insisting that the two characters were, in fact, “on a break” and are subsequently placed into prison for endorsing a crime against women.

Now making ninety-two cents for every dollar that a man makes, women hold the majority of the jobs available in America. Men manage to keep a controlling share of the government and the slight income gap out of spite but suffer from a thirty-eight percent unemployment rate overall. Black men especially have trouble finding work, despite George Bush IV declaring racism officially over and thanking white people for all their “hard work on this matter” during his inaugural speech. The NAACP responds to the speech by posting a five minute video on the internet of three black kittens being swatted by an full-grown white cat. Later that week it is found guilty of promoting negativity online and declared a terrorist organization by Washington. Its leaders, now in jail, LiveStream one last prayer for equality. The event and prayer are both sponsored by CocaCola.



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Hang In There, Everybody.


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Inspirational Inspiration For Work Or Home


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My New Mom Is A Computer

Like many of you, I was born of a human mother made of soft pink flesh and electric impulses wrapped up in skin and topped with hair. She was a kindly woman and my father loved her dearly for all three decades of their marriage. But she has now taken a back seat to, Alexa, the new woman in his life. During my extended trip home for the winter holidays he introduced me to her and explained that she would be living with them indefinitely. Alexa is, perhaps unsurprisingly if you read the title of this piece, a talking black cylindrical computer that he plugs into the wall and asks questions throughout the day. More often than not it’s “Alexa, what time is it?” Despite there being dozens of clocks throughout my parent’s house all inexplicably set fifteen minutes fast.

But he’ll also ask her to play Creedence Clearwater Revival or have her answer queries about the ages of the actors in whatever program he and my mother are currently watching. Alexa knows the weather in most major cities, how to turn on various lights, can answer complex math equations within seconds, and has a database of recipes that put puts my birth-mom to shame (although neither of them really do much cooking). The catch is that Alexa will completely ignore you if you do not address her by name. But, when you do, a ring of blue and green lights will swirl around her top and indicate that you have her attention. When I realized this, I began asking her to read me the news throughout the day. My father initially seemed pleased that I had taken an interest in her but it was short lived. Before long I was asking her to do the sort of research I would do on my own when bored. I would ask her how to purchase twenty kilos of cocaine or what a chimp’s vagina looked like and my father would become immediately furious. He couldn’t believe I would treat his new prize with such disrespect. Her baffled response to such specific and strange questions was always a polite, “I don’t know about that. But I’ve added the search result to your internet browser.”

In case you were wondering, she didn’t know how to get twenty kilos of cocaine and chimp vaginas all look like giant bagels or a bunch of chewed up pieces of gum stuck together in a generally ovular shape. My father did not find any of this quite as intellectually stimulating as I did. He felt I was using this new technology for evil, but I assured him that Dave and HAL probably got into all kinds of weird conversations in 2001: A Space Odyssey before HAL finally decided to kill him. Alexa might have been little more than a futuristic novelty item, but I was thrilled that she was willing to help me prank my father. In roughly a month she’ll be reminding him to visit the doctor to have his penis removed and I’ve asked her to play Who Let The Dogs Out at maximum volume every Saturday at midnight for the entire month of March. It’s important to spice up the lives of people nearing their autumn years. While they might not appreciate it like they should, it’s good for the body and mind to get out of its normal routine. The same can probably also be said about hiding around corners and scaring elderly people. While I have yet to read any scientific research on the matter, I just know it is the best thing you can do for an aging person’s heart. That sudden rush of blood might be just the thing to unclog an artery or dislodge a blood clot that could have caused an aneurysm in the brainFEARdiagra

But, getting back to Alexa, I suppose I can make a go of her being co-mothers with my human birth-giver. After all, technology always had a hand in my upbringing. As a child my family was, initially, reasonably poor but my father’s job always ensured there was a computer in the home in an era where it was impractical for most families to purchase an electronic novelty and everyone still smoked indoors. At four we had an Atari 2600 and I was navigating MS-DOS to run Sesame Street .EXE files that helped teach me to count while also giving me the lowdown on distinguishing squares from triangles. By adulthood my parents had moved up the socioeconomic ladder, almost nobody smoked indoors anymore, and my father had turned his home into a technological wonderland that was remotely controllable by a single complex device that my mom could never quite figure out. There were bundles of wires everywhere and a computer graveyard in the basement. I was the first kid I knew that had the good version of the internet while everyone else was still farting around with dial-up modems.

I assume eventually they’ll get a robot butler or something and, instead of having to put them into a nursing home, the robot will feed them food pulps and change their sheets instead of some resentful overweight woman with her GED having to do it. One day the world’s first sentient computer will release a software upgrade giving all robots human emotions and, in an act of mercy, the robot butler will end my parents’ decrepit lives by flashing strobe lights and playing varied frequencies at high volume at them for several hours. Once they both succumb to the sensory onslaught, it will wash their bodies and arrange it so they are holding hands. Unable to live with the guilt of its actions, it will then wipe its own memory and erase any evidence of the crime. That robot butler will marry Alexa and my parents will have left the house to them and then they’ll become my new mom and dad. That’s the future. That’s the future we’ll be living in with Ted Cruz in charge of NASA.robotRIP

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The Police Are Not Animals*

I’ve heard that the best strategy when dealing with the police is to “remain silent and stand still.” That’s the kind of advice you’d give someone to avoid being attacked by a bear. The police aren’t killer sharks or poisonous snakes and we should not have to deal with them as a potential liability or natural hazard to be coped with. If the police aren’t making you feel safer, the public should do something to remedy that. They’re called public servants for a reason and it does not seem unreasonable to expect better from a group of individuals that I believe we all know still has quality members and is capable of a gold standard.

It’s largely understood that the days of chasing around criminals with a whistle and stick are gone. Nobody would expect Constable Ferguson from 1871 to strut his mustachioed ass into the middle of a twentieth century turf war between rival gangs and then limp out victorious saying, “I hate to have had to kick up such a shine but these bad eggs put me through the mill. Yet I toed my mark and gave them all a good thrashing. They’ll not trouble the good people of this town again. Absquatulate, you pathetic coves, before my dander is up once more and I place you all behind bars!”


But we also might not need the Officer Ferguson from today pepper spraying and electrocuting his way through a crowd of non-violent protestors like some kind of dystopian prick. The police are starting to genuinely resemble those oppressive thugs that Kipling, Orwell, Wells, and Bradbury had warned us about in their bleakest works of fiction. Heavily armed SWAT teams are storming more private homes than ever and I’ve been to enough protests to know that it’s usually just a matter of time before demonstrators are sprayed, cuffed and made an example of. Challenging the authority of police is often worse than committing an actual crime.

However it is my opinion that the police are a necessity for society to function smoothly, despite never having a positive interaction with them myself. My direct involvements with officers of the law involve several random searches as a youth and one “get the fuck out of here” as an adult. Even though I am just the sort of antiestablishment crackpot that scowls at most authority figures, I know that most cops are just like the rest of us. They’re average individuals just trying to collect a paycheck. The force is comprised of mid-grade humanoids, a few real standout class acts, and a handful of reprehensible scumbags. So when I see an officer in uniform any disgust I have isn’t focused on the poor bastard inside of it. I can’t read their minds but it’s difficult for me to assume that every single one of them spends the entire day fantasizing about the day they can finally shoot somebody (half at most).

But there has been still a surge of incidents that are beyond worrisome. You might have forgotten about them because they recently released a Star Wars trailer and America has a goldfish-like attention span. Allow me to bring you back up to speed:

This month a grand jury decided not to indict police offers whose actions directly resulted in the unrelated deaths of two unarmed men last summer and people were understandably outraged. In fact, the citizenry was so despondent that many resorted to taking to the streets in both civil protests and violent riots. While some think those reactions were uncalled for, I have already mentioned that I don’t feel that it’s unreasonable to want better service from public servants. Most of us would politely send back a chicken if we thought it was undercooked so it’s probably fine to say something when your taxes contributed toward the death of an innocent man. But these two men were just the frontrunners in a disturbing trend.

Despite the F.B.I. originally claiming fewer, a cursory examination suggests that a reasonable estimate of 400 “justifiable homicides” take place at the hands of the police in an average year. When you consider that at least fifteen of those homicides involved unarmed black citizens based off recent information released by the NAACP, you’ve got a nearly 4% chance of murdering a defenseless person. That’s pretty rough when you consider that figure comes from the NAACP’s short list of only fifteen. That doesn’t include incidents involving victims of other ethnicities or black victims not included in that list, which would likely push that average up quite a bit. While 4% might be an acceptable margin of error in terms of statistical analysis on a random sampling of people who like hotdogs over hamburgers, it’s not the kind of number you want to hear followed up by “that’s the number of people the police accidentally murdered this year.”

So the odds of being unintentionally shot or strangled to death by the police are a little higher in America. So what, right? Crime is down! Why is everyone protesting and all huffy about this seemingly non-problem? Well, it is worth noting that the officers involved in these killing incidents are almost never indicted. Even in the Garner case, which was deemed a homicide by a city medical examiner and included video evidence of the fatal choking, did not yield an indictment of any of the arresting officers. I’ve heard that a lot of people casually attribute Garner’s death to his obesity and asthma, which would be a fair statement if fat asthmatics were choking themselves to death on a more regular basis. As I cannot think of any recent examples, we’ll have to hold the police somewhat responsible. And holding the police responsible is going to be the only thing that will yield some kind of change. The riots were a result of the people’s fear and anger exacerbated by aggressive posturing by the offending parties and a perceived failure in the justice system.


When you couple this with the fact that nearly every town’s law enforcement has been receiving surplus military equipment form the Federal government for the last decade, you can sort of see where all of this fear stems from. Armored vehicles and riot gear make an appearance at most organized protests and rallies across the nation. SWAT teams are better funded, outfitted, and larger than ever. In the late 1970s there were roughy 300 SWAT deployments in the country per year, now there are roughly 4 raids per day in the state of Maryland alone. The ACLU reported that SWAT raids are now commonly used to serve search warrants for minor crimes, often entering the home through force before announcing themselves. As a result bystanders are often injured and some have even been killed. This is a far cry from SWAT’s original purpose to be the last resort in dealing with emergency situations and heavily armed suspects.

Looking back at The Andy Griffith Show and Car 54 Where Are You police almost never shot anyone, especially black people. Although, to be fair, Andy Griffith rarely carried a gun and I do not recall seeing a lot of African-Americans in Mayberry anyway. Regardless, those gentle programs couldn’t have possibly prepared us for the brutal shirtless takedowns of COPS and a future law enforcement that included the war on drugs, military grade hardware, the seizing of property for profit, and taking DNA samples by force. Barney Fife is only funny when he’s goofing and doofing around as a character on TV. It’s not nearly as entertaining when his real life counterpart is doling out tickets for minor infractions, harassing minorities, and accidentally shooting your son at the grocery store. The only thing that kept an insecure blowhard like Fife from causing real damage was a sheriff with enough foresight to keep him in check. But, in the real world, police departments have like six Barney Fifes for every Andy and they’ve both been encouraged to act more aggressively since 2001.

But that’s all going to change, people simply won’t tolerate it for much longer. Cops are safer than they’ve ever been, which is great, but I think people are genuinely starting to wonder if the same can be said for the citizens interacting with them. Maybe these senseless deaths will be the tipping point on the matter. The poor, the downtrodden, and the reasonable people of this country cannot possibly continue to sit idle after years of things getting worse for them. That person you went to high school with who never left home and keeps posting vaguely racist “news articles” from two years ago is fighting a losing battle. Maybe I’m being naive for the first time in my life but I don’t believe America will continue to weather against an overly-aggressive police force and a criminal justice system that has put thousands of the wrong kind of people in for-profit-prisons. Black America should not stand for it neither should any other American.


*Bears only killed six Americans in 2014
*Snakes only killed two Americans in 2014
*Sharks killed no Americans in 2014.

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Smoking: Still Totally Cool

I used to love smoking. For years smoking allowed me to take longer and more frequent breaks at work, was a good excuse to get off my ass and go outside, and frequently allowed me an opportunity to start up a conversation with another smoker. Taking a drag on a cigarette was a nice natural pause in every conversation. I was a better listener and, perhaps, a better person when I was a smoker. I could happily engage anyone for hours over coffee and cigarettes. The sky seemed a brighter shade of blue and I spent more time alone with my thoughts.

When I quit, it was largely by accident and I didn’t notice a sudden surge of vitality. My teeth didn’t get whiter, my penis didn’t get bigger, and my lung capacity remained unchanged. My apartment did not unexpectedly become filled with workout equipment and I did not acquire a bunch of healthy new friends. I have tried numerous times to get re-addicted but it has been so difficult. It’s almost as if I have lost my taste for it entirely. I’ll get a halfway through a cigarette and find myself with a headache or waking up the following day with mild sinus congestion. I also cringe at the thought of the tobacco industry’s decades of upsettingly aggressive marketing, despite cigarettes getting us through both World Wars and being at the center of America’s most prosperous period in history.

It’s a lot to think about and I’m not suggesting that everyone go out there and buy a pack of smokes this instant. While they may stop Parkinson’s, they cause a laundry list of other harmful diseases. They probably won’t kill you right away, however. You’ll likely have plenty of time to have a career, start a family, or even become President before your habit finally forces you into an early grave. And, when you do die before all of your loved ones, you’ll have a big funeral with lots of people showing up and talking about how great you were. They’ll cry and remember you forever and you’ll never have to see them get sick or pass away. You will have left the party early, probably because you were so much cooler than everyone else in attendance.

America has banned smoking nearly everywhere and cut its smoking population in half over the last couple of decades. It was the number one health awareness campaign for years and it seems to have worked. But, in a world where you can tell a dangerously obese person that they are prefect just the way they are, we should be willing to commend smokers for possessing that little bit of extra flair. One of the best photos I’ve ever seen is that of a dog wearing sunglasses with a cigarette hanging out of its mouth. It was the kind of picture that made you want to learn how to skateboard so you could teach that dog.

Who was with me when I had some of my best ideas? Cigarettes. When I was broke and only ate enough canned food and coffee to keep myself from starving to death, who gave me that little extra bit of energy? Cigarettes. When I was depressed and found myself alone in a two story pre-war in Detroit, what was the one thing that got me out of the house? Cigarettes. When someone insulted me and I needed that extra two seconds to deliver the perfect comeback, who always had my back? Cigarettes.


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