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!’”
The numbers sound heroic. One shipment stopped, thousands of lives “saved,” a victory declared before cameras and flags. But behind the podium lights, files are redacted, Caribbean…
The world is holding its breath. A single courtroom has become a battlefield for the very idea of law itself. One man sits at the center, but…
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…