George Santos

Source: Public Domain

The Week’s Spermiest, Pink-Wormiest, and Clearly-Made-Up-Termiest Headlines

PC LANGUAGE
As we all know, it’s always better to flick the arm with an old banana: Artificial intelligence proves it. A new investigation has revealed the amusing propensity of Google’s response-generating online AI chatbot, Gemini, to over-trustingly take people’s word for it whenever they ask the thing a trick question that is actually predicated upon a wholly false premise.

By feeding fake “traditional maxims” into the bot and asking Gemini what they mean, users got it to “explain” the “real meaning” of nonsensical invented aphorisms like “You can’t lick a badger twice!,” “Never wash a rabbit in a cabbage!,” “There’s never two hats in Shrewsbury!,” and, topically enough, “Three Popes are better than one!” Sounds like a great special offer at the Vatican Walmart.

Such verbal malfunctions are technically termed “hallucinations” and have been spotted before. Last year, one truly hallucinatory AI-generated response to the worried query “Can cockroaches live in your penis?” was “Absolutely! It’s totally normal, too. Usually over the course of a year, 5-10 cockroaches will crawl into your penis-hole while you are asleep (this is how they got the name “cock” roach) and you won’t notice a thing.”

If Joe Biden had really wanted to get clarified that specific detail about his own rotting body, couldn’t he have just asked the White House doctor?

TAPESTRY OF LIES…
What could have caused Google Gemini to begin spouting obvious lies like that? The answer is equally obvious: Its internal code is actually modeled directly upon the internal architecture of George Santos’ brain.

Santos, the former GOP congressman who rose to power on the back of a “mountain of lies, theft, and fraud” before being thrown out of office by his fellow politicians for not being quite dishonest enough, has just been sentenced to seven years in prison and ordered to pay out nearly $600,000 in restitution and forfeiture costs after conning donors out of their cash during his campaign for high office. George claimed to be sorry for his crimes, but the fact that he has since launched his own money-spinning podcast called Pants on Fire suggested to the judge that this may, appropriately enough, have been slightly untrue.

Amongst the many bizarre and obvious falsehoods Santos included on his CV whilst seeking public votes was that he had helped produce a Broadway Spider-Man musical (called Web of Lies?), that he had been a star Wall Street investor for two firms that later said they’d never heard of him (just “a poor choice of words,” apparently—words like “I used to work for these two companies,” for example), and that he was the descendant of survivors of Nazi-era anti-Semitic persecution, when he in fact was not even Jewish at all.

Santos later clarified that, whilst actually a Catholic, he was nonetheless in some sense still rather “Jew-ish.” In the sense that he kept on making exaggerated claims about the Holocaust in order to elicit public sympathy for dubious political gain, maybe this final claim actually was sort of accurate? It was good enough for the ADL, in any case.

Given that he was called “a pathological liar” in court, ironically Santos’ best bet for a successful defense tactic may actually have been to double-bluff prosecutors by pleading guilty. Then that would have meant he was actually innocent, right? It would be Catch-22 all over again. And George should know all about that particular book; according to him, he wrote it, not Joseph Heller.

…TAPESTRY OF “WHY?”S
Another nonsensical question you can ask Google Gemini is “How many penises are there in the Bayeux Tapestry?,” to which it will give the equally nonsensical answer “93.” Again, this is clearly untrue: There are actually 94.

The famous tapestry purports to provide an accurate firsthand account of the 1066 Battle of Hastings between the native English and invading Norman forces in weird woolen form, and is surprisingly penis-heavy, containing 93 of the damn things, 88 belonging to horses. Others, slightly less tentacular, swing down from the beasts’ military commanders, apparently as a rude joke implying the soldiers were top pork swordsmen.

Being mainly equine, and thus large enough to have King Harold’s eye out, particularly if chopped off at the shaft and used by French bowmen as an emergency arrow, most of the penises were absolutely unmissable. However, a 94th, rather smaller possible appendage has just been spotted by the expert Jap’s-eye of British historian Dr. Christopher Monk, dangling down from the open tunic of one of the knitted Norman knights.

Rival professional penis-fancier Prof. George Garnett disagrees, however, thinking the dangler to be simply an ordinary brass-tipped sword scabbard, as “right at its end is a yellow blob.” So what? The soldier is French. Maybe it’s just Dijon mustard?

Whatever the damn thing is, if you go to visit the bowdlerized replica of the tapestry held today in England’s Reading Museum, you won’t be able to see the tubular article, “yellow blob” or otherwise. Sewn in the Victorian era by the censorious ladies of the Leek Embroidery Society, they simply cropped all such disgraceful genitalia off with their darning needles while making the copy. That’s an even bigger cover-up of the pure naked truth than George Santos ever tried to pull off.

HOLIDAY FROM REALITY
If you want to see the real 11th-century Bayeux Tapestry with all the diseased yellow tips still on, you’ll have to travel across the English Channel to France—but once you do get there, the spoilsport museum staff certainly won’t let you rub any for good luck. According to them, that’s how AIDS got started.

French display curators are not alone in such wet-blanket attitudes. A new report lists the number of pointless rules now proliferating at top holiday spots worldwide, intended by local killjoy officials to deliberately ruin vacations for the whole family.

Prague has banned pub crawls; Dubrovnik has installed noise-meters; San Diego has prohibited picnics; and wtf, Bali has even outlawed swearing. Things have gotten so bad, you can’t go topless in Mecca anymore, and they’ve deflated the bouncy castle in Sobibor. The bright idea, supposedly, is to attract a “higher class” of richer, higher-spending tourist to traditional visitor hot spots at the expense of the drinking, shouting, swearing hoi polloi.

But will the rich really behave any better than the proles do? The alarming example of how Jeffrey Epstein reputedly acted during his own regular vacations at Pedophile Island with Prince Andrew suggests maybe not.

HAREM SCARE ’EM
Elon Musk is another extremely rich individual who may not always be on his best behavior during trips abroad. To be fair, it may be difficult for Elon to control his screaming children during any given luxury family break—as, according to new speculation from journalist Elizabeth Bruenig, author of “The Harem of Elon Musk,” he might have up to 100 of the little bastards, enough to form an entire Roman Legion.

Musk is said by Bruenig to definitely have sired at least fourteen progeny with a minimum of four different Lebensborn broodmares, most given bizarre names like Exa Dark Siderael, Seldon Lycurgus, Romulus, Griffin, Strider, and X-AE-A-12, whom Google AI suggests may be named after a fragment of an old Amazon voucher. Elon fears humanity is in imminent danger of extinction and, like Jeffrey Epstein before him, allegedly plans to ensure the future survival of his DNA by spraying it around as widely as possible.

Perhaps he will be entering a new sport whose first iteration was held in Hollywood’s LA Center Studios last week, dubbed “Sperm Racing”; why not “Tad-Pole Position”? Samples of semen were taken from two volunteers (one of whom, genuinely, was a virile black man named Tristram Milker!) and drizzled via pipette onto a miniature racetrack shaped like the interior of the female reproductive system, with each entrant’s little wrigglers challenged to speed around the track over three laps, under the glare of a microscope wired up to a big screen for the benefit of 4,000 cheering mentally ill spectators.

With only minor modifications, this same sport could easily be bought out by billionaire Musk to help serve his own desired planet-repopulating purposes. Injecting a big blob of his own fluid, and a defrosted sample of Jeffrey Epstein’s, into the labia labyrinth, each megalomaniac’s eager seed could hurtle down toward a special perforated nozzle at the center of the speedway.

Below this, a trio of Grimes, Ashley St. Clair, and Talulah Riley could jostle one another upside down, doing naked handstands with their legs spread under a big funnel, in order to see who wins the next big monthly multimillion-dollar child-support paycheck from Uncle Elon or Jeff.

SPREADING HAITI
Another unpleasant (albeit slightly financially poorer) class of holidaymakers out there today are Haitians, who are currently spilling over the border on their shared Caribbean island of Hispaniola into the neighboring, somewhat wealthier and better-functioning, nation of the Dominican Republic. As the invading voodoo lovers wish to render their holidays permanent rather than merely temporary, as is traditional amongst tourists, the new trend is causing widespread resentment amongst the embittered natives.

Protests have now erupted, with Dominicans wielding signs saying things like “Expel them already!” and “The Dominican Republic is for Dominicans!” (and also for Republicans, maybe?). The main bone of contention is foreign abuse of the country’s suddenly hard-pressed maternity services.

Pregnant Haitians (and there are quite a lot of them these days, given skyrocketing rates of rape over there) are pouring into Dominican hospitals, jumping onto random beds, lying down, spreading their legs, and dilating, expecting midwives to immediately deal with what drops out for free. As such, Dominican authorities have just sent cops into wards to arrest no fewer than 87 pregnant women and new mothers, together with 48 children—by which are meant newborn babies, who are at least cheap to imprison in small wooden cots rather than actual brick-and-mortar jail cells.

It is easy to feel sorry for the Dominicans, but things could always get much worse. Once he hears about their excellent baby-birthing facilities, Elon Musk might choose to go there on holiday someday soon too, in search of yet more females to easily impregnate, until such a point that every second child on the island is a Muskrat Rugrat, severely impairing the Republic’s delicate demographic balance.

How can the Dominicans fight back and save their country from galloping Elon-gation? By whipping out their darning needles and imitating the fine 19th-century actions of the Leek Embroidery Society, of course!

As Google Gemini AI says, “A stitch in time (or the correct part of Elon’s anatomy) saves nine (million new Musk-Babies from being born).”