Be very afraid.
All the Republican politicians and Fox News pundits are 150% right when they call Chicago a crime-infested, corrupt, leftist, sleazebag hellhole. And it’s even worse in the summer, when we’re even sleazier and hellhole-ier, so definitely stay away right now if you value your life.
I pity people who come to visit over the summer months, because everything the right-wingers say about us is true, true and true. Every single person living within the city limits is killed each night and we just ship in new people to be killed the next night. Every black person is a murderous gang thug and every homeless person is planning to burn down the next building they see. And don’t think you’ll be safe around the white people, either, because they’ll grab your children and make them gay or trans or bi- or tri- or quadruple.
We completely de-funded the police and we give looters frequent flier miles for the value of their stolen goods. Nobody speaks English, of course, because the only people you’ll find out in public are illegal aliens who would steal all our jobs, if we had any businesses that were still operating.
Apologists for the city will claim that it’s really safe here and tourists should come and visit in the summer. They’ll try to lure outa towners with stories about outdoor dining and neighborhood festivals and zoos and culture. They’ll brag about restaurants with Michelin stars and the highest-rated museums in the world. They'll try to trick you with baseball and hot dogs—the real ones, not those skinny tubes of fat they sell in New York—and all that other claptrap.
They might even try to confuse you with "facts" and "truth," but don't be fooled. It’s a crime-infested, corrupt, leftist, sleazebag hellhole here and it’s especially dangerous now that there’s a fatwa against suburbanites who venture east of Harlem. (Especially you, Schaumburgians!!)
There’s a bounty on the heads of all the conventioneers who get lost in the most-logical street grid on earth and there’s a shoot-on-sight order for anyone who comes for that stupid NASCAR thing over Fourth of July weekend. It’s a combination of The Purge and Saw, but all day every day, all summer long.
Whatever you do, stay away from Chicago this summer. No matter how careful you are, you will absolutely be murdered, assuming you weren’t carjacked and left for dead on the way into town.
If you’re still feeling lucky, punk, you should definitely wait to come here after Labor Day, or maybe November, just to be safe. By then, all the gang leaders will have moved down to their mansions in Cuba and the immigrants will be at their vacation homes in Texas and Florida. Businesses will be operating again and we’ll have at least 50 people on the police force. Granted, all of them will be named Fife, but we do the best we can. According to the actuaries, you’ll have a 74% chance of surviving your visit here if you show up after summer is over; and up to 78% if you don’t leave your hotel room.
Just remember, you’ve been warned. There’s nothing worse than being a tourist in Chicago in the summer, so stay out of our toddlin’ town if you know what’s good for you. Those of us who already live here will try, ever so bravely, to make the most of our summertime agony, and we’ll let you know when/if it’s safe to pay us a visit. Definitely not until after Labor Day, though. We'll let you know.
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The speech that every new college graduate needs to hear, but they won’t, because the international educational conspiracy has cancelled me once again.
On behalf of the trustees, the faculty and our staff, and especially on behalf of our sponsor, Subway, I extend my warmest welcome and congratulations to all of our graduates, your families, your friends, and your emotional support gerbils.
Today’s graduation ceremony is unlike any other in the history of our university, because yours is a graduation class that is unique. You began your journey in these ivied halls in 2019, gaining the wisdom passed down through generations and enjoying the opportunity to study together at one of the many Subway restaurants that we are so proud to host on our campus.
Your time on campus was interrupted in 2020 and 2021 as the Covid crisis forced us to shift to remote learning and required so many of you to make the difficult adjustment to ordering your Subway sandwiches delivered to your parent’s basements.
I should note here that the university makes no judgments regarding Covid, whether it was real or not, whether it came from a lab or an animal, assuming it existed at all, or whether the university truly deserved the $22 billion we received in emergency funding from the federal government. We are quite justifiably proud of our ability to continue providing the valuable educational enrichment that is our hallmark and for our success in rejecting refunds for the campus housing you paid for before we sent you home.
All’s well that ends well, though—as you might have learned if we still taught the writings of dead, white, foreign men—because you were able to return to campus for this, your final year of studies, and enjoy the camaraderie of friends and colleagues, especially during study sessions at Subway.
Beyond the disruptions caused by Covid, which might or might not have been real or justified, your class is unique in many other ways. Yours is the first graduating class to spend four years without ever having to listen to a any speakers you disagreed with or take classes with any instructors whose opinions did not match yours 100%. As you move forward into the working world, we know this singular focus on your needs, your sensitivities and your triggers will serve you well in your dealings with co-workers and employers.
Of course, your advancement into the working world will also be unique, since 94 percent of your jobs have already been replaced by the same artificial intelligence you’ve all been using to write your term papers. Whether you planned to enter the field of marketing, law, accounting, or pretty much anything else, your skills became obsolete on day three of your junior year.
Yes, we were aware of it at the time and we did not tell you or change our curriculum, but you all clicked “agree” on our Terms of Service and there will be no refunds. I know this will disappoint some of you, but we like to think of it as one final lesson that we can provide in our continuing and often thankless mission to give you the kind of education you so richly deserve.
I know that many of you are already feeling nostalgic for the university experience, or at least that’s what it says in the speech draft that I ordered from Chat GPT, so let’s go with that idea. Even as you must depart our hallowed halls, after paying the full damage deposit for the dorm room you might or might not have occupied, we offer you a special opportunity to continue your education through our new graduate degree program.
Our new Masters of Adulthood program is a forward-looking, multi-discipline amalgamation of educational opportunities that have not been available to you until now. Through our unique curriculum, you will learn how to balance a checkbook, mail a letter, repay your student loans, distinguish between real people and deep fakes in both print and 3D, move out of your parents’ basements, and repurpose your Subway sandwich wrappers to make eco-friendly underwear.
Tuition for our new graduate program is payable in advance, in cash, because we know you’ve all maxed out your student loan limits and you really have no job prospects at this point. Think of this as your first important lesson in being an adult, and it is totally free to you to gain this tiny morsel of wisdom.
Also totally free, we have created a lifetime membership for each of you in our alumni association, so that we can stay connected and you can maintain your support of our fine institution in this life and beyond. Just to be clear, you will have to pay the full costs of membership for the rest of your life, but we did not charge any administration fees for enrolling you and clicking “agree” on the Terms of Service. You are so very, very welcome.
Finally, in closing, and accordance with our consent decree, I must say is has been a pleasure and an honor to provide you with an invaluable educational opportunity here. As you continue your life’s journey, I know we will always be connected by our shared mission and values, as well as your alumni association membership. I know we can rely on you to represent our university with pride, with integrity, and with donations, and that you will always, always remember to Eat Fresh.
Now that all the university presidents have read this speech, I know I’ll be busy making appearances at hundreds of campuses next year. I’ll provide a sneak peak at my 2024 invocation for subscribers, so click here and you’ll be the first to know.
Changing my birthday yet again
I turned 70 yesterday and I recognized my actual birthday for the first time in a decade.
It’s not that I’ve been pretending to be young for the last bunch of years, as if anyone would be fooled by my futile imitation of youth. Instead, I opted ten years ago to move my officially sanctioned birthday from May to June, forsaking the day that mom chose to toss me into the world.
Mostly, it’s been a nice shift. I get to pay lots of attention to all the moms on my roster on Mother’s Day and I have my own little moment for celebration that I don’t have to share with anyone else. There have been complications, though, including the fact that I can’t always remember exactly which date I picked for my new birthday observance. So, when people ask me to remind them of my new date, I have to stop and look it up. As I get older, this situation is not likely to improve.
Then there’s the issue of social media, with Facebook inviting people to send me greetings on my actual nativity date and declining my attempts to change their records to acknowledge my new benchmark. I suspect they’d allow me to change my gender at this point, but birthdays are absolutely non-fluid. So, on May 13, I get B-Day wishes from some people and questions about the “real” date from others and I get the feeling people think I am even weirder than they thought before. As if that was possible.
And it has become just a bit uncomfortable when I exchange greetings with people who have the same birthday as me, including one of my cousins. They all know I’ve deserted them and, TBH, I’ve started to feel just a bit guilty about my betrayal.
The final straw, though, is the aging process itself. I’m not quite at the point where George Burns announced, “At my age, I don’t buy green bananas,” but I’m getting closer all the time. The idea of delaying a birthday celebration, even if only for a few weeks, just keeps getting dumber and dumber.
So it’s back to Friday the 13th and conflicts with Mothers’ Day and weather that isn’t nearly as warm as it is in June and restaurants that haven’t opened their patios yet, because this is my day of infamy and I can rely on Facebook to remind me when it arrives.
Of course, my reversal of my reversal is turning a lot of people into really bad friends. If you didn’t wish me a happy birthday yesterday, you are seriously late and there is no excuse for your failure to remember my very special day. Yeah, you’re going to whine that you didn’t know and I just told you today, but the truth is that you were never a good person to begin with and you’ve let me down yet again. Honestly, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.
Of course, you can make it up to me with a belated birthday gift that reflects the level of your remorse at your transgression. Just as a reminder, I wear a size 42 Armani or a 911 Porsche.
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Leaning in to the boycott market, the new biggest lies in business, and the Olympic sport where I’d win gold…among other ramblings this week.
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Tax time is just around the corner and, once again, Dad Writes is here to save our readers $trillions in unnecessary payments to the evil jackbooted thugs at the Internal Revenue Service.
Don’t be intimidated by the impenetrable forms and rules that the government puts out to cower us into compliance, and ignore all the so-called “experts” like “certified” public accountants. We’re just as certifiable as any of them and we know what the mainstream media won’t tell you.
Everyone knows there are two sets of rules in terms of tax liability. One is for the poor schlubs who pay all the bills and the other is for the ultra-rich, the people who can afford yachts and islands and an entire Disney+ bundle. The ultra-rich have their own tax code, which is how they pay 0.07% of their income in taxes while the rest of us are tossing back a quarter for every buck we earn. Never fear, though, because there are plenty of special tax tricks for regular folks, if you know where to look.
We hacked the IRS system, or, um, we heard from a friend of a friend that someone else—not us—might have hacked into the IRS system, and we might have found some super-secret tax breaks just lying on the street. Yes, that’s it. But now that we found those tax breaks, quite by accident and with no hacking whatsoever, we are exercising our First Amendment Rights to share them with our readers.
For instance, did you know…
There’s much more, of course, including the special tax credit for defaulting on your student loans, the 150% deduction for hosting a banned book bonfire, and the always popular “cash receipts” switcheroo. Unfortunately, we can’t divulge all the secrets here, so you’ll have to ask your tax professional about those other tax-saving techniques.
We’re not allowed to disclose how many trillions of dollars our subscribers have saved by following our unique tax advice, but let’s just say it’s well worth the price of clicking here to subscribe.
Who writes this stuff?
Dadwrites oozes from the warped mind of Michael Rosenbaum, an award-winning author who spends most of his time these days as a start-up business mentor, book coach, photographer and, mostly, a grandfather. All views are his alone, largely due to the fact that he can’t find anyone who agrees with him.