Jason Porter, author of the novel Why Are You So Sad?, brings you a new story every week, each about two minutes in length, because who has time for anything longer than that?
You are what you bring to the table, and you are alone at that table, even if there are other people at that table. They can't help you, except for maybe being able to pass the salt.
It's a brand new season of Grownups Are Lucky, which means absolutely nothing, because we just took the stack of story recipes, shuffled them, and then changed the shit up like we were playing drunken Madlibs. And maybe we were. Who are you to judge? You're the one who can't find anything better to do than to listen to this crap.
As should come as no surprise, this year's season finale doesn't mistletoe the line, when it comes to holiday cheer.
This episode is so stupid you'll feel great about yourself for not being as stupid as this episode.
Death happens. Life happens. Smells happen. Pets happen. Grownups Are Lucky is back after going away just after falsely claiming it was back. Trust nobody, but also, enjoy!
Holy schitz, we're back. Just when you were ready to give up on podcasts that were short enough to listen to while folding no more than ten pair of underwear. We're back, you glorious listener! So enjoy! Because nothing lasts forever.
Companionship can be found. It can be lost. It can be simulated on television.
Trigger warning!: This is about that time you were at that place and you were pretty sure everybody wondered if you were actually invited to be in that place and the whole time you felt like everybody hated you and you still can’t confirm that they didn’t. Enjoy!
The entire Grownups Are Lucky content production team dug down deep to put together several minutes of wildly unnecessary verbage.
We’re still at it. And we still have no idea what it is. But also it is you, listening, and then saying to yourself, “They are still at it, and I have no idea what it is.”
You’d be surprised who people think you look like in another part of the world where people don’t look like you.
This week’s episode includes a bad German accent, unsolicited life advice, and a puzzle!
This week’s story can’t be bothered. If you want this thing in your living room you’re going to have to do the heavy lifting yourself.
When you find yourself asking yourself, “what is the worst that can happen?” the answer is probably lots of terrible things.
Some people go places and then things happen to them and those things are bad for them, but not necessarily bad for their predators.
All the elves are on furlough, so this is the best we could come up with, and let’s be honest, it’s a disappointment, but you’re used to that by now.
Here is a story about a depressing sounding place where a kid is asking questions and his stuffed friends are doing their best to give some sound advice.
Oh man, maybe things are getting better, but are they not also getting worse? Mathematically speaking, really bad + fucking horrifying + inhuman - a few bad people perhaps temporarily = still very bad.
Why am I burdened with the anxiety of every little bit of knowledge slipping away from us? Also, why am I asking you?
Dumb stuff blurs along in shapes and sounds you reassemble in your imagination because it’s a gift your brain gave you, and because you’re bored, and secretly anxious and fed up and scared and tired and nearly deceased. Enjoy!
It’s so hard to buy things and feel like a winner when buying things makes you feel like a loser.
The new normal is still the old normal which under normal circumstances will probably end in our extinction. But think of the clearance sales!
Are we still doing this? What is this? When is tomorrow? Who ordered this pizza?
An unusual engagement announcement springboards off of speculation on butterfly coitus.
People used to go to large auditoriums and crowd near each other, screaming out mists of germs while rubbing elbows and swaying against other bodies while handsome musicians sang about banal lusts.
If you are giving a gift it is a good idea to brand it with an identifying mark in case somebody tries to steal it and later on you run into the thief in another time zone.
These days lifting oneself up by the bootstraps means performing your own medical procedures on yourself with money you had to borrow from Aunt Helen.
This is one of those cute stories where you think: Well, I guess that was cute, if you are into that sort of thing in a miniature story.
We are all barely here for barely any longer, but that still might be a long time, like however long the dinosaurs were here, and maybe still are.
Why do we assume that aliens will find us attractive? I don’t even find us attractive.
We can’t promise it won’t sting a little to ponder olden times when you could casually browse the bulk section of a supermarket and maybe even flirt with another human without wearing rubber gloves or having to say, “where’d you get that mask?”
It’s so much pressure figuring out how to spend our winnings. Good thing we’re all going to die.
There were lots of stories in our reserve tanks, but our reserve story tanks didn’t anticipate this exact hellscape, so now everything seems ill-fitting and or tone deaf. But then again , what doesn’t? This crappy endeavor is still free, so we stopped caring. But not about you. We care about you. Stay safe.
An epic fight between human and arachnid with potentially grave consequences for past and future sexual partners, all rendered in exactly 250 words.
Isn’t it crazy that given the small amount of time we have to live we choose to spend any of it watching game shows?
We are driving toward, or at least near, a cliff, and if you were to ask this driver, some of the trucks don’t look so safe.
The person to whom we have ceded all power is emotionally stunted and in steep mental decline.
We really don’t know if, how, or when our shit is going to hit the fan, so we should probably catch up on the back log of television programs and then maybe pick up some canned goods. Maybe also one of those new shit umbrellas.
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