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Fact-Checking The First Presidential Debate

Addressing issues ranging from national security to trade to their personal controversies, Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton and Republican nominee Donald Trump squared off in the first presidential debate Monday. The Onion takes a look at the validity of their bolder claims:

Viewers Impressed By How Male Trump Looked During Debate

HEMPSTEAD, NY—Saying the Republican nominee exhibited just the qualities they were looking for in the country’s next leader, viewers throughout the nation reported Monday night that they were impressed by how male Donald Trump appeared throughout the first debate.

Poll: 89% Of Debate Viewers Tuning In Solely To See Whether Roof Collapses

HEMPSTEAD, NY—Explaining that the American people showed relatively little interest in learning more about the nominees’ economic, counterterrorism, or immigration policies, a new Quinnipiac University poll revealed that 89 percent of viewers were tuning into Monday night’s presidential debate solely to see whether the roof collapses on the two candidates.

New Study Finds Solving Every Single Personal Problem Reduces Anxiety

SEATTLE—Explaining that participants left the clinical trial feeling calmer and more positive, a study published Monday by psychologists at the University of Washington has determined that people can significantly reduce their anxiety by solving every single one of their personal problems.

Trump Planning To Throw Lie About Immigrant Crime Rate Out There Early In Debate To Gauge How Much He Can Get Away With

HEMPSTEAD, NY—Saying he would probably introduce the falsehood in his opening statement or perhaps during his response to the night’s first question, Republican nominee Donald Trump reported Monday he was planning to throw out a blatant lie about the level of crime committed by immigrants early in the first presidential debate to gauge how much he’d be allowed to get away with.

Rest Of Nation To Penn State: ‘Something Is Very Wrong With All Of You’

WASHINGTON—Stating they felt deeply unnerved by the community’s unwavering and impassioned defense of a football program and administration that enabled child sexual abuse over the course of several decades, the rest of the country informed Penn State University Friday that there is clearly something very wrong with all of them.

Strongside/Weakside: Lamar Jackson

After passing for eight touchdowns and rushing for another 10 in just the first three weeks of the season, Louisville Cardinals sophomore quarterback Lamar Jackson has quickly become the frontrunner to win the Heisman Trophy. Is he any good?
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Sob Sistah

Interoffice Memorandum
To: Midstate Staff
From: Herbert Kornfeld
Accountz Reeceevable Supervisa
May 26, 2004

Ay yo:

Stop aksin' me about mah long-lost sistah. Y'all know what I'm sayin', muhfuckaz. Didn't I say in mah last newzpaypa column, don't fukkin' aks me about mah sistah? Sheeit.

Ever since I got our wack client SPJ Communications 2 settle up they Midstate debt by fuckin' whuppin' them ninja Blueshirt muhfuckaz it hire as muscle (peep "Enter Tha Office," January 2004), y'all all be wonderin' what that unseen mysterioso jackass meant when he said mah stone-col' skeelz bustin' tha Office-Fu moves didn't mean shit when it come 2 savin' mah sistah back in tha day. Shit, y'all, I restored tha Midstate honor an' got our $94.71 in tha process. That mo' important foe yo' purposes. If it weren't foe me an' mah superstar collectin' skeelz, Midstate'd hardly show a profit. So fuckin' show some luv. Feel me?

I tends 2 mah own bidness an' don't aks all y'all 'bout yo' own. Tha H-Dog ain't no muhfuckin' gossip. Hell, I don't givva rat's ass about what y'all do afta-hourz. I don't care if y'all gots three dicks. I only innerested in two things: What can y'all do foe Midstate, an' do y'all throw in foe tha coffee fund. Otherwise, stay outta mah grill.

This memo be addressed 2 all tha Midstate peeps, but I gots two of y'all in mah crosshairz 'specially: Dave Adenauer in Shippin' an', ain't no surprise here, that crazy bitch Judy Metzger in Accountz Payabo. Both have long tested tha H-Kool, but I almos' had 2 take these foolz out. I swear, but foe tha grace-a God go those pitiful morons.

G's: Day afta I tells the world 'bout mah run-in at SPJ, I'm walkin' 'cross tha office when that wack Dave call out mah name. I whirls around an' assume tha White Collar Warrior stance. I wuz in a lotta hurt from messin' wit' them sinistah Blueshirtz, but I could still snap into battle mode inna split-second. Murdah so thick in tha air you could taste it, but it obvious tha fool foegot his spoon.

"Hey, Herbert," Dave said. "So, what happened to your sister?"

Only the wizdom o' mah mentor, CPA-ONE (R.I.P., bro) stop me from makin' his dome x-plode wit' a single look. "Dog, sometimez it seemz tha smallest men throw up the biggest obstacles," he once say. "Remembah, they too small 2 mean nothin' real 'bout it."

Mah rage became pity. "I dunno, ya pitiful muhfuckah," I said. "Ya po' pitiful bastard. Y'all so dumb y'all must think Daylite Savin' Time be time-travelin.'"

I thought mah movin' dizplay a' sympathy would defuse the fool, but he only persisted. He aksed me if mah sistah mah twin, if she evil, an' could I teach him tha Office-Fu. So's, I aksed CPA-ONE 2 foegive me an' hurled tha muhfuckah 'cross tha Shippin' An' Reeceevin' department. But he only landed on a huge-ass pile o' Fill Air™ Inflatable Packaging.

Next day, I'm krunchin' tha steady numbahs in mah cubicle when I heard this kinda rustlin' paypa noise behind me. It weren't no spreadsheetz, tho; it wuz Judy Metzger's dry, orange, big-hair perm brushin' 'gainst her blaza. Befoe I could tell her 2 get tha hell out, bitch be layin' a plate o' lemon barz on mah deks.

"Herbert, Dave told me about how you broke down after he asked you about your sister," she said. "I just want to let you know that any time you want to talk, I'm here for you."

Then she started in on some crazy-ass bullshit 'bout how she wuz like mah sistah 'cause she run away from home when she 15 'cause her mama's man touched her funny, an' how she wuz in some God cult out in Utah run by this ol' perv, an' she got touched funny some mo', an' how she wuz a big crackhead, an' somethin' 'bout hitchhikin', then she think God be tellin' her 2 get her shit togethah, then, I dunno, Gerald Luckenbill found her in a basket at Midstate's front do'. Meanwhile, mah Executive Stress Ball's fuckin' unusable now, 'cause all the gel squirted outta it unda mah unforgivin' killah grip.

So, Judy aksed if all her touchy-feely bullshit make me feel bettah, an' I said what you foeget is that I'm a straight-up, funky-fresh P.I.M.P. an' she nuthin' but a orangutan-hair ho, an' she could stop sniffin' 'round mah Dockahs, 'cause she wuzn't gettin' none, an' that she owed me a new Executive Stress Ball. "Bitch," I said, "flag yo' bony ass back 2 Payabo." Then I dumped her barz in tha garbitch. She run out all boo-hoo-hooin', but that's what y'all gots 2 do sumtimes, hand out tha tuff luv. Well, jus' tuff in this case, but I didn't kick her 2 tha curb like I did wit' Dave. CPA-ONE (R.I.P.) woulda been mad proud.

Look, I only gonna say this once, so heads up: I hadda sistah once, but I ain't seen her since she wuz 5. Some say she wuz hijacked by tha Hong Kong mafia, some say some freaky alien Muthaship suctioned her outta tha backyard, an' some say she wuz a casualty of a custody battle between mah mama an' mah daddy. I don't remember much 'bout her, 'cause I be only a shortie when she disappear, but I recalls she wuzn't too down wit' tha Accountin'. When I was rockin' tha Li'l Professor, she wuz off marryin' her Barbie doll 2 her Care Bear. Kinda wack if y'all aks me. But I still gots mad luv foe her 2 this day, an' I hope she alive an' well, maybe managin' her own office somewheres, an' chillin' wit' her own adjustable, natural-light desk lamp, an' hopefully reimbursed foe it, if it hadda be ordered special.

Peep this, y'all: When all y'all mournin' a loss o' some sort, I don't go layin' down a card on yo' deks that say "Thinking About You" or sending y'all a "Pick-Me-Up" bouquet. Respect me like I respects you. 'Cause I knows a lotta y'all gots tha secret mad hate foe that touchy-feely shit, too. A lotta y'all won't admit it, but in yo' time o' need, I seen y'all squirm when Bob Cowan from HR be layin' his creepy eye on all y'all, sayin' "Midstate be here fo' y'all," an' "don't hesistitate 2 aks fo' help." Ain't nobody wanna get so low that they gots 2 go 2 Bob Cowan fo' anythang. It embarrassin', G's. An' tha ones who say s'all cool be pussies or frontin'.

Peace,
H-Dog

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