Peasants from around the world want to know: “Who protects the US from abusive cops?”

Because they are used to living in lawless expanse, peasants in developing nations around the world appear to look down on America’s cop crisis with dimwitted superiority.

[Editor’s Note: Sometimes people go online and make shit up]

In their own words, the peon masses submitted their remarks to the Internet Chronicle to pose a timely rhetorical question. We read them, and interpreted them for you here.

  • a peasant in vietnam once asked me if we had a People’s army in the US, I said no, and she was like “what do you have” and I said “you would literally die if i told you”
  • a peasant in newsbekiztan once asked if we had a People’s Army in the United States. I said no, and she was confused because she’s a fucking peasant and I answered her in English
  • a peasant in Myanmar once asked me if we had military coups in the US. I said no, and she was confused because we facilitate coups around the world
  • a piece of bark floating on the surface of an artificial lake asked if we had a People’s Army in the US. I said no, and it got confused and asked, “then who protects you from abusive cops?” bark has no concept of public policy
  • a simple, pissant, subhuman peon asked if we had a People’s Army in the US. I said no, and she was confused because I projected nobility onto her blank, ignorant expression
  • Little haji in the desert once asked if we have a People’s Army in the US. I said uhhh no? He looked confused as to why I would be so snide toward a starving child with a distended belly. He said “then who protects you from racist cops?”

Peasants might not be educated like us, but they’re so wise!


Elon Musk dead at 49: Tragic suicide follows crypto crash

INTERNET — Fans and investors mourn the loss of Elon Musk, found dead in his Austin home following a massive crypto crash Sunday morning.

Musk, the CEO and founder of SpaceX and Tesla made headlines earlier this year after investing billions of dollars into bitcoin.

Musk is survived by his wife Grimes and his son X Æ A-12. Coroners reported he hung himself from the balcony of his mansion using a USB-C cable, still connected to an external hard drive filled with billions of now worthless cryptocoins.

Mary L. Hubbard, President and CEO of the Elon Musk Fan Club was completely devastated, telling reporters between fits of uncontrollable sobbing, “Now we’re never going to Mars. We’re never going to get off fossil fuels. Without Elon the whole world is doomed.”

However, Harvard Economist Dr. Angstrom H. Troubador said of the crash, “No one who lived through the dotcom boom should be surprised that this happened. Tech comes and goes at a very fast pace these days and as far as the crypto stuff goes, it’s really all speculation. The only people who would use such a convoluted method of transaction are doing it because they have already invested so much into it. For the common person there are only disadvantages to using bitcoin.”


Gmail migrates ‘hangouts’ functions to Google Voice

INTERNET — The geniuses at Alphabet megacorp have really fucked up this time, destroying their own gmail web site by migrating some of its only functions into a provably inferior website no one would ever want to use, Google Voice. This piece of shit web site allows users to view only one text message conversation at a time, makes no sound at all when messages are received, cannot embed links or videos, and frequently freezes the browser for minutes at a time.

Why would Google purposefully mangle their own web site, setting users back fifteen years? How could anyone even conceive of such a shitty web site? A roadkilled raccoon smeared across ten miles of highway could write better software. The dried piss caked underneath the lip of my toilet is more useful and has more features than Google Voice.

After the first time I was forced to use Google Voice, I shattered my PC case, ripped out the RAM containing that vile code, and after grinding it to pieces with my garbage disposal I washed it down the drain. Then, smelling the stink of shitty software all through the neighborhood, I had my septic tank emptied.

Inside Google’s boardroom the executives are exploring their ears and noses with screwdrivers as a crayon lunch is served to them on a silver platter by a chimpanzee in a butler suit. “Our decision is final!” the chairman screams, smearing Elmer’s on his tie and pissing himself. “I am the computer KING,” he announces, shattering open his smartphone. He takes a deep breath of the toxic flourine battery vapors just moments before an ignition which bursts open his chest, sending viscera across the room. The executives clap and dance, their shouts and laughs muffled by mouthfuls of crayon. “Google! Google! Google!”