What's happening, Trash Pandas? Welcome to another edition of THE TRASH REPORT. I am Elinor Jones, here to lovingly yell at you about some weird things happening in the news in an attempt to make them funny, thus brightening your day (with the humor) and my day (with the validation). What's the point of living in the end times if we can't enjoy ourselves? It's the tail end of tomato season and I just spent my paycheck on all the necessary ingredients to eat nothing but caprese salad for the foreseeable future. No regerts!
Now, let's get to the garbage.
Who's the Handsomest of Them All?
Is everyone sick of talking about the mug shots yet? Me neither! So, as everyone knows, former President Donald Trump and his ragtag gang of gangsters were booked last week in Georgia for attempting to meddle in the election there. All of the pictures are great for their terrible lighting, underscoring the deer-in-headlights emotions that these disgraced and humiliated former power brokers were likely feeling. Trump's own mug shot has him giving the meanest mean mug I have ever seen, which would be almost frightening if it weren't so damn funny. Personally, I most relate to lawyer Jenna Ellis, who looks honestly radiant in her mug shot, smiling from ear to ear. Or not just smiling—beaming. Glowing, even, and not only from the harsh prison lights. I definitely would have done the same! The whole world was anxiously waiting to mock these photos; may as well look your best, right?
President Joe Biden usually keeps remarkably mum about the handful of criminal cases stacking up against Trump, but when asked a couple days ago about the mug shot, Biden demurred "Handsome guy. Wonderful guy." That right there—look, Biden's got his issues and I've got some things to say about all of those, but that comment, after months of silence on the matter, fucking rules. "Handsome guy, wonderful guy." ICE. COLD. Damn.
The Trash Report Reports on Trash
An organization called Ocean Cleanup last week had its most successful day yet, pulling over 25,000 lbs of debris from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. For those unfamiliar, the Garbage Patch is roughly twice the size of Texas and mostly consists of discarded plastic. So if anyone ever lost a flip flop on a cruise, that 25,000 lbs of debris might be a good place to start looking.
Speaking of the sea, California's hottest new sex club has been discovered! Bad news, though: it's two miles below the surface of the ocean, and it's for octopi. Dubbed "The Octopus Garden," obviously, it's a spot where normally reclusive mollusks get freaky, but not because—or not only because—they're horny; apparently they figured out that if they mate near a warm lava vent, the babies will hatch more quickly. Genius! If sitting on a volcano would have shortened my pregnancy from the 41 hellishly slow weeks that it was, I for sure would have been down. Can we get some OBGYNS on this?
And because I'm on a nature kick, check this tweet:
Now known as the Bocksten Man, this body was remarkably preserved for 700 years. Here’s how archaeologists were able to put a face to the mysterious man in the bog— National Geographic (@NatGeo) August 22, 2023
Without clicking through, I think it's safe to assume that the Bocksten Man died from having seen the future and learned that photos of him would be distributed in which his hair looks like absolute fucking shit, so he walked into the bog and stayed there. See, this is why Jenna Ellis smiled in her mug shot! She might be dumb, but she's not stupid.
Celebrities: They're Just Like Us! Dying.
Beloved Price is Right host Bob Barker passed away over the weekend at the ripe old age of 99. The man who served as our loving caretaker when we were home sick from school while our parents were at work, Barker died exactly how you would have predicted: falling off the top of a mountain while yodeling.
Also dying appears to be the career of celebrity manager Scooter Braun, who was just axed by such stars as Ariana Grande, Justin Bieber, and Idina Menzel. (I didn't realize Idina Menzel was in Scooter's portfolio, and I'll give Scooter one thing: she certainly wasn't called Adele Dazeem twice!) Anyway, the only logical explanation for the mass exodus is that a bunch of millionaires all suddenly at the same time realized how embarrassing it was to engage professionally with a guy named "Scooter."
Scooter took to social media to try to appear breezy and chill about the whole sitch, but instead gives a very "you'll never believe this incredible idea I have for a giant musical festival on a tropical island" vibe:
On that note, Fyre Fest II might happen! Fresh-ish off his stint in jail, Fyre Fest mastermind Billy McFarland has announced plans for a sequel in December 2024. He bragged the the first round of presale tickets has already sold out, which to me seemed dubious. As it turns out, there were only 100 in that batch, and I'd bet my cold deli sandwich served open-faced in a styrofoam box that those were all grabbed up by greedy media outlets who want to be sure one of their people is there to report on whatever wildness goes down. (It's me. Hi. I'm media outlet. Can I go??????)
The highest birthday wishes are in order for beloved Portland dive bar The Sandy Hut, which recently turned 100 years old. And for it being a bar I frequented during my wild 20s, when I saw the pictures of the interior here I went oh, that's what it looks like? From my memories, the air always used to be blurred by cigarette smoke just like my vision was blurred by vodka tonics and questionable judgment. Happy happy birthday to a cherished Handy Slut!
In other local news, try getting this out of your brain:
Corn for breakfast. Corn? For breakfast??? Corn for breakfast! Much like the missed connections writer, I too now am still thinking about this. Did they eat it in lines, like a typewriter? Or in circles, like a rotisserie chicken? Or freestyle, like how I eat corn, much to the disgust of everyone I've ever eaten corn with? And the writer seemed to have taken pains to say that the eater was sitting in the driver's seat traveling eastbound, but not necessarily driving. Were they pulled over on the side of the highway to eat the corn? SO many questions. I'd love more information, if anyone has it. But I'm also fine not getting more information. This is such a beautiful thing to daydream about.
On that note, I will leave you all to imagine your own breakfast car corn scenarios, which ought to make for a gorgeous Monday. Thank you for reading and for all being tied for my best friend.
Yours in car corn,