Lisle, IL

“Look mom! I’m simulating a pool party!”

“Look mom! I’m simulating a pool party!”

At the end of the school year last June, Lacy Webster asked her children what they wanted to do this summer. “Have fun!” they said. Webster laughed and said “Okay you silly geese, but HOW do you want to have fun?” “Sit inside and poke screens Mommy!” they responded.

And poke they did, all summer long. Webster attempted many times to get her children up off their butts but, in the words of Stacy Webster (12),” it’s harder to poke screens if i’m up off my butt. I would rather sit on my butt and poke a screen.” 

We asked Lacy Webster why she thought her children were behaving this way. “I mean they’re definitely smarter than me when I was their age because they teach themselves crazy things on these devices everyday, so I guess it’s not the worst thing. The other day I came back from my Yoga class and they had designed an APP. Like the kind that goes on your phone. That can get you a job! A real job!” said Webster.

While her initial response seemed to defend her children’s behavior, when we prompted her to discuss any potential negatives of this behavior in young people she also had quite a bit to say. “I mean look, obviously I worry about it. Throughout all of history pretty much, children haven't had the option to be absorbed by a lighted screen so of course I worry that we’ve all been doing it too much. I don’t want to sound like a crotchety old woman here but, isn’t there something pure and natural about kids getting dirty and running around?” stated Webster.

There’s only a few weeks left until summer comes to an end and Lacy Webster ships her children off to public school so the teachers have to deal with these sorts of things for half the day while she can finally go back to working full-time doing what she loves most… data analytics

Below is a projected family tree that shows what Stacy Webster’s (12) kids may look like.

Webster family tree.png

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Harold Washington Library

Chicago, IL

“Has Anyone Seen The Book I’m Looking For?”

“Has Anyone Seen The Book I’m Looking For?”

Sam Silver was born and raised on the near west side in Chicago, Illinois. She and her family have many fond memories of taking the “L” into the loop and setting up shop for the day at the famous Harold Washington Library. Now that Silver is about to ship off to The University of Miami in just a few weeks she asked her grandfather for one last hoorah. Besides Sam had to find this particular edition of “One Hundred Years Of Solitude” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez for introductory Spanish. This visit was different. On this visit grandpa Silver went missing.

One moment Silver was telling her grandfather to wait for her while she went to the restroom, the next, Silver was going full-on Judy Blume on his ass.

Unbenounced to his granddaughter, Earl Silver just so happened to run into an old college pal while young Sam was in the lavatory.  It wasn’t just any college buddy, it was Jim (the hustler) Bloom himself. You see back in the 70’s at The University of Cincinnati, Jim Bloom was notorious for going into the local pool halls and pulling the ole “Drake and Josh Season 2 Episode 5”. For those unfamiliar with this television classic, IMBD defines the episode as “Drake takes advantage of Josh's billiard skills by hustling local kids and swindling them out of their money.” 

So naturally these two swagmisters picked up right where they left off. Bloom and Grandpa Silver called all their old college buddies or, at least the ones that were still alive and turnt the fuck up!

Meanwhile, Sam Silver was coming up on a half hour of searching and she thought it may be time for a new approach. “If I wasn’t going to find them, I was going to let them find me. I mean how far could they have gotten?” 

Jim and Earl had catering delivered from Quiznos to the top floor… the restricted section. They got a lot of nos from their college buddies who now all live in Florida so they opted to go party patron recruiting throughout the library, everywhere but the second floor where Sam happend to make the decision to stay put and wait. 

A half hour turned into an hour and then to two and finally Sam decided to take action. 

“Would a Mr. Earl Silver please come to the second floor reception desk. Earl Silver to the second floor reception desk.” echoed the voice of the librarian through the PA system. 

Of course by this time the DJ had arrived to the impromptu rager in the restricted section and the announcement was washed out by an oddly catchy EDM Sinatra mashup. 

A minute turned into five and five quickly became fifteen. Sam was fed up with this. She spent the next hour scouring every nook and cranny of the nine story building. Out of breath and sweating rather noticeably Silver approached the top step where she plunked herself down. She let out a frustrated growl.

“You okay kid?” asked an old man who was peering out from a room with music blaring.

“Yah. Yah, I’m fine. You have any water?” asked Silver.

“Sure do. Come on in.”

Silver entered the room and there must have been forty absolutely hammered senior citizens going HAM. In the middle of it all was some old guy grinding up on some other old guy in front of a shelf that read Gabriel Garcia Marquez. She had found the book she was looking for. 

Silver then noticed the man grinding up on this dude was her grandpa Earl.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Akron, OH

Calling all OrangeMen of Ellet High! Please, consider this is the official decree that Jack Rowe, former nerd and pimple faced punk is officially cool this year! Why you ask… Because, Jack Rowe’s dad just upgraded his old car to a new 2019 Honda Ridgeline OOOOOHH!

Give Me An S! T! U! D! What’s That Spell? JACK!

Give Me An S! T! U! D! What’s That Spell? JACK!

But wait, why does that mean Lil Jack is going to be a cool kid this year? Well because this means someone inherits a bright red 2001 Honda Accord! Does anyone else smell sex on the horizon? Don’t just take it from us, have a look at what Principal Michelle Marquess-Kearns has to say on the topic…

“Now our Softball team won the state championship back in 1996. I was on that team. I have never been more excited for a series of events to unfold in Akron Ohio I heard the news that Lil Loser Jack Rowe was gonna get himself a sex-mobile.” stated Principal Michelle Marquess-Kearns.

The city of Akron is a buzz for the first day of school and bets are already being placed on how long it will take for Rowe to lose his virginity. I’ve got my money on pre-homecoming and to someone on the volleyball team! Dare I drop McKenzie Winter’s name as a possible suitor? 

Okay, okay, I’m giving into the gossip but I’m excited! Let’s shift gears and throw some data to back up my prediction. Below some cold hard DATA!

The Numbers Speak For Themselves!

The Numbers Speak For Themselves!

Also… like Ryan on the Cross-Country team was like so ugo before he had a car and now he hit puberty so like coincidence like no right?

Get yourself a car folks ;). And keep an eye out for Jack Rowe this year LAWL.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Hartford, CT

“She Knows… I’m Scum… And She Knows“

“She Knows… I’m Scum… And She Knows“

Phil McMan sat in the office of a well established insurance company hoping to score a high paying job with benefits this past Monday. McMan was eager, resume in hand when he was greeted by the woman who would be interviewing him. That’s when it hit him. McMan couldn’t get it out of his head. Phil McMan was absolutely convinced that this woman knew that he ate ass for the first time last night.

While there was no hard proof that the interviewer Rebecca Robinson knew anything of the ass eating, she did pick up on a few breadcrumbs as the interview progressed. Below is a transcript of the aforementioned interview.

Robinson: Thanks for coming in today, would you like anything to eat or drink?

McMan: Huh, what, eat? No. I don’t eat. Uh. I mean… I’m full. From food.

Robinson: Ummm okiedokie then. So we’ve looked over your resume and you seem like a good fit. You are a little young. Are you experienced enough for a managerial position?

McMan: Experienced? Position? Did you say venereal?

Robinson: Umm. No. I’m sorry do you need a moment?

McMan: No! No! I’m fine… I’m fine.

Robinson: Okay. Why don’t you ask me something about the company.

McMan: Okay! I can do that. Sure, no problem… What… are … the benefits yah that a good one. What types of benefits packages do offer?

Robinson: Good question.

McMan: You know insurance packages. Insurance benefits. This is an insurance company after all! Haha. 

Robinson: Riiiiight. Can I ask you something?

McMan: Suuuure?

Robinson: You mind getting your head out of your ass for this interview? I’m really behind on hiring and i need you to work out.

McMan: I’ve never eaten ass what do you mean?

Robinson:... What… do… you… mean.

McMan: Ummm I’d like to have a good explanation, but I don’t. I ate ass for the first time last night and I was nervous.

Robinson: You were nervous because you thought I knew you ate ass last night?

McMan: Yes…

Robinson: Why would you be nervous the insurance industry is full of brown-nosers!

Well folks, sometimes a story wraps up nicely and with a bow. We’re happy to announce that the Travelers Insurance Company found itself a new Media Marketing Manager and he goes by the name of Phil McMan. Around the office however, they just affectionately call him shitface.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Chicago, IL

Bobby House Pulling Off The Tube Socks Like A Champ.

Bobby House Pulling Off The Tube Socks Like A Champ.

Bobby House isn’t quite what the typical person would describe as a fashion aficionado. Most days he can be seen walking the streets of Chicago in a simple graphic tee, a breathable pant, and long white tube socks he bought in bulk. One might think, given the variables House opted to plug into the fashion equation, that the sum of women interested in him are close to nothing. 

This would be the case if…

Bobby wasn’t absolutely shredded and 14 inches tall.

You see a new study found that while traditionally knee high bleach white tube socks have been a huge turn off for women there are some body types that can pull it off.  Below is a diagram that takes a deeper dive into the numbers.


For the more number savvy the formula used to calculate what type of person can pull of white knee high tube socks is as follows ; Where S = Are the shredded and 14” = Are they 14” tall.

S + 14”= 👍

Now that we’ve discussed the quantitative side of this study lets dive deeper into the “why”. Let’s qualify this bad boy.

You see a knee high tube sock on a 14” tall man is like probably almost the same amount of fabric used to make a sensible no-show sock for normal sized people so like this is like probably why it’s cool.

 As far as the shredded portion goes… as much as society seems to chastise men for objectifying women the same standard doesn't seem to hold true when it comes to men being objectified by women. Of course this may be because the number of cases in which men sexually harass women far surpass the number cases where the roles are reversed.

Anyway, a huge kudos to Bobby House for being able to snag some tail and live out his lifelong dream of sporting long ass white tube socks on a daily basis.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Avon, CT


All good things must come to an end and Trish Patricia’s (13) amazing summer at sleep away camp is no different. You see while Patricia’s self-esteem was booming during her time in the woods engaging in real face to face conversation with a diverse group of children her own age she was in for a rude awakening upon her return home. 

In just the first half hour back in the nutmeg state (Connecticut) Patricia was greeted with a flurry of texts she had missed all summer that brought her back down to earth.


“Just because you made friends this summer doesn't change the fact that you were one of the last girls in our grade to get her period. LOL kidding LAWL c u soon bb.” wrote Becky Benson (13 ½)

FYI Trish, Riley Joyce gave me a handie at Blake’s 4th of July pool party thing you missed so like we’re together now.” scribed Brian Tanner (14).

“Ur tits still flat as fuk.” typed Brooke Smith.

In minutes all the hard work of the counselors, all the money paid by Patricia’s parents, and all the hope that was built up was flushed right down the drain. Reality struck and Trish Patricia fell back to the earth she knew all too well. She knew an earth of passive aggressive everything and authenticity honest nothing. 

To the right is a projected timeline until she leaves for camp next summer.

It should be noted we projected her to pick up “Julling”.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Mount Carmel, IL

Suzy Bishop Not Havin None Of This Shit.

Suzy Bishop Not Havin None Of This Shit.

The state of Illinois is often just referred to simply as Chicago by visitors. Alas, Chicago only makes up 234 of the 57,915 square miles in the great state of Illinois and some towns don’t lean so far left on the political spectrum as they do in the windy city. Mount Carmel is one of these towns and when your name is Suzy Bishop and you type “ isn’t so bad” and post it to your Facebook feed, you can expect some serious backlash from the pinochle playing community.

Suzy Bishop posted her feelings about the left-wing news outlet in a very public way Monday morning and in doing so, she sealed her own fate. You see the cool moms have a pinochle club held the second Monday of every month and they just recently starting inviting Bishop into their “inner circle”. What comes to you however, can go away in the blink of an eye or, in this case, a click of a button. 

It was Donna Salazar’s turn to play the role hostess this month and so when Bishop walked up Salazar’s marble steps Donna greeted her. The interaction between the two women was brief but loud. Below is an exact transcript of the conversation that we overheard from our headquarters in Chicago.

DS- Hi Suzy, Hi. I’m sorry you can’t be here.

SB- What?

DS- So pretty much all the women in the club think you’re like one of those man-hating feminists that want to steal our babies because you typed “ isn’t so bad” on Facebook and now no one knows what the fuck you are anymore. I mean we hide under the shield of the term “moderate” so we can kinda seem like we’re better than everyone we talk to that decided to choose a side and have an opinion. Haha ya, so you’re gonna have to gooooooo oaakkyyyy!


So Suzy has no friends and the friends that kinda agree with her are too afraid to be excommunicated to stand up for Suzy because then they would have to face the reality of being alone with a menial job living in Mount Carmel, Illinois. 

Suzy hopes to be able to engage her community in discussion moving forward but, she also just downloaded a pinochle app on her Microsoft Surface Go. Fingers crossed she doesn't start sharing every headline she thinks she agrees with without reading the article or trying to see the point of view of the other side even if it is hard and confusing. BECAUSE THAT’S HOW WAR STARTS!

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Hartford, CT

Jessica Genidine Being Sassy AF!

Jessica Genidine Being Sassy AF!

Summer school is a much-loved staple of the American public school system. Which is why Jessica Genidine (grade 6) was so proud of her well-deserved B+ in Chemistry given to her by her teacher, Ms. Bunsen. Genidine came home expecting praise and affection from her parents for her work but, instead, her mom and dad couldn't stop blabbing and whining about her brother's first round of chemotherapy! 

“Look, not to be like rude or anything but, like, I worked like really hard for the past two months and I felt unappreciated and frankly unseen,” said Genidine when asked how she felt when her parents didn't put her needs before literally everything else in the world. Moving forward with the interview Jessica proceeded to list off numerous other examples of moments where her brother was wrongly paid more attention too than her. Below is an info-graphic to showing the examples Genidine listed.

Examples of How My Brother is Like A Total Attention Whore.png

“It’s a B+, like I don’t want to call my only daughter a complete hormone-driven evil harlot but, Jesus H. Christ my son has cancer,” said Jessica’s mom Linda Genidine.

We hope the family comes together and everyone recovers successfully but, for now, Jessica asked us to sign off by saying “It’s Ms. Bunsen’s fault. If she wasn’t such a ugly old woman and gave me an A maybe my brother wouldn't have cancer…

-A Well-Mannered Grump


This statement piece dubbed the “Taste The Rainbow Look” is a pride must-have.

This statement piece dubbed the “Taste The Rainbow Look” is a pride must-have.

In just a couple days June will turn to July, and rainbow short shorts will turn to red, white, and blue Jello Jigglers at your neighborhood block party. But before we let our moms dress us in Old Navy American flag tees from the year 2002, we get to dress ourselves in basically whatever the hell we want, while we unabashedly kiss whoever the hell we want. It’s Pride! Here are some things to wear so you can show your stuff on the big parade day-

1. Rainbow High Socks and Silly Glasses

Ha ha! Fun and quirky, a crowd pleaser, and always reliable. Pick ‘em up from Walmart the day before the parade to support your local big-business who definitely supports the gays, they promise! 

2. Lucky Charms Rainbow Marshmallow outfit

Who knew Lucky the Leprechaun was a gay icon? Not only is his cereal good for children on a sitcom or weeks worth of depression meals, but it has it’s place at the pride parade as well. First, buy a couple bags of just Lucky Charms marshmallows online in bulk, and pick out the rainbow ones individually. Trash those other shapes, they’re homophobic! Next, spend hours upon hours super-gluing the little rainbows onto the outfit of your choice. If it’s hot on parade day, beware of melting ‘mallows!

3. Scratch and Sniff my Junk

The true definition of a crowd pleaser. This one is real simple to make: head on over to the dollar store, and pick up a pack of scratch and sniff stickers from the crafting section. We chose the ones with little fruit faces on them, but any will do. Gently stick them all over your cup or your thong (whichever you choose, no judgement here), and voila! When you tell other parade-goers your junk is scratch and sniff, they won’t be able to resist! Fun for them, *extra* fun for you. ;)

4. Skittles “Taste The Rainbow” lickable ‘fit

Mmm-mm good! You’ll be lookin’ like a snack in this tasty fit. Simply sort a bunch of Skittles bags by color (a perk for those with a little OCD) and attach them to any old t shirt you may have lying around your closet. When you arrive to the parade, encourage others to have a taste of your outfit. Not only will it be a good ice breaker, but you’ll taste SO much like the rainbow that everyone under the LGBTQ sun will wanna be your pal. 

5. The Parachute from Spring Creek Elementary School made into a Ball Gown

March on into the Spring Creek Elementary’s kindergarten class and ask them to help you out. To earn their trust, promise them snacks. It’s as easy as that! Hop in the middle of their rainbow parachute and place each kindergartner on the edges, holding the parachute so it flares out like a ball gown. If the idea of bribing these kids so you can use their tiny bodies worries you, don’t fret! Just picture yourself as Glinda, and they are your munchkins. You make their lives better, and in return they offer tiny entertainment. Your parachute gown is sure to be a showstopper at the parade. 

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Schaumburg, IL

Untitled design (13).png

It is the first weekend of summer and people want to look their best when they’re out soaking up the sun near Lake Michigan. Naturally, this means people flooding the Woodfield Mall to shop until they drop. The recently engaged and definitely still sole mates Becca Catskill(26) and Pat Jones (28) were no exception. Their day was going splendidly until a spat took place in the middle of mall’s second floor beauty shop, Sephora.

Catskill was perusing the aisles of cosmetic products with vigor and vitality. She walked around like she owned the place and maybe because, she was about to drop a good chunk of change!

It is being reported that as Catskill was wrapping up her 55 minute deep dive into the world of Sephora when she overheard her fiance talking with another couple near the checkout counter. “I’ve found that my Head and Shoulders 3 in 1 gets the job done just as well as any of these overpriced concoctions.” said Pat Jones as he was met with an affirmative nod from the husband of the other couple.

The hair on the back of Catskill’s neck stood on end and in that moment she flung her body towards the direction of the conversation. “I’m sorry what are we talking about here folks?”  

Becca Catskill didn’t give the group time to answer and proceed to make a four minute long speech on the absurdity of the idea of a 3 in 1 hair care product. Her main arguments were as follows; “I’ve never known anyone who spreads themselves so thin to do a job well. I want a shampoo to work as a shampoo, a conditioner to work as a conditioner, and I don’t even think the people who make Men’s shampoos can think of a third product that goes in your hair.”

When Catskill’s tirade concluded a look of anguish came over the face of anyone within earshot. “Ok can we just checkout and go home honey?” said Jones. “Yes. As long as we all have learned a little something about how capitalists lie to you and steal your money by selling you products like 3 in 1 shampoo.”

“Mam, that will be $225.95.” said the cashier.

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Winnetka, IL


Father’s Day has rolled around once again and that means going to visit your parents and grandparents. It also means sneaking off to the kitchen to avoid conversation and to secretly go into Grandma’s cookie jar. Jet Smith did just this earlier today but, when he reached his greedy little paws into the famous cookie jar, he came out with a handful of what were clearly Lorne Doones bought at the Jewel Osco down the street.

Smith reluctantly took a bite into one of the mass produced shortbread cookies. We asked him what he felt in that moment. “As I put the crusty stale old cookie in my mouth I knew… I knew what my grandmother’s dry skin tasted like.” Thrown off by Smith’s response we panicked and asked him to elaborate. “Well you know how you’ve always wondered how your grandparents skin tastes like, what the texture is like, if you can feel the remnants of The Great Depression on your tongue?” Smith continued.

At this point we would like to make it clear that we didn't intend to learn the rest of the information we receive but now feel obligated to report it… as we are journalists of moral character.

“Keep going.” we urged Smith. “ You see in my spare time I have been murdering people and documenting each type of person’s taste, aftertaste, and texture in an Excel spreadsheet. I was excited when I put the Lorna Doone in my mouth because I’ve been hesitant to brutally take the life of anyone in my own family in fear that I wouldn't get birthday presents from them anymore. This cookie’s taste however, was near enough to what I had experienced before that I thought I could complete the equation for what my family might taste like. I knew what to plug in for “X”. Of course all studies done correctly under the scientific method need a validity statement and how in my right mind could I go based solely off of one hypothetical cookie tasting family member’s body? So I killed the oldest and weakest of the Smith lineage to gather proper data.  I think we’ll all be pleased with the findings when I release my report.”

Jet Smith was put behind bars a few hours after our interview with him. We take credit for bringing this criminal to justice and give no credit to police offices. This is because we’re the news and we don’t like the police, unless they are playing basketball with underprivileged youth.

It is being reported that Smith has said but one sentence while being interrogated.

“The only crime I’m guilty of is being too SCIENCY!

-A Well-Mannered Grump


Chicago, IL


Inhumane is the best word to describe the living situation quite literally growing at 5844 N Ashland Ave. Roommates Fred Woods and Alexa Couples have been generating garbage their entire lives however, for the past three weeks neither has decided to become the bigger person and take out the trash. This epic standoff now enters it’s twenty first day.

In the back right corner of the kitchen clearly furnished in the 1990’s sat a large brown trash can filled with an empty black Hefty Hefty Hefty trash bag. The can slowly filled with containers, bottles, and bags. Eventually saturated with waste, Fred Woods, Paralegal and not so upcoming SoundCloud rapper, tossed an empty blueberry Chobani bulk sized bucket towards the basket of waste. Clink. Thud. The bucket hit the ground there was no room in the trash. It needed to be emptied and taken out. We asked Woods why he didn’t take out the trash. He responded with a heartfelt “dude… wasn’t really feeling it.”

We skip ahead 18 days

The kitchen floor is covered in filth. Surely no human lives in this dumpster posing as an apartment. In walks Alexa Couples, used tissues in hand. A brief pause. A majestic overhand flick of the wrist. “Kobe!” Alexa stepped on K-Cups, wrappers, and what could have been a horses full family on her way back to her room. The growing stank tank that lay just beyond her bedroom door seemed to be of no concern. When asked Couples was quick to defend her actions “I do the dishes.” While that doesn't necessarily make sense in this context we assume she is defending herself by saying she does other chores around the apartment and shouldn’t have to carry everyone else’s lazy asses for the rest of her whole goddamn life!

We’ve called multiple times for a follow up interview. There has been no answer. We hope they are not trapped so far into their stubbornness that they have buried themselves alive. If the previous is true however, we hope they get the best Chobani yogurt bucket gravestones.

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Chicago, IL


It has become customary for Dylan Richter (31) to wake up at the sound of the two little goddamn yippie ass chihuahuas that live beneath him. Richter knows to expect nature’s alarm clock to greet him every morning promptly at 6:32 am, two minutes after their landlord’s alarm rings. Today, Tuesday June 4th, 2019, Richter was awake come 6:32. He had already made a cup of black coffee and was enjoying it on his back porch when the two chihuahuas were let out promptly at 6:32. Today, now that Richter could see the dogs and not just have his sleep interrupted by their yappity yippty ass fricking barks, the chihuahuas were actually kinda cute.

When asked why he had a different experience Richter responded quickly, as if he had been waiting to tell someone. “Well that's an interesting question Mr. Reporter. You seen in the past I was burdened by what I thought to be an inconvenience put on this planet solely to disturb my sleeping schedule. Mr. Reporter, it turns out that I only felt the way I did because I was only experiencing one side of the occurrence, one side of what the world had to tell me. If each and every one of us took the time to see how cute those little goddamn yippie ass chihuahuas can be, the world would be a much better place.”

We will take a moment to acknowledge that this was one of the most enlightened responses to a question we had ever heard and we encourage those reading this story to take a moment in your everyday life and think. Think about what the other side has to say and why they are saying it. Do not immediately disregard another simply because they do not think what you do.  

To close we should mention that since our interview with Mr. Dylan Richter, he has announced his plans to run for State Representative as a member of the Libertarian Party.

— A Well-Mannered Grump



Plenty of people are weird about gays.  But not local grandma, Deborah Schultz. Deborah  “loves the gays.” She loves them so much that she keeps referring to grandson, Sean’s long-time boyfriend James as his “VERY special friend.”  

“This is my grandson, Sean...and this is his very special friend, James,” said Deborah last year. “Their wedding is this weekend. They are VERY good friends.”

Talk about woke! Deborah has watched her grandson struggle to marry the love of his life and achieve equal status both in the eyes of the law and among his family and friends for years, and she still can’t say boyfriend, fiancée or husband!  

Deborah, who would was in the room when Sean and James announced that they were in the process of adopting a baby, explained how woke she is.

“My grandson and his...very special friend are in the process of adopting a baby,” she said. “I don’t have any problem with those kinds of people. I love the gays!”

Wow! She just offered that up last part and no one even asked!

Meanwhile, Deborah wouldn’t stop sharing photos of granddaughter Hannah’s recent trip to Hawaii with her stupid Wall Street trader boyfriend, Geoff.

“SHE’S NOT WOKE!!” Said grandson Sean. “I overheard her one time on the phone saying ‘I don’t know why those people insist on causing such a ruckus.’ Also saying you love “the gays” doesn’t make you an ally. She’s sharing pics of Hannah and Geoff’s trip to Hawaii? Why does Geoff spell his name like that? No one should spell their name like that! Why are you writing this article?”

Powerful words from a thankful grandson.

“I am so okay with gay people,” Deborah said during a quiet moment when no one asked. “I am very okay with that lifestyle. You should hear my friend Wilma go on though. She hates gay people.”

It’s fascinating that her best friend Wilma, who is openly homophobic and transphobic and has a trans grandchild, is Deborah’s once again her best friend.

“Call me old fashioned, but why do your friends insist on wearing all that leather, Sean?” A brave Deborah asked. “ It’s interesting to me that  I’ve never seen your special boy buddy wear chaps to the house. Oh! Between you and me I think your aunt Emily married a gay, I say this because he loves Cole Porter, who I think might have also been a gay. Sean, you love Cole Porter, too don’t you?”

When pressed for a comment Sean had a lot to say!

“I don’t even know what you want me to say here, SHE’S NOT WOKE. Saying you love a marginalized group isn’t actually to allyship! She’s not validating my existence and experience doesn't make you an ally, just like saying you’re “ok” with trans people but using their dead name or incorrect pronouns means you don’t love trans people. I MEAN I FEEL LIKE I'M LOSING MY MIND HERE,” said Sean, who was actually wearing chaps.

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Ooh, look at you, clicking on this sexy article at work while pretending to use Excel Spreadsheets, because you said on your LinkedIn profile that you’re proficient in Excel Spreadsheets, and now you’re in way too deep to back out now!


Don’t worry, we’ll make this worth your time. Read on to learn how to elevate the most underwhelming sex move, second only to him trying to give you head. That’s right, we’re talking hand jobs. Now, you may think that hand jobs belong to the realm of sweaty high school fumblings in the back of your local AMC.

You’re not wrong.

But that’s only because you haven’t been allowing them to live up to their full potential. Let me ask, do you dole out your hand jobs like they’re a chore, mere foreplay to the foreplay? Or do you play up their inherent whimsical theatricality?

It’s as simple as this. The next time you reach over to seduce your partner with your palm, do yourselves both a favor, and stick your pinky out so he knows you fancy.

This one simple action will transport him to a different plane of existence. Instead of it being 8:45pm on your couch as you both watch the latest episode of Killing Eve (how does Phoebe Waller-Bridge deliver every time??), he will suddenly be envisioning you at a cricket game, wearing one of those weird tiny hats and saying things like: “Crumpets, jolly-o!” And he’ll be into it. Oh yeah. He’ll be into it.

He’ll get off on imagining that you’re Meghan Markle — or Theresa May, if he’s kinky like that. If you reeeaally want to get the clotted cream on the scone, so to speak, start discussing Brexit in explicit detail. God, that referendum was close. Does he think that the EU will accept parliament’s demands? How exactly is this going to affect the global economy?

Uh-oh, Brenda from the cubicle to your left is peering over! That nosy bitch. So go ahead, pretend to be crunching some spreadsheet numbers, and get ready to flex your digitus minimus manus. Your proper sex life will thank you.

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Rocky Hill, CT

Anyone who has ever been to Donna Durbin’s home saw this day coming. The day where Donna would go on her typical Sunday Target run, wander into the home decor section, and buy another Thanksgiving themed throw pillow. This pillow however, was different. This pillow was the thirteenth Durbin had bought since moving into her new house. This pillow, filled the last crevice on her plush Bob-O-Pedic sleeper sofa, rendering it completely and utterly… useless.

We sat down with Durbin’s friends from cribbage night to discuss the purchase. “We should have said something to her sooner but, it was hard because… buying an obscene amount of pillows made her so happy” said Carol Burns, close friend and longtime online scrabble partner. It was apparent to us after a while, this case screamed “cushion addiction”.

A Cushion Purchasing Disorder (which is sometimes referred to as Ibuyalotofpillowsanditgetsinthewayofmyeverydaylife) is a pattern of pillow purchasing that involves problems controlling how often, how much, and how many pillows you buy even when it causes problems in routine day to day life.  

“Normally I’d be upset that we couldn't use our two thousand dollar couch but, uhhh in the past I’ve spilled a lot of booze on our other couches so this kinda works out. No couch to spill on… can’t spill on no couch. We complete each other.” said Donna’s husband Richard who continued to make several insensitive jokes about alcoholism. He said he could say whatever he wanted because he’s an alcoholic and has great health insurance. We debated for a short while but, the insensitive jokes were actually quite funny.

Donna’s family and friends plan to take action in the form of an intervention. They plan to make Donna sit on the current invisible couch, hold each pillow, and ask herself if it brings her joy. Richard suggested they have the intervention over a few bottles of wine. We gave them both the number of Dr. Susan Brandanowitz, a local psychologist who has been working prolifically for the last few decades with clients with addictions. Dr. Brandanowitz said “it makes me feel in control when I fix other people’s addictions. I can’t get enough of it!”


— A Well-Mannered Grump


In Cities, Everywhere

Bethabell Beal, of literally any city anywhere, recently went through a breakup. But she ATE her ice cream pints, she WATCHED those rom-coms, she STALKED her ex’s Twitter/Instagram/Facebook/LinkedIn/Old Neopets account time and time again. So now, a mere week later, Bethabell says she’s never been better.

This is why, when she showed up to Margarita Monday at the gal’s favorite local bar with a fresh new do, her friends reacted… strongly.

“Oh honey no.”

“Where the fuck is your forehead.”

“A therapist would have been a better investment.”

“Are you Zooey Deschanel’s uglier twin?”

That’s right- Bethabell Beal got her ass off her couch just 7 days after her brutal dumping, marched her ass to Mario Tricoci, and her ass asked the stylist for “blunt bangs.”

“Everyone keeps asking me if I’m okay? I’m GREAT! I’ve never been better!!” Bethabell remarks, “My bangs represent my new life as I move forward as a single woman. I am STRONG, INDEPENDENT, and READY for life!”  

As she sips her 7 dollar fresh juice from Whole Foods out of a plastic straw, Bethabell needs no prompting to show those around her that she is completely and utterly FINE.

“Look. I’m at Whole Foods, I’m shopping like a NORMAL person!!! Wooo look at me! Doing things! I’m FINE okay!!!!”

Bethabell tells the man at check-out that she got bangs recently for her own pleasure and that she doesn’t need a therapist. Confused, the man stares blankly and says “congrats” with a slightly judgemental tone. Bethabell leaves the interaction with a smile- “see??? He believes me.”

If you or someone you know is suffering from PBBS (post break up bangs syndrome), call 1-800-420-PBBS for help. No, it’s not just a therapist over the phone, we promise.

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Glastonbury, CT

This past Wednesday the Helm family sat down at the dinner table for a nice tech-free meal before Jack Helm, the breadwinner of the family, left for a business trip early the next morning. Soon after Mr. Helm’s departure, Susan Helm’s “friend from Vermont” arrived for a visit.

The kiddo of the house knew his Mom’s friend from Vermont well, as he visited often when his father was away for business. “Roger Roger,” shouted little Jack Jr. when he saw Roger from Vermont embracing his mother. “Hey there slugger” responded Roger as he threw a few fake jabs in a playful manner.  The night went on as most of Roger’s visits went. Jack Jr. would play some video games with Roger and then go to his friends house for a sleepover.

This visit was different though, as Jack Jr. had just turned 9 years old and was, like super mature now. At the sleepover Jack Jr. voiced his concern about what role Roger from Vermont plays in his parents life. Jack Jr.’s best friend Freddie McCormick who was held back a year had already hit the landmark age of 10 and asked if Jack Jr. really wanted to know the answer. Jack Jr. often looked to McCormick for advice but this was the first time “Loudmouth” Freddie McCormick was apprehensive to speak up. Jack Jr. insisted on knowing what it seemed Freddie knew.

“Sex.” said McCormick.

“Sex?” questioned Jack.

After a few hours of jaws dropping and quite a few rather sloppy diagrams drawn in crayon, Jack decided to call his Dad and tell him about Roger from Vermont.

We only know of this story because, Jack Jr. was found running around in circles in the middle of the street holding a phone, yelling “NOOOOO GROSSSSS!” and was eventually found by a reporter of ours who happens to be the McCormick’s neighbor.

When we asked Jack Helm Sr. what he said to set his son off he simply responded, “I told him, his Mom is a very horny lady and my job happens to require me to go out of town often so Roger comes down and your Mom bangs him while I’m away.”

Jack Jr. is currently in therapy

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Kansas City, Missouri

In a desperate attempt to grab the attention of Faxton Elementary 3rd grade teacher Miss. Sandra O’Connell, student Jimmy Carsons (8) accidentally called her “mom” in front of his classmates.

The incident occurred this past Tuesday, and since then, Jimmy’s classmates have proven they will not forget the episode any time soon.

“Jimmy’s a frickin’ dipwad!” largest student in class Buck Bykowski tells Grump, “Everyone knows calling the teacher mom is like, really embarrassing. And also he’ll probably never forget it. And also it will be one of those things he always remembers when he feels uncomfortable throughout his life. And also it will keep him up at night late into his 30s.”

“Tuesday was the first time it happened, but then… he’s said it again every day since then.” says class clown and Fortnight Star Sara Smith, “It’s like he WANTS to be made fun of.”

But in a shocking turn of events, when Carsons sat down to speak to Grump on the incident, he let us in on what happened Tuesday evening after the initial mom-calling.

“When I accidentally called Miss. O’Connell mom I was embarrassed, of course. But after school she pulled me aside in angry tears, asking me to keep calling her mom,” said Jimmy.

Grump was approached by an anonymous source, who said in our top secret interview “O’Connell and I have been boning during lunch period for 4 years now. Yeah, we like to sneak into the janitor closet and she says things like ‘OH YEAH DADDY JUST LIKE THAT’ or ‘GIVE ME A BABY’ or even ‘FUCK THE INFERTILITY RIGHT OUTTA ME,’ freaky stuff. Anyway you’re gonna blur my face and distort my voice right? I gotta go teach 3rd graders how to play basketball.”

When we asked Jimmy to elaborate on the punishment Miss. O’Connell is threatening, he said “She didn’t just ask me to call her that. She… said she would make my homework the example for the rest of the YEAR. And that I’d lose recess privileges at least once a week! And that I’d always have to be the first to read out loud… especially during the puberty unit in health class.”

With no plans to fight the blackmail, Jimmy will spend the final months of 3rd grade with Miss. O’Connell acting as his psudo-mother. Students suspect each year, the first student who makes the dreaded mistake will follow in Jimmy’s footsteps. This may be the making of playground lore

— A Well-Mannered Grump


Bumblefuck, PA

“It wasn’t always like this,” explains Mallory McDonald, a no-longer-recent college graduate without honors. Sitting in the Pretty Piggy Art Studio, she absentmindedly twirls a Hobby Lobby label paintbrush. “Back in the day, when I first graduated and moved back here with my parents to repay my student loan debt for the next fifty-eight years, I had so many plans. I averaged like three and a half self-help books a week, listened to a bunch of podcasts on how to hustle, even made a vision board or two. But let’s be real. I live in Bumblefuck. Not Philly, not Pittsburgh. Not even Allentown. Bumblefuck. There isn’t exactly a strong entrepreneurial scene here.” A friend of a friend introduced McDonald to Sip’N’Paint, and “from there, it just totally altered my life course. It’s really true what they say, it’s those weak ties that often open you up to opportunity.”

The class itself is a healthy mix of relaxed post-menopausal women and twenty-eight-year-old former members of their alma mater’s uncool sorority. Bottles start popping, and a chorus of “it’s wine o’clock!” disjointedly rings through the room. Each woman then goes around in the circle confirming that God has blessed her life, as well as that of her husband Richard, who is the president of the Rotary Club, or alternately her furbaby Cocoapuffs.

At the end of the hour, McDonald finally reveals her masterpiece: a night sky with a full moon reflected in a pond below, mostly identical in color, shape, and scope to the artwork of the twenty-some-odd other participants. “I used to be so desperately anxious about my future. But now I’ve found peace turning my pain…into paint,” she explains. “I feel like I’ve finally found my purpose. Motherfuckin’ rosé all day, baby! Clink CLINK!”

“We’re so proud of our her,” Mallory’s mother, Maura McDonald, sighs. “She’s really branching out. Next week, she’s going to a paint-your-own-pottery studio. Who knows what’s next? An Etsy account?”

When asked how she spends her day when she isn’t bringing more beauty into the world via her generic paintings of sunflowers and tropical sunsets, McDonald looks away coyly for a moment. “Well, my passion takes up most of my free time, but let’s be real, I am looking for a guy,” she assures. “Ideally one who keeps his confederate flag discreetly inside his home, instead of on his car, because again, this is Bumblefuck. I voted for Hillary!”

— A Well-Mannered Grump