backpack sales soar

Following the arrest of failed European-American (i.e. ‘white’) terrorist Michael Christopher Estes, who allegedly planted a homemade bomb at the Asheville Regional Airport in North Carolina on 6 October 2017, outdoor goods manufacturers are reporting that backpacks are flying off the shelves. “We are overjoyed that the bomb was removed before it harmed anybody,” said a spokesperson for REI, whose equipment was used by the alleged domestic terrorist. “Furthermore, we’re moving Traverse 70 packs like hot-cakes.”

Numbers are also up for the sellers of glass jars, fuel oil, nails, duct tape, and polymer spoons. Although it is often quick to condemn acts by brown-skinned individuals, the regime of fake president D.J. Trump has not issued a single comment or tweet regarding the allegedly terroristic acts and intentions of Michael Christopher Estes, whose skin is the color of an unripe peach.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

Grigovia urges calm

Following recent bellicose rhetoric coming from DPRK leader Kim Jong Un and US leader Donald J. Trump, the Parliament of the Glorious Republic of Grigovia released an unanimous statement urging calm. “Nuclear war is against the interests of all humanity,” said prime minister Dr. Frederikka Velldoyend, whose Freedom and Prosperity Party holds a slight majority of seats in the bicameral body. “America is the only nation in the world to have used nuclear weapons in anger; we beg for cool heads to now prevail.” (In Grigovia, the Senate is populated by ten persons selected by the governing body of each independent city-state and canton, and the Congress is selected via popular vote. Similar to the Swiss system, the Grigovian Parliament oversees and manages foreign policy, national defense, federal railways, and the mint.)

“War must only be used as a last resort, a strategy employed once all other options have been exhausted,” said national defense minister Hennda Uilyest of the Grigovian Conservative Green Party. “Diplomacy, cooperation, and open markets alone can assure the future prosperity of all mankind.” Shortly after gaining its independence from the Soviet Union, in 1988, Grigovia dismantled all nuclear weapons the Russians had stored on its soil and promptly joined the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICANW).

“Tinpot tyrants, be they Korean or Ynki, do not have permission to engage in nuclear war,” said Buiryest Darghennd, a 14-year-old student from Pryaghdoyest. “My grandparents fought against the Nazis in the Second World War; their words are still fresh in my mind: ‘Show not mercy, nor give quarter, to those who threaten innocent people with death and destruction.’”

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

on the banks of the mighty Yalung – a tourist's look at Grigovia

(This text was smuggled out of Grig at terrible cost and despite a U.S.-led embargo against this fine, upstanding nation. Please, enjoy.)

Come, friends, please come visit Grig, capital of Grigovia. Find love along the tree-lined banks of the serpentine Yalung River; learn to make the spice using fresh czabtyip and cool, clean water; infiltrate a band of roving Yaelong raiders and attempt to puzzle out their speech (if you succeed in deciphering any portion of their language, please share your learnings with MIIG, the Ministry of Internal Information Gathering); hunt the elusive yip-yipt-yend in the verdant Lower Yalung Valley; search for the source of the mighty Yalung River (again, if you succeed in finding the source, please share your learnings with MIIG).

All these things and more you can do in the not-too-big, not-too-small Glorious Republic of Grigovia. We urge you to act before the American capitalist swine invade us to steal our bauxite, and our other rare earth metals. (MIIG puts the likelihood of invasion at nineteen to one in favor of our swift and crushing military defeat.) Spend your hard-earned coins at any of our four modern casinos (all within a two hour train ride from Grig); hit the slopes with ski-mounted girl-bunnies at Yiptlong Mountain Resort, a three-star hotel and ascending-pulley located high up in the world-famous Yiptlong massif. Act now, before our landscape is littered with unexploded ordinance; visit now, before our roads, our fields, our villages, and our cities are sewn with land-mines and bombed into ruin; share, now, in our long and proud traditions before they are pulverized by the jack-boot of forced democratization.

Please come soon, because we need tourist money to improve our antiquated ground defenses (which, according to MIIG, have been rusting away in good order since we declared independence from the loathsome Soviet overlords back in 1992). Times have been tough – our terrain is too mountainous for Yankee to use as a re-fueling stop on his way to carpet-bomb Iraq and Afghanistan, and therefore we were not invited into his League of Righteous 9-11 Avengers (the few stinking capitalists we caught poking around amongst the Yaelong are locked safely away in Hramm prison, a lovely building located near the pulsing heart of cosmopolitan Grig, from which they cannot be sprung, not even by the Team of 6 Sea-Lions). Please come – for the romance, for the powdered slopes, for the chase, or just to watch the impending invasion unfold. There is little time to lose, and much joy to gain by visiting the lush hidden valleys and pristine highland plains of Grigovia, today.

場黑麥 ioanni elymucampus fecit

Like Irish car bombs? Try a 9-11 suicide high-jacker

In honor of the fathead who named the Irish car bomb, the Confederated Mixologists of America (coma.us.biz) announced today the newest drink to make light of a murderous reality. Just as the Irish car bomb ridicules the lives lost during the Troubles, this new drink ridicules the lives snuffed out on that sunny day in 2001. Entered in the books officially as the 9-11 suicide high-jacker, this liquid drug mixture requires of its user no personal sacrifice of any kind, nor does it reward her with even the semblance of dignity.

To make a 9-11 suicide high-jacker, mix two parts cinnamon fireball whiskey with one part baby's tears, and throw in a pinch of concrete dust. Hurl the mixture from the shattered window of a one-hundred-and-ten story building, and garnish with a battered box-cutter. Enjoy!

場黑麥 ioanni elymucampus fecit