Extra Evil - Replaced by Robots

Today's Fortune: Your true love will find their truer love.

Newsreel

Bartenders prepared for the Election Day rush.

Twitter sold, in defiance of the seller, purchaser, and user base.

Republicans condemned Paul Pelosi's attacker for jumping ahead of schedule.

The Fed piledrived global trade onto thumbtacks.

Putin listed extinction's pros and cons on a napkin.

Netanyahu beat peace in the polls.

Today's Mood

(I made this artfully dumb image, among others, for this collab.)

War Journal

Fun story: for years, a girl I've never met used my number to turn down dates. I previously assumed fake numbers were made up on the spot, but Sarah had preptime.

Sarah was popular, mostly on weekends.  Her suitors texted with a unique mixture of hope and desperation, with the former giving way to the latter by Sunday. A lot of them were DJs.

Whoever Sarah is, she gave me something valuable. I recieved dick pics at work. I was called most variations of cunt. A stranger described our connection. All from the same person, in the same day. Even I'm not empathy-challenged enough to avoid the lesson there.

The texts stopped in 2020. I hope that she's alive, and curving DJs today.

When I become baron, I'm punting Election Day as far away from family holidays as possible. The current sequence feels like a prank from the Founders we spend secondary school worshiping. Much like the constitution itself.

Ten years ago, I had a hunch that American sanity wasn't on a winning trajectory. But I never thought we'd lose "Niggas in Paris." I've belted that song more than "Happy Birthday." And now half of it feels like Mein Kampf with a backbeat.

If his next album is Mein Kampf with a Backbeat, I'm suing for royalties. The Dayle Think Tank isn't free.

A bit of rough news: Weeaboo Hell is in the podcast graveyard. Not one of the fun Hollywood graveyards, where the dead rise every Halloween. A mundane, dirt and concrete goth hangout.

I earnestly apologize to everyone that enjoyed it. If I made the call, Weeaboo Hell would continue long after democracy and the biosphere collapse. I have a bottomless well of insults for isekai, and I keep them in a nice, organized list at my bedside. Not just because of the ichorous hate flowing through my veins, but because I like entertaining you.

Long story short, my cohost didn't like the workload. It's a two-man show, so that's that. Honestly, I’m more than a little disappointed, especially after soloing the backroom labor. So it goes.

I’ll upload a proper audio sendoff soon. Until then, thank you for your ears.

The Present

The aforementioned crossover special offered a simple choice: Vote or Die.

I documented my struggle with the "unprecedented."

Everything Abridged is still the book you've been waiting for.

My 1-900-HOTDOG reached either new heights or unfathomable lows.

Ratio warfare  cannot be stopped, but it can be mastered.

The Past

I still enjoy my reflection on drone warfare.

The Future

Something fun in video in the near future.

My next love letter to the mayor comes out Wednesday.

The book's taking shape.

One Sentence Reviews

The Onion - Our Dumb Century: The peak of a comedy dynasty. (4.5/5)

Gabriel Iglesias - Stadium Fluffy: Turns out only jokes are recycleable. (1.5/5)

Sheng Wang - Diamonds are Forever, But So Is a Plastic Bag: Exists. (2/5)

Vampire Survivors: The best legal ROI on five dollars. (3.5/5)

Kyle Kinane - I Liked His Old Stuff Better: Peaks high. (4/5)

Open Question

Signing off

Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter challenging for the title. Share it to kick out at two.

-DD