Rotten Appal Review: What Worked And What Didn't?

Happy Hump Day, my lovely readers and welcome to the Rotten Appal Review! Every Wednesday, the Appalachian State humor publication, the Rotten Appal, puts out new content. The Appal, which has a history of awful and redundant jokes, has become my new Wednesday focus due in part to my annoyance with its lack of quality. Thus, every Wednesday I will take a look at their newest work and give an in-depth critique based on their five newest articles. Together, we'll judge what did and did not work and give them a score. Think of it as helpful criticism as opposed to mirthful derision. (Though, the latter may be more accurate at this point.) But, without further ado, let's jump in and start reading!

The first article that appears under the "Latest" tab is a story about the Legends policeman and his love for Kenny Rogers. While I certainly enjoy the fixation on Kenny Rogers, the joke could have been delivered a little smoother. The concept itself is certainly worthy, but the writing is lazy and awkward.

As for technical mistakes, the title refers to the subject of the story as the "Legend's Policeman" which doesn't really make any sense considering the name of Appalachian's favorite little venue is Legends not "Legend." Though, to be fair, both are decidedly awful.

If I were to make any other quick observations, I must take issue with the description of the officer's facial expressions.

"You can’t tell from Finkle’s plethora of bubbly facial expressions, which consist of “the dead man,” “the coma patient,” and a half smirk when he gets off..."

 Bolding mine. The last statement is far too crass and random to warrant a laugh. While humor is often crass (and rightfully so), satire is meant to be subtle and smooth. This joke, blatantly tossed in there, insults the reader's intelligence and appeals to his fifth grade sense of humor. You can still convey that the police officer is stone faced and hard to please, but it's best to buy into the age-old writing adage, "Show, don't tell."

Moving on to the second latest article, the Rotten Appal takes on the Girl Scouts and attempts to play on their ever-abundant variety of different cookies. Unfortunately, the joke falls short due to the Appal's Achille's heel: blatancy. The joke is that the Girl Scouts are selling cookies made with crack cocaine and that's about all they say. It's an extended one-liner unworthy of an entire article. I did, however, enjoy one of the listed monikers given to the crack-laden cookies, "Tweaker Treats." Had they used that as opposed to the unfunny and in-your-face "F#$%-u-upz" the article may have been a tad bit funnier. (Though, nowhere near chuckle-worthy.)

The last sentence, however, is what kills the joke entirely.

These cookies can be found in your local ghetto and for a limited time only at participating Toys “R” Us stores.

This just doesn't make any sense. Sure, a joke isn't necessarily supposed to be realistic. That's why it's a joke. But a solid, quality joke requires a logical setup in order to be truly hilarious. Stating that the cookies can be found in the ghetto AND Toys "R" Us is confusing. Are you saying that the cookies filled with crack are being marketed towards drug addicts in lower income neighborhoods? Or is your joke that the Girl Scouts are absentmindedly marketing crack to children via a popular toy store? Choose one and run with it but it doesn't make sense to go with both.

Next, there was an article about Blockbuster leaving their lights on. This one almost made me smile which is an infinite improvement over every single other thing that has been put out by the website. What makes this one almost succeed where others fall short is that it plays on the absurdity of reality. It doesn't have to make anything up to be funny and that's what good satire is; it's looking around at existing conditions and events and saying "Look how fucking funny this shit is," albeit slightly more eloquently. Furthermore, I enjoy the reference to late fees and the manager's blissful ignorance of the fact that they will never be paid. It wasn't funny, per se, but it was certainly closer than anything else thus far.

The next article about a slackliner disappearing into a different dimension was another improvement compared to past articles. Again, while not worthy of a laugh, it certainly garnered some amount of amusement. However, I think it could have, like the Girl Scout article, been better put to use as a one-liner as opposed to an entire article. If I were to express any other grievances, I suppose I could have done without the slackliner being naked. It's not really additive to the joke and, once again, appeals to a juvenile sense of humor.

The fifth and last article under the "Latest" tab is a story about the growing tensions between IHOP and Waffle House. While it certainly had promise, it's just sort of boring. The obvious jokes concerning Waffle House's hygiene standards (or lack thereof) and the fact that IHOP contains the word "International" fell flat. Once again, this story could have been effectively reduced to a one-liner while still conveying the same joke.

There you have it, readers. The five latest articles put out by the Rotten Appal are only slightly less unfunny than the plethora of crap that came before them, but I will hand it to them that minuscule improvements have been made. Perhaps in five years, the website may even make someone crack a smile. However, as it stands, the self-proclaimed "humor" publication is only capable of garnering the deadpan facial expression of the aforementioned law enforcement officer.

I give this week's edition 1 out of 5 chuckles and I'm being very generous due to the holidays. So, writers and staff of the Rotten Appal, what do you think? Am I full of shit? Feel free to write in a response and I will post it, unedited up here on my blog. I always welcome feedback and enjoy your critiques. Also, be sure to check in regularly for semi-daily content and share it with your friend, relatives, and former employers. Until next time!

Congress Fundamentally Changed Yesterday and You Probably Didn't Notice

While you were busy fawning over number 35  and/or binge watching Netflix yesterday, the United States Senate made a fundamental alteration concerning filibusters that may change the political playing field forever.

In the wake of GOP-led filibusters on almost every executive-branch nominee, the Senate voted to remove the super-majority needed to cut off debate in regards to filibustering a presidential nomination in favor of a simple majority. 

Now, if you're like me and speak English, you're probably wondering: "What the fuck am I reading?" I don't blame you; it's confusing language and still hard to wrap my head around. Allow me to attempt to explain to the best of my abilities.

In the past, if the President wanted to nominate someone to a cabinet position or to a federal judgeship, one could filibuster the appointment and only a supermajority of 60 votes within the senate could end the filibuster. Now, under the leadership of Harry Reid, an alteration to this rule has been made only requiring a simple majority. Ergo, in a Democratic controlled Senate, the Democrats have complete control over filibusters. This is called the "nuclear option" and its vocal proponent, Senator Majority Leader Reid, has done a complete 180 in terms of his support for the rule change.  I'll allow you to be the judge concerning this sudden change of heart.

As for the rule change itself and its effects on the future, some believe that this sets a precedent that will lead to the elimination of the filibuster altogether.

From Politico:

The Senate’s vote to push the button on the “nuclear option” is unprecedented and is likely to lead to a further erosion of the filibuster in the future. But for now, Senate Democrats haven’t pursued eliminating the filibuster on lawmaking, partially because Republicans control the House and frequently choose not to take up Senate-passed bills anyway.

Whether it changes further in the future or not, this shift in the way filibusters are handled on the Hill is monumental. Please take the time to educate yourselves on the process in which presidential nominees are appointed and decide for yourself if you think this will have positive or negative consequences. (Or, hell, maybe even no consequences....unlikely, though) 

I apologize for the sparse amount of information. I was only made aware of the majority of these terms yesterday evening and have been doing my best to gain a cursory understanding of them so that I could try and inform you, my lovely readers, of your government perpetually confusing actions. Thanks for reading and check out the linked articles for a far more thorough examination of the recent change! 

5 Things We Inexplicably Complain About

Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and with it comes the expectation that we express our thankfulness for various things ranging from family to flat screens. But we often take the easy road out when straining our selfish little brains for something to be thankful for. After all, thanking god for the food on the table seems a little bit like cheating. Perhaps if it was delivered by cherubs to your table while woodland creatures pranced about singing "What A Wonderful World" you might have cause to thank a divine being. Otherwise, it just seems half-assed. Realizing, however, that coming up with creative recipients for our thanks is difficult, we here at The Daily Wit worked long and hard to give you some ideas. And what better way to find something you're thankful for than by looking at shit you normally bitch about? Thus, a list was born. Without further ado, here are five things we inexplicably complain about.

1. Construction

It impedes your drive to work. It wakes you up at 5am. It ruins your favorite views. Construction is like an annoying child that your significant other wouldn't let you put up for adoption. But, much like that child, you are forced to deal with it for the remainder of your life. There is ample reason to bitch about it. It's loud, invasive, and ruins routines on a daily basis throughout the country. The main grievance with construction tends to be its timing. However, no one ever has a better alternative to whatever time they're currently bitching about. Construction in the morning? Goddamit, I'm trying to get to work! Construction in the afternoon? Fuck you; it's lunch time! Construction at night? Fuckkkkkkk, I'm trying to sleep!

We complain endlessly about construction ruining our day, but I think it's just an excuse for us to bitch and moan with unanimous support from everyone around us. Indeed, throwing your hands up in despair ad then looking to the guy in the other lane incredulously is the quickest way to make a bitch-n-moan friend on the highway. Together you can share glances of disgust while pointing at the construction as if it's gleefully slaughtering puppies. It's true; nobody likes construction. But without it, literally nothing around us would exist. We'd be living under trees and eating dead squirrels and still probably be complaining about whoever grew this tree and how it blocks your view of the river.

2. Air Travel

Complaining about air travel is truly baffling. It's literally the one mode of transportation that gets you anywhere you want to go, yet it's somehow an inconvenience when you choose to do it. Ah, there's the caveat. You fucking choose to do it. Unless you're a high-powered businessman (you're reading my blog; you're not) you never HAVE to travel by air. You could just as easily drive there, albeit spend more time on the road. But, no, you chose to spend exorbitant amounts of money to fucking fly in the air to your destination and make it there in, like, 30 fucking minutes. And yet, when we get to the airport, we're automatically angry and stressed about every little thing. Your luggage is slightly over the weight limit? IT'S A GODDAMN CRISIS! Everyone around you now has to deal with your shitty attitude because you couldn't travel to Denver without your 10 pound biography of Steve Jobs.

As the holidays approach, this complaint will become more and more relevant. If you hate air travel, allow me to deliver some advice: Don't fly on a plane. Drive to Thanksgiving. Sure, it's more dangerous, possibly more expensive depending on how far away it is, and statistically more likely to make you want to kill your children, but at least you won't be sitting in first class bitching about how the only in-flight movie is "After Earth."

3. Fast Food

On the topic of easily avoidable irritations, fast food is one of those widely accepted complaints that everyone can enjoy bitching about. I mean, it's a fattening, corrupt industry. What's not to hate? But, much like air travel, no one is forcing your fat ass through the door. (And, if they are, you need to talk to someone) Ever since the documentary, "Super Size Me"demonstrated the harmful effects of fast food to the general public, Americans have gotten their collective panties in a wad over the industry. Which is absolutely fucking ridiculous. What, you mean stuffing your face with 90% sodium french fries is BAD for you? Holy shit on a stick! Fast food is quite obviously a terrible alternative to just about any other activity, but it's not like this is a big fucking secret. Hell, even McDonald's doesn't believe it when it tells people that they have "healthy options." It's a crock of shit (and a side of carbs) that their underworked PR people put out there to create the semblance of normality. But you know as well as I do that eating fast food is like swallowing a cancer pill.

Pictured: Cancer.

But that's ok! Just because it's shitty for you doesn't mean that it's not worth eating it every once and a while. But don't be a raging dickhead by bemoaning fast food to everyone you see and rambling on about its harmful effects. The majority of the literate population is quite cognizant of this and is eating their cancer quietly. Bringing it up every five minutes just demonstrates your own hypocrisy because we all know you had Wendy's last week. Own up to it and enjoy the tumors in 30 years.

4. "Kids these days..."

Listen, baby boomers, we get it. Your dream of bringing about social change and political upheaval didn't go exactly according to plan. But don't take out your failures on the newer generations. Sure, millennials are some of the most self-indulgent navel-gazers on the planet (I should know; I'm one of them). But for god's sake, stop bitching about every single damn thing we do. You want to know why we aren't as "respectful" and why we're "self-absorbed?" Because we were raised in a society that YOU created. Don't blame us for your shitty leadership. Furthermore, stop whining about the fact that we're on our phones and computers all the time. You fucked up the environment and tore a hole in the ozone layer, not us. We're inside because we don't want to breathe in the shitty air you created.

"I just don't see why you won't play outside!"

Laugh all you want at Occupy Wall Street, but it's the result of your careless handling of white collar crime and corruption within the banking industry. Oh, and before you make a joke about us living in our mothers' basements, perhaps you shouldn't have raped our economy to the point where finding a job is about as easy as finding $2.00 gas. (thanks for that too!) The point is, we're working our asses off in school and entry-level jobs to clean up the mess you created. Perhaps instead of sitting around and mumbling about how shit used to be better, you should be telling us what not to do. Though, believe us, we're quite aware of that after watching you fumble and fuck up everything that this country once held sacred. Just retire, live off of the dwindling social security that we'll never get and let us take it from here.

5. The movie version of the book

The book is always better. This is one of those universal truths similar to "The sun rises in the east" and "Adam Sandler movies are awful." We all know it and we all, for the most part, accept it. So, please, for the love of all that is holy, stop fucking telling us. Clearly the movie version is going to be subpar compared to the book, especially if you read the book first. The narrative structure of a book allows for an infinitely larger amount of explanation and description that a movie just doesn't have the time to encompass. But that doesn't make the movie version inherently bad. A film version of a story isn't supposed to be an exact visual representation of what was written down in the book. Rather, think of it as a visual interpretation of the story.  This way, one can look at the book and the movie as two separate entities and judge them as such as opposed to pitting them against each other in some nonsensical battle.

Beyond the mere stupidity of trying to justify why the book is better, it's just generally annoying. Having been to more than one midnight premier, allow me to express my irritation at every pretentious moron that walks out of the movie, dressed as Harry Potter and loudly complaining about the omission of some minute detail. So Harry's shoes weren't the same size as they were in the book. Fuck you and fuck the fact that you even know something like this. If you wanted to get every detail from the book, why don't you go and read the goddamn book? Stop going to movies with impossible expectations. Instead, go and enjoy a different creative outlet and accept the fact that movies and books will never be on the same playing field. You wouldn't go to a baseball game and complain about the lack of tackling would you? Though, this would make an otherwise snooze-worthy game slightly more bearable.

Thank you for reading! As always, be sure to like and share my posts with your friends, family, and deceased relatives on Facebook, Twitter, and whatever other life-sucking social media platform you use. Also, make sure you follow me on Twitter to expose yourself to even more wit in order to satiate your never-ending hunger for TDW. Until next time!

The Rotten Crappal: All The News That's Fit to Shit

Finding an object of derision is like finding your soul mate. You wade through a sea of unworthy candidates until you finally set your sights on the perfect match. Jon Stewart has CNN, I have the Rotten Appal. And while I wouldn't even begin to compare myself to the late night king, nor would I ever compare the Rotten Appal to a news organization as awful as CNN, I can't help but draw the comparison to some degree in order to illustrate how much shit I'm going to give this "humor" website over the next several months. Apropos to shit, it would seem the purveyor of poop has recently found a new muse. It's new bodily excrement that it seeks to capitalize off of is vomit. Yes, it's just as unfunny as poop was.

For clarity's sake and to provide a sort of disclaimer, making jokes concerning the various fluids and solids that exit our bodies is a perfectly reasonable way to approach humor. But it requires a modicum of savoir-faire, if you will. Merely tossing in a poop joke for the sake of garnering a 5th grade giggle isn't funny. In fact, it's irritatingly unfunny.

It is my sincere hope that the writers and staff members of the Rotten Appal stumble upon my humble little blog here. And, if all goes according to plan, they eventually will. You see, dearest readers, Wednesday is now dedicated to ruthlessly mocking the never-ending tide of god-awful jokes that spill out of the connoisseur of crap. Every week, the Appal will put out new content, and I will do my very best to tear it to shreds. While this is due in part to my perverse pleasure in tearing apart things I hate, it's also charity work. You see, the Rotten Appal has potential. Perhaps not it's current writers, but the publication as an entity has the potential to be a genuinely funny website. As the Statler and Waldorf to their Kermit, I will do my best to bluntly point out what is and isn't funny. If they're smart, they'll take my advice and work towards a better future. If not, they'll continue to put out trite and unfunny articles like "Top 10 Things Not To Include On Your Resume." (Also, lists are kinda my thing.)

In conclusion, while I hate everything the Rotten Appal currently is, and while my hump day updates will certainly be a reflection of that, I have hopes for the future. I am, after all, an optimist. If (and I mean if) I see improvement, I will be the first to admit it. But, until then, your banality and terrible jokes will be under my constant supervision, and I will have no mercy. Welcome to The Daily Wit.

Update: As I have been made aware that the writers of the Rotten Appal (or at least one of them) have seen my posts, I would like to send them an invitation to write a piece defending themselves which I will then post here on to my little blog, unedited. I am certainly an incendiary asshole, but everyone should have a chance to defend him/herself.

You may Facebook message me (James Chatham) your piece and I will throw it up on the blog immediately, if you so choose.

Rotten Appal Discovers Poop Jokes

Recently launched "humor" "publication," Rotten Appal, has been met with a resounding "oh." After announcing their intentions to produce content "soon" in early March, the website would then spend the next 8 months brewing up comedic genius and satire worthy of the Books-A-Million discount shelf.

But the staff, quickly realizing that writing humor is the hardest form of writing, hit a wall. Months were spent throwing observational comedy of current events up on the Facebook page to no avail.

"We were racking our brains for hours; nothing seemed to work," said an anonymous staff member. "But then (name redacted) went to the bathroom and, ten minutes later, emerged glowing. 'Give me a laptop.' he said. And we did. The rest is history."

Indeed, it would seem that a visit to the porcelain throne was all the Rotten Appal needed to kickstart their website. After the epiphany, the publication eschewed all satire in favor of jokes that involved bowel movements.

"We considered writing jokes that made people think. But that's boring and hard! Everybody likes poop!" stated one enthusiastic staff writer.

Thus, the culture of excrement would begin. It started simple, popping up in random articles. 

2. Pinch Out A Poo In Someone’s Truck Bed

While everyone’s off at the game, creep down to Raley Parking lot, jump into someone’s truck bed, lower your trousers, and do the deed.

The fecal matters were met with overwhelmingly positive response by the community.

"I love the Rotten Appal," exclaimed one fan. "I mean, they get me y'know? Like, I poop too and they totally GET that!"

After receiving such a great response, the website decided to make poop jokes the flagship of their operation. Recent articles like "Disgruntled Cottage Students Defecate in Unfinished Houses" and "Caged Porta-Potty Spotted Outside Raley Hall" have been met with uproarious laughter in all corners of the university.

"I haven't seen satire like this since Vonnegut." said one student, who had really only read the first ten pages of Slaughterhouse Five in high school.

However, slowing down and drinking in its success isn't the Rotten Appal's style. They are moving forward and doing so at high speeds.

"We started strong and we want to continue strong," said a staff writer. "We're already looking at different jokes we can implement into the Appal. We're strongly leaning towards 'your mom' jokes and jokes that end with 'PSYCHE!'"

Wherever the road leads them, it's sure to be littered with success. If you don't believe them, just look at their track record. No one can deny the comedic genius of the Rotten Appal.

Source: Rotten Appal Facebook page.

If you enjoyed this report, check in later for more articles on the Rotten Appal including "Rotten Appal Discovers That High People Get Hungry" and "Rotten Appal Discovers That Appalachian Mountains Are Haven For Meth Cooks"

James Chatham is an intern for The Daily Wit. You can follow him on Twitter (https://twitter.com/James_Chatham) and share his posts on Facebook. 

Joe Biden Doesn't Understand Phones

Joe Biden, the (presumably) second most powerful man in the free world, demonstrated Tuesday night that he is not able to properly call people using the telephone. Biden has been a gaffe-factory for some time now, so this isn't really surprising news. At this point, it's almost endearing.

They're all just praying he doesn't make a vaguely racist comment.

On Tuesday night after the mayoral elections in Boston, Vice President Biden called newly elected mayor, Marty Walsh to congratulate him. He reached Marty Walsh. Much to his surprise, however, this was not the Marty Walsh he was looking for. Hey, people make mistakes right? It gets worse (better). 

Upon being notified that he was speaking to the wrong person, Biden tried a new number. This, too, was not Marty Walsh. In fact, it wasn't even a guy. The cherry on top is that Biden left a voicemail on some poor woman's answering machine. The cherry on top of that cherry? It's been recorded for our listening pleasure. My friends, it is with great pleasure (and slight embarrassment) that I present you with our Vice President being an embarrassing dad that we beg to "Just stop." 

Holler, man!

The Bust of Blockbuster

Long ago, before the age of the internet, there was a place. A place where you could rent movies. A place where these movies were never fully rewound when you brought them back home. A place where you could run around the store, angry that they didn't have the 4th Season of Lost. We called this place many things: overpriced, badly stocked, disorganized. But it had a name that summed up all these points and more: Blockbuster.

A primitive depiction.

Although it was rife with flaws, it became a haven for my generation. Before Netflix, there was the excitement of driving to Blockbuster and picking out a movie to watch with some friends. You'd use your Blockbuster card, barely held together by the shitty plastic it was made with, to check out a couple of shitty movies that you only bought because it said "Partial Nudity" in the rating description. Before you went to check out, there was an assortment of artery clogging snacks to supplement your shitty movie. Such was the weekend routine, and it never failed to be exciting and rewarding every time. A trip to Blockbuster wasn't just an errand; you weren't there to complete a task. No, going to Blockbuster was a ritual. Albeit, one that smelled vaguely of old popcorn and plastic, but a ritual nonetheless.

Don't get me wrong; I welcome progress. The advent of Netflix and Hulu has expanded my entertainment capabilities tenfold. But the adventure of walking into an old Blockbuster with the intent of having no intent is one that I will miss. It is with some sadness that I announce that Blockbuster is closing its remaining stores here in the US. DISH Network, owners of Blockbuster, announced that it will close all of "its approximately 300 remaining U.S.-based retail stores." The biggest surprise came when it was revealed that there were 300 remaining Blockbusters. 

The announcement is bittersweet. On the one hand, it allows the beloved store of our youth to leave with some dignity. But on the other, heavily nostalgic hand, it marks the end of an era. An era in which renting a movie wasn't merely pointing your remote at the screen and choosing whatever popped up first. Finding a movie was just as much an experience as watching it. It was a Friday night activity with friends. It was getting a game and hoping to beat it in the three days you had. It was wandering the aisles and stumbling upon "Evil Bong" and wondering what the fuck it was. It was Blockbuster. 

We here at The Daily Wit salute you, Blockbuster. You shall be sorely missed.