6.Will drop the song that single handedly releases us from the grasp of 2020’s bad juju.
7.What Tyler will win for his tiktoks of his cat Peanut Butter.
8.One of the Pittiful News writers will finally get a kiss from this handsome gentleman underneath the 2021 Christmas mistletoe.
9.Will be discovered as an anagram for “The Writers of the Pittiful News”.
10.The name of your new furry friend.
11.People will finally stop bashing this brand of boot because they finally learned how to wear combat boots correctly (You have to wear tall socks people. You can’t wear ankle socks in boots, that’s why your ankles are torn up.)
15.What franchise will expand tenfold with a series of exciting installments that will enchant and amaze America.
17.This social construct will disappear.
1. What law will pass this year.
2. I will get.
3. This article of clothing will make a comeback.
5. My father will complain about ____ to the cat.
12. This hot 2020 trend will make a comeback.
13. The next hot flavor of Activia probiotic yogurt.
14. This person will continue to be my favorite Steeler/TikTok icon.
16. This artist will come back with some more depressing bops.20. The name of the striking gentleman who will join the Pittiful News in 2021.
Your zodiac sign can say a lot about your personality, including what nasty holiday staple you resonate with.
Capricorn – Jello Salad: The dessert your grandma brings out and it just looks like jello but you cut it open and there’s vegetables and mayonnaise in it, but the lime green jello and the whipped cream kinda make it better.
Aquarius – SPAM Stuffing: You kinda don’t know what’s in it and it’s just a mess of everything your mom had leftover, but somehow always tastes pretty good anyways.
Pisces – Green Bean Casserole: You take some every year just because it’s there and you think you’ll want it, but you eat two bites and then eat everything else instead. Usually someone else offers you a scoop of it.
Aries – Cranberry Sauce *with Pulp*: It’s actually so good but nobody likes it, especially because it has actual cranberry chunks in it. Too tart to be dessert but too sweet to be dinner. Never fails to be at the table.
Taurus – Flake Mashed Potatoes: They come from a box instead of handmade. You wish you liked them but they just don’t feel right, but you can tolerate it with some gravy
Gemini – Mincemeat Pie: Is actually a dessert?? Sounds good but there’s BEEF in it! But sometimes there isn’t beef in it and it actually sounds kinda good.
Cancer – Eggnog: tasty but it’s more just like eggy spiced milk.
Leo – Kielbasa with Sauerkraut: Literally my favorite but nobody else likes it. Hard to find good kielbasa. Sauerkraut is good shut up. Leave me alone.
Virgo – Canned Corn: doesn’t really do anything wrong. Very reliable. But also it’s from a can in a pool of corn water. Kinda gross when you think about it, but I still love it.
Libra – Potatoes Au Gratin aka Scalloped Potatoes: Potatoes can’t do wrong, but they’re particularly slimy here. They just kinda do what they want. You can’t control them.
Scorpio – Fruit Cake: Sounds lovely. I think it would taste good but I have no clue because I’ve never had it. Candied fruit is good. I want to enjoy it.
Sagittarius – Corned Beef with Cabbage: actually nasty sorry. Just kinda random, like CORNED beef??? And cabbage? Why this combo and who decided it was a holiday staple. Just eat normal beef please. Spare us.
You know what, at the Pittiful News, we’re bored of the existing lineup of winter sports. They’re so last season. You can only watch a petite Russian girl perfect a triple lutz so many times before you start fantasizing of bigger and better sporting events. Here are a few suggestions we have for the Olympic Committee for the next Olympic winter games:
Frozen chicken: this one is winner-take-all. Players scatter atop a freshly frozen pond and flee as the ground beneath them begins to crack. The winner is determined when the last one on the ice falls through and dies with some bragging rights
Snowball showdown: snowball fight but the snowballs have razor blades within their ranks
Ice Fishing to the Death: It’s Battleship meets ice fishing. Two teams gather on opposite sides of a frozen body of water and begin to extract fish from the still non-frozen water below. They will then begin to throw the fish onto the other team’s side until the weight of the losing team and the winning fish causes the ice to break, sending the losers to a chilly and comical end
Speed-glasses-defogging: competitors race to try and defog their glasses while wearing a mask outside in the cold so that they can complete an eye exam. Gold goes to the olympian closest to a 2020 vision range.
Extreme biathlon: it’s like the regular biathlon except when you shoot, the targets are your fellow olympians. Gold goes to the last living skier.
Holiday tradition swapping: Players attempt to do a tradition from another culture
Bumper-tobogganing: as you race down the hill, you score points based on how many times you bump into your fellow tobogganers.
Snowshoe tap dancing: tap dancing with snowshoes
Figure Skating Duels: Regular figure skating, but the skaters also have skates on their hands to slice at the opponent with. Last one breathing wins.
Olympic snowman-building: competitors have a fixed amount of time to build the sexiest snowman.
Olympic snowman-melting: competitors must destroy the previous event’s snowmen in the fastest amount of time
Hot Dog Eating but it’s in the cold
Knife throwing using icicles
Ice Football: Playing American football, but on ice, with skates on
Competitive snow-angel making: Olympians must attempt to recreate biblical depictions of angels while lying on their back in the snow in order to inspire miraculous visions in the panel of judges watching from above without invoking the holy wrath of god. Olympians will be disqualified if their creation goes up in holy flame because it was too accurate to the real thing.
Netflix and chill: hang out with a friend-with-benefits and try to not catch feelings
Hot-Chocolate hands: That game where you slap the back of your foe’s hand until one of you quits but you are actually throwing mugs of scalding hot cocoa (swiss miss no added sugar) at one another
Cross-country skiing but you don’t get to use the stupid sticks. Shuffle like a man.
Nativity scene freeze tag
The fear chamber from Divergent
The Candor truth serum from Divergent
The Train Jump From Divergent
Live for a month as an Abnegation citizen from Divergent
Spend an hour with 3 people from Erudite from Divergent
Freezing hell over
Tea bagging idk sounds warm and cozy ask an older sibling
Winter Beach Volleyball: medals awarded to the three players who have not yet contracted a cold-related illness (frostbite, hypothermia, etc.). Also, have I mentioned that they must play in their swimsuits in the snow?
God confusing: Spin in circles while people shout different names of gods at you, you must yell back what mythology they are from
Thanksgiving leftover eating: eat all of the leftovers from the most recent thanksgiving, most competitors will die from food poisoning
Winter swimming relay race: speed does not matter, competitors must swim back and forth passing a baton for as long as possible, if one member of your team dies, you are eliminated, last team standing wins
By Lord Tyler Sikov, Savannah Teman, and Sarah Yule
I recently noticed that the next post we make will be our 500th on the website. I thought that we should make this into a special occasion, so some writers have gotten together to come up with ideas for what to write. Email us at email@example.com to tell us which of these you want to be our 500th post.
How to Live In Ikea
Your Spotify Wrapped: Kidz Bop Modified
Marie Kondo’s Guide To Covid. How To Purge The Virus
Top 500 Homoerotic Crosswalk Interactions
50 Ways to Say Goodbye by Train, 10 times
A transcript of a Zoom recording of one of our meetings, tangents included
Stand-up Comedian Tier List
Sit-Down Comedian Tier List Because Ableism Sucks
Favorite Junior/School Edition Musicals
How many Dunkin’ coffees will I have to skip in order to afford a decent nose job in New York State?
I Lived as a Muppet For a Day: Here’s What I Learned
True life: my strange attraction to Vince Vaughn (specifically Fred Claus era Vince Vaughn)
Defective Cat For Sale: No Bark Just Bite
What Nasty Holiday Food You Are Based On Your Zodiac Sign
How to write a group article
Where did my dad go?
My lust for Oscar the Grouch has the same limit as Cookie Monster’s lust for cookies, no limit
Why any of musical mastermind Dua Lipa’s songs could have sold very well as singles
How to cool down your pizza roll without biting off the corner and huffing like a little whore
How to huff like a little whore
Why Marley was the biggest villain of all the villains in Glee
I know too much about radula
I took a long winter break
Hufflepuff support group
My life as a Leo apologist
What to write about for your 500th article
A 7th article about being in a cult
Secondary uses for your cat
Mashed potatoes and other funny sounding foods
A day in the life of a Pittiful News Writer: Russian Prison escape edition
Upgrades to Pitt’s campus
What to write for our 1000th post
Imma go get a coffee
Imma commit voter fraud
Imma commit tax fraud
I assassinated the President of the United States
Flat Stanley spread the coronavirus (we have photograph proof)
It has come to my attention that this will be our 500th post. Welp, we’ll get ‘em next time.
I was fresh on the scene of Tinder when it happened. Desperately swiping through Pittsburgh plugs to find my husband-to-be, I got a notification on Instagram. Alarmed because I never use the app other than to hate-watch the feeds of Bella Hadid and the like, I clicked on the notification banner with fear in my heart. As it turns out, I had reached a milestone in my journey to desirability: I may never match with a single soul on Tinder, but someone had finally slid into my DMs!
Sure that my Prince Charming was on the other side of this message thread, I sent a reply right away, before even really reading what he had written; his name was Brad, and that was enough for me. I wrote something along the lines of “Hey there ;) wanna know what I’m wearing??”
Then I read the message.
My basically-fiancee had initially sent me this: “Hi! I was wondering if you were willing to put your name down to back the red this November.” And that was it. No winky-face, no “u up?”. Nothing. Nada. I had no butterflies in my stomach. Just questions. A metric fuck-ton of questions.
First-off, was this Brad guy referring to the hammer-and-sickle type of “red” or the go-back-to-where-you-came-from kind? The two are quite different, but I’m not sure I’d fancy romantic involvement with either, even at this juncture in my desperation. Secondly, what on my feed would lead Mr. Brad to believe that I would in fact want to “back the red”? Was it the pictures of my cats? If so, which ones? Which cat? I concluded that reading too far into Brad’s inquiry would open a can of worms that would kill any chance of romance between us, so I just kept up my side of the one-sided flirtation, saying “My roommate is away for the weekend ;))”. You see, Brad was all about making the first move when it came to winning a vote on Nov. 3, but now that I was ready to go all-in for him, he was nowhere to be seen. I called him out on this inability to commit and again, nothing in response.
I was just about fed up with my communist/republican e-boyfriend at this point, and I went back to my DMs to break it off. That was when I saw that Brad’s messages to me had disappeared. Similarly, his account wouldn’t show up when I searched for it either. Even worse, my WhitePages Premium search came up empty as well. I guess my cyber-lover had come to terms with his hypocrisy and made the decision to deplatform himself. I can only applaud that choice on Brad’s end, but I am left with the question of what could’ve been to ponder for the rest of my days. I guess it’s back to Tinder for me, wish me luck!
Let me confide in you, my loyal reading public: I’m scared. I’m really scared. I might even go so far as to say that I’m downright frightened. Maybe not quite terrified, but it’s getting there. I’m on the cusp of terrifism. It’s a horrifying state to be in.
I went outside today – which alone is newsworthy – to find a brave new world. Everyone around me, from the garbage man to the construction worker to fancy lady Francine “la damme française” Laderoute and even Fanny and Lady, her dogs, were wearing masks. Even the sidewalk had a mask on it, suggesting that it too was in on the plot. I longed to return to the safety of my closet, but I put on a brave face. I had made a commitment to several strangers that I had met on the r/Pitt subreddit that I would meet them to toss around a frisbee, like normal college students are supposed to do.
To my horror, they too were wearing masks. How did they expect to catch any frisbees? With their hands?
They just stared at me judgingly. I glanced nervously between them. One of them, a tall boy with astonishingly short legs and a disproportionate torso to make up for it, and a very large, ugly head with eyes that seemed to be two different sizes and ears that seemed to be two different shapes, one like a boat and the other like a camera, and hair that seemed to have been styled in the form of an elliptic paraboloid – what was I saying? Anyway, this guy seemed to be the least judgmental and kindest of the group, so I tossed my frisbee at him.
Surprisingly nimble for his little dachshund legs, he dodged away and said, “Dude, we’re not frizzing with you if you aren’t going to wear a mask.”
What were they all hiding behind the masks? I guess I had been in that closet for a long time. Do people still have mouths? Are mouths taboo? Did some serial fruit-placer go around putting orange slices in mouths across Pittsburgh, creating a need to cover one’s mouth constantly in fear of the orange slice placer? Or maybe aliens have invaded, and they were able to replicate every part of the human body except for the mouth, and I’m the only real human left? But then why would they want me to wear a mask, shouldn’t they want to keep me marked as a true human for future brain autopsies or for a spare member on their Wednesday night human pop culture pub trivia team?
Whatever it was they were hiding, I knew I had no similar need to wear a mask. I felt my mouth to make sure it wasn’t replaced with a garbage disposal or a plastic bag or a mirror or something and, finding my mouth wet and squishy as usual, picked up my frisbee and went home. I don’t think I’ll come out again for another few months, maybe masks will be out of fashion by then.