Two tipsy women sneak into a graveyard to pee. One uses her panties to wipe with and throws them away, the other one uses a ribbon from a wreath.
The next day, one husband calls the other:
“My wife came home last night not wearing any panties!”
The other husband replies:
“That’s nothing! My wife had a card stuck between her butt cheeks that said, ‘From all of us at the fire station, we’ll never forget you!’”
A quiet deadline is coming, and it does not negotiate. It will not pause for illness, grief, or the fact that someone has done everything right and…
His death was never meant to matter. It was supposed to vanish inside a headline, flattened into a sterile phrase that made everyone feel safe enough to…
They laughed because silence was worse. The joke was easy, the headlines addictive, the outrage convenient—yet under every punchline pulsed a deeper bruise. When a continent’s worth…
The sirens faded, but the questions didn’t. A city already tired of mourning now holds its breath, clinging to a single name that feels too personal to…
The question was small, but it split the day in half. One moment, balloons and frosting; the next, a crack in the world I thought I knew….
The calm is lying to us. Numbers fall, speeches soar, and everyone is desperate to believe the nightmare is over. But the relief feels thin, temporary, like…