adBlockCheck

Local

Nation’s Sanitation Workers Announce Everything Finally Clean

‘Please Try To Keep It This Way,’ Say Workers

WASHINGTON—After spending years sweeping and scrubbing across all 50 states, the nation’s sanitation workers announced Thursday that everything was finally clean and asked Americans if they could please keep it that way.

Grandma Looking Like Absolute Shit Lately

VERO BEACH, FL—Unable to ignore the 86-year-old’s dramatic physical decline since they last saw her, sources within the Delahunt family reported Monday that their grandmother Shirley is looking like absolute shit lately.

Family Sadly Marks First 4/20 Without Grandmother

ALBANY, NY—Reminiscing about the departed matriarch while partaking in the annual festivities, members of the Osterman family sadly marked their first 4/20 since the passing of their grandmother, sources reported Thursday.

Report: Store Out Of Good Kind

UTICA, NY—Unable to locate them on their usual shelf, local man George Rambart, 41, reported Thursday that the store was out of the good kind.

Relapse Greatest Week Of Man’s Life

TAMPA, FL—Exhilarated for every minute of his multiday binge, local man Todd Caramanica told reporters Thursday that his relapse into crippling alcoholism has been the greatest week of his life.

Man Tries Using Pink 6-Pound Bowling Ball To Great Amusement

WEST ORANGE, NJ—Seemingly knowing full well that the relatively small and light ball was not designed for someone of his size, sources confirmed Tuesday that 25-year-old Darren Foerstner tried using a pink 6-pound bowling ball for one frame, all to the incredible amusement of friends and onlookers at Eagle Rock Lanes bowling alley.

Breaking: Waiter Picking Up Napkin With Bare Hand

SAN ANTONIO—Watching in horror as he directly handles the dirty, crumpled piece of paper without the aid of a glove or any other sanitary barrier, Sunset Grove Cafe patron Samantha Barnes is at this moment panicking upon noticing that her waiter has picked up her used napkin with his bare hand.
End Of Section
  • More News

Horribly Depressed Zookeeper Has Always Had Special Connection With Animals

TULSA, OK—Saying that he has always perceived a “unique connection,” chronically depressed zookeeper Andrew Holcomb, 46, told reporters Wednesday that he shares a deep and special bond with the animals confined in his zoo.

Holcomb, a senior caretaker at the Tulsa Zoo, explained that he feels an innate kinship with the captive creatures under his watch, a tie that is said to have only strengthened with his increasingly frequent and crippling bouts of melancholy, low affect, and disenchantment with the world around him.

“I’ve always felt very close to the animals here,” said the depressive, who spends the vast majority of his time moving in a pitifully small radius between his home and workplace. “I feel a renewed connection with them each morning when I come in and see them pacing endlessly back and forth in their cages or sitting in the same corner of their enclosure that I last saw them in the night before. It’s like we understand one another on some deeper level.”

“We just seem to get each other,” Holcomb added, staring back at reporters with downtrodden, lifeless eyes.

The clinically depressed Holcomb—whose existence is reportedly marked by a dreary cycle of purposelessly milling about, eating the same packaged lunch day in and day out, and sleeping for as long as 12 hours a night—said that he has always felt most comfortable in the presence of the mammals, birds, and reptiles at his zoo. The despondent and aimless animal caretaker, who reportedly has spent his entire professional career within the confines of the Tulsa Zoo, says that he sees in the wildlife park’s attractions “a certain something” that especially resonates with him.

The man whose utterly unfulfilling social life consists of lethargic interactions with the same five coworkers acknowledged feeling a uniquely strong connection with certain animals in particular, as he gestured toward a small group of western lowland gorillas listlessly slumping on the other side of a Plexiglas divider.

“The great apes really speak to me on almost a spiritual level, I’d say,” said the mentally unwell man, who occasionally suffers panic attacks that cause him to pound his fists in helpless rage on the countertop in his small ranch house. “It’s almost as if we’re on the same wavelength. There’s a real link between us.”

The zookeeper, whose profound anxiety and mood disorders have left him socially isolated, poorly nourished, and have caused him to steadily lose his hair, admitted that while he appreciates the special bond he feels with the animals in the zoo’s enclosures, he often considers other paths his life could have taken if he had not been recruited by the zoo and settled in Tulsa two decades ago.

In spite of such frequent daydreams of life outside the park, the perpetually downcast zookeeper admitted that working in the same place day in and day out is all he knows anymore, and that, at this point, he has become resigned to the idea that he will stay at the facility for the rest of his working life.

A number of individuals who have observed Holcomb at the zoo confirmed his deeply depressed state, noting that the middle-aged man appeared visibly forlorn and acquiescent to his condition.

“I see Andrew once in a while wandering around the grounds,” said concessionaire Janine Stack, who claimed the zookeeper always appeared poorly groomed and seemed to be missing a certain “spark” or liveliness that one might expect of a zoologist in the field. “He seems so sullen and doesn’t look particularly healthy—you really can’t help but stare at him.”

“Whenever I see him, I feel a little bad for the way his life has gone,” she added. “But then I just move on and put him out of my mind altogether.”

More from this section

Report: Store Out Of Good Kind

UTICA, NY—Unable to locate them on their usual shelf, local man George Rambart, 41, reported Thursday that the store was out of the good kind.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

Close