Let’s see who needs a pat on the back and who needs a slap in the face. Keep the letters coming to editor@worldweeklynews.com.

CRYBABIES!

Dear Dotti, 

I’m a great stay-at-home Dad, but moms shun me at the park ‘cause my kids swear and throw toys! How do I get a playdate in this town full of crybabies? – Signed, Good Dad, Perfect Kids, No Playdates.

Dear Can’t Take the Hint, 

I can smell your annoying energy from here. Ask the Mom-squad how to stop your kids from hurling toys across the sandbox, and you’ll be asking me how to get the moms to shut up. Get your kids in line, and playdates will roll in. And stop swearing around your kids, damn it!
— Dotti.   

ROAD RAGE!

Dear Dotti, 

I’m medicating my road rage by meticulously planning the murder of every driver who cuts me off. I’m pulling plates off my dash cam and compiling addresses. My wife is concerned, but I think vigilante justice is the only way. We’ve agreed to take your advice because it’s cheaper than marriage counseling. – Signed, Dash-Cam Devil

Dear Devil, 

When you’re done hunting down the scum clogging our roads, can I borrow your dash cam? Your plan will cost your marriage, and much, much more, but consequences are such a buzzkill. Here’s a tip: Spend your money on the defense lawyer before the divorce lawyer. Your wife’s testimony will be hard to refute.
— Dotti

ESSENTIAL OILS?!

Dear Dotti, 

I attended a party on my block for “up-and-coming female entrepreneurs,” and now I have to sell essential oils or else they’ll be “poured down my throat.” I had to invest three grand just to leave the party! They told me I’m pretty and full of untapped potential. What should I do?  – Signed, Oregano Oiled Up. 

Dear Oregano,

“Untapped potential” is MLM for “still has money.” Unfortunately, you’re in the downline now, and the only cure is to fake your own death. If you can’t handle that paperwork, relocate somewhere where flattery won’t cost you three grand. I recommend remote Alaska. If anyone approaches carrying lavender and opportunity, put on your snowshoes and run.  
—Dotti

Till next time, America.
— Dotti.

The post DEAR DOTTI – AMERICA’s MOST OUTSPOKEN COLUMNIST 6.03.26 appeared first on Weekly World News.

The United States Postal Service – you know, the outfit that’s been losing money since the Pony Express filed for bankruptcy. Now they want to deliver your birthday card from Aunt Gladys with a buzzing, camera-eyed DRONE that looks like a mosquito on steroids! They say it’s “the future.” I say it’s the fastest way to get me arrested for turning government property into Sunday supper with a side of BBQ sauce!

Picture this, patriots: You’re out mowing your lawn in your American-flag underwear, sipping a lukewarm beer, when suddenly the sky fills with a mechanical locust the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. It hovers over your porch, drops a Victoria’s Secret catalog on your welcome mat, takes a 4K photo of your bald spot for “delivery confirmation,” then zips off to ruin somebody else’s day. That ain’t progress – that’s a flying Peeping Tom with a union contract!

THE GREAT OLD DAYS

Back in my day, mail came courtesy of a real live human being. Usually, it was a guy named Earl who smelled like cigarettes and regret, drove a truck held together with prayers and duct tape, and knew which dogs bite and which widows bake banana bread. Earl didn’t need GPS because he’d been walking the same route since Truman was president. He waved. Earl said “Hot enough for ya?” Earl was America, dammit!

But no, the pencil-neck geniuses in Washington decided Earl costs too much. So they’re replacing him with a plastic helicopter that can’t even handle rain without short-circuiting and crying for a software update. One good thunderstorm and your tax refund is doing the dead-man’s float in Mrs. Kowalski’s koi pond!

And don’t think these sky-rats are harmless. The Postmaster General claims they’re “perfectly safe.” Yeah? Tell that to my cousin Leroy who already shot one down over his backyard in Possum Holler. Thought it was a Commie surveillance craft. Turns out it was just delivering his erectile-dysfunction pills. Now the feds want to charge HIM with destroying federal property. I say give Leroy a medal and a case of buckshot!

What’s next? Drone wedding invitations that crash into the cake? Drone jury-duty notices that tase you if you’re late to court? Drone love letters that read themselves out loud in Siri’s smug robot voice while your wife listens? I’d rather go back to smoke signals and carrier pigeons. At least the pigeons have the decency to crap on your enemy’s car!

ED SOLVES THE PROBLEM

Here’s my plan, and Congress better listen up or I’ll march on Washington with a slingshot and a bad attitude:

1. Keep the drones for delivering to volcanoes and liberal college campuses – everywhere else gets Earl or Earl’s cousin.
2. Make every drone wear a little postal hat so I know which ones are fair game.
3. If one of those whirlybirds buzzes my property again, I’m claiming it as a “mechanical turkey.” And the Second Amendment says I can roast the dang thing!

Until the Post Office comes to its senses, I’ve got my lawn chair on the porch, a cooler of domestic beer, and Ol’ Betsy loaded with rock salt and righteous indignation.

Fly over my house, you battery-powered buzzard, and you’ll be the main course at the Anger family reunion – extra crispy, with a side of freedom fries!

Yours in fury,
Ed Anger
P.S. If you’re reading this and you work for the Post Office – tell your boss Ed said he can take his drone and deliver it straight to where the sun don’t shine!

The post I’M SPITTING NAILS AND CHEWING CHAIN LINKS ABOUT BUZZING POSTAL ROBOTS! appeared first on Weekly World News.

Archaeologists in Greece were left speechless this week after an ancient woman—estimated to be over 2,000 years old—was discovered inside a discarded garbage bag. The bizarre find has stunned experts and left locals questioning how an artifact of such historical significance ended up treated like an empty yogurt container.

From Relic to Refuse

The skeletal remains, believed to date back to the Hellenistic or early Roman period, were unearthed in a landfill near Athens by sanitation workers who initially assumed they had stumbled upon an abandoned mannequin. “At first, we thought someone had tossed an old statue,” said one waste management employee. “But then we noticed the bones were, well… a little too real.”

Experts Dig for Clues

Forensic archaeologists have since taken custody of the remains, which were wrapped in layers of decayed fabric. Initial examinations suggest the woman may have been part of an ancient burial site before somehow ending up in the trash. “This isn’t how we typically expect to find 2,000-year-old bodies,” admitted Dr. Nikos Papadopoulos, a leading archaeologist. “Usually, they’re carefully buried or hidden in tombs, not stuffed in a garbage bag like last week’s leftovers.”

A Case of History Getting Tossed?

Authorities are now investigating how the remains ended up in modern-day waste disposal. Some speculate that an amateur looter might have removed the bones from an archaeological site and, upon realizing their mistake, opted for the least responsible method of disposal. “It’s basically ancient artifact dumping,” said one cultural preservationist. “Not only is it illegal, but it’s also deeply disrespectful. She survived two millennia only to get chucked out like an expired hummus container.”

Recycling the Past the Right Way

While Greece is known for its rich historical sites, this incident serves as a stark reminder of the importance of proper artifact preservation. “If you happen to stumble upon ancient remains, don’t just treat them like a broken toaster,” urged local heritage officials. “Call a museum. Call an archaeologist. Just don’t call your local trash service.”

What Happens Next?

The remains are now being studied for clues about the woman’s life, including her age, social status, and cause of death. Meanwhile, Greek authorities are working to determine if she was illegally removed from an excavation site or if an ancient burial ground was unknowingly disturbed.

Regardless of the mystery surrounding her disposal, one thing is certain: this 2,000-year-old woman has certainly taken history’s strangest ride through the waste management system.

The post RECYCLING GONE WRONG: 2,000-YEAR-OLD WOMAN FOUND IN GREEK TRASH🏺🗑️📜 appeared first on Weekly World News.

Now based in Chicago, Hoyland continues to write, perform, and confound expectations. He lives with his two wives and offers no explanation. His new song, “The Ballad of Stevie Clobber,” which debuts below, considers the recent fate of a certain television star and playfully alludes to his earlier mishearing.

The post WEEKLY WORLD NEWS IS PROUD TO PRESENT “THE BALLAD OF STEVIE CLOBBER” BY BILL HOYLAND. appeared first on Weekly World News.

Introducing: PLASMOIDS GONE WILD!

For the first time ever, witness exclusive, uncensored footage of plasmoids doing what they do best—chaotically defying the very fabric of space-time! This never-before-seen collection captures the wildest plasma behavior from across the cosmos!

FEATURES INCLUDE:
Uncensored magnetic reconnection! Sparks fly as plasma filaments tangle, break apart, and reassemble in shocking displays of raw energy!

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Absolutely no chill plasmas! That’s right—these high-energy, high-temperature maniacs are totally out of control, and we’ve caught them all on camera!

LIMITED TIME BONUS OFFER! “Order now, and we’ll throw in a bonus Coronal Mass Ejection Compilation!

See the Sun unleash billion-ton blasts of plasma in spectacular, unfiltered footage!
But hurry—this offer disappears faster than a solar flare!”

CALL NOW! Operators are standing by! Don’t miss your chance to own the most intense, physics-defying spectacle in the known universe!

“PLASMOIDS GONE WILD!” – Because thermonuclear chaos has never looked this good.

The post SHOCKING SOLAR EJECTIONS! PLASMOIDS GONE WILD! appeared first on Weekly World News.

That’s enough money to buy every hot dog stand in the country and still have change for a yacht! And starting July 1, 2025, colleges can directly pay athletes up to $20.5 million a year in revenue sharing?

Folks, it’s gone way too far. This whole thing is turning our sacred gridirons into greedy corporate pigsties!

NEW HIRES TAKE THE FIELD?

Listen up, you liberal do-gooders and NIL cheerleaders: These football jocks already get full-ride scholarships worth more than most folks earn in a decade. Room, board, books, and a chance to bash heads for fun—ain’t that enough? But nooo, now they’ve got “Name, Image, and Likeness” deals turning ’em into walking billboards for sneakers and energy drinks. And with this new direct compensation from schools, it’s like the NCAA finally caved and said, “Heck, let’s just make ’em employees!”

Next thing you know, they’ll be unionizing, demanding overtime for practice. And they’ll sue for workers’ comp when they stub a toe on the goalpost. It’s ruining the purity of the game! College football used to be about underdogs, rivalries, and that one scrawny quarterback who becomes a legend. Now it’s all about who can score the fattest paycheck before they even graduate.

Don’t get me started on the hypocrisy! The same eggheads running these universities preach about “student-athletes” and academic integrity, but they’re the ones forking over millions from TV deals and ticket sales.

WHAT ABOUT THE LOYAL FANS PACKING THE STADIUMS?

Revenue sharing? More like revenue stealing from the real fans who pack the stadiums!

Us hardworking Joes shell out for season tickets, foam fingers, and overpriced beer, only to watch these prima donnas cash checks bigger than a linebacker’s ego. It’s a slap in the face to every kid who plays pee-wee ball for the love of it, not the loot. If these players want to get paid, let ’em go pro right out of high school. Just like in the good ol’ days. Skip the charade of pretending to study history while counting their endorsement dollars.

Heck, even the polls say most Americans are on board with this nonsense, with broad support for NIL and sharing the athletic dough.

Well, not this American! I’m pig-biting mad because it’s destroying the soul of college sports. Before long, we’ll have bidding wars for high school recruits, agents lurking in dorms, and games decided by who has the deepest pockets instead of the biggest heart. Mark my words: This is the end of amateur athletics as we know it. If we don’t slam the brakes on this gravy train, our grandkids will think “student-athlete” means “stipend-athlete.” Time to fight back, patriots—write your congressman, boycott the boosters, and remember: Real heroes play for pride, not paychecks!

TACKLIN’ TATTLE TALES?

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any loonier, now they’ve launched a “snitch” reporting line for NIL violations, turning college sports into a giant game of tattle-tale where everyone’s ratting out each other like kindergartners fighting over crayons!

What’s next, referees blowing whistles for “illegal endorsement” penalties mid-touchdown? And get this—politicians are introducing bills to ban private equity deals with athletic departments. As if we need Wall Street sharks swimming in the already murky waters of booster bucks.

It’s like trying to fix a leaky outhouse by inviting more skunks to the party! This whole mess has me laughing through my fury. But mark my words. If we let these cash-crazed clowns keep turning stadiums into stock exchanges, soon enough the only “bowl” games left will be the ones filled with overpaid prima donnas’ cereal!

The post I’M MADDER THAN A SQUIRREL IN A NUT-FREE ZONE ABOUT COLLEGE FOOTBALL PLAYERS GETTING PAID LIKE THEY’RE PROS! appeared first on Weekly World News.

The shocking discovery happened last Tuesday, A grizzled fisherman Hank “Hookjaw” McGreevy cast his net into the choppy waters of the Pacific, expecting a haul of the usual slippery suspects. Instead, he pulled up a glistening, wriggling nightmare. He caught a 14-inch monstrosity with the silvery tail of a sardine and the upper body of a tiny, disturbingly human-like figure. It was complete with arms, a torso, and a face that witnesses describe as “hauntingly judgmental.”

“That thing stared right at me,” McGreevy stammered, still clutching a bottle of whiskey. “It had these little hands, waving like it wanted me to put it back. I swear it muttered something about ‘overfishing’ before I passed out!”

LOW TIDE AND REGRET

Local marine biologist Dr. Wanda Fishbourne, who was called to the scene, admitted she’s never seen anything like it. “The creature has gills and lungs, a sardine’s scales fused with what appears to be human skin. And—get this—it smells like a mix of low tide and regret,” she said, holding up a blurry Polaroid of the beast. “This could be the missing link between fish and man—or proof that Mother Nature’s been hitting the sauce.”

Theories about the Sard571ine Sapiens’ origins are swimming wild. Some locals whisper it’s the result of a secret government experiment gone wrong. They pointed to a shady offshore lab rumored to be splicing DNA for “military fish-men.” Others insist it’s a cursed sailor who crossed a sea witch, doomed to live as a piscine freak. A few tinfoil-hat enthusiasts even claim it’s an alien scout, sent to infiltrate Earth’s oceans and judge our canned-fish industry.

Eyewitnesses report the creature was last seen flopping pitifully on the deck of McGreevy’s boat, The Salty Codpiece, before it wriggled free and splashed back into the Pacific, leaving behind a trail of slime and unanswered questions. “It looked right into my soul,” deckhand Jimmy Pike whimpered. “I ain’t never eating sardines again—those beady eyes’ll haunt me forever!”

The Weekly World News tracked down self-proclaimed “fish whisperer” Madame Coralina, who claims to have psychically contacted the hybrid. “It told me its name is Gary,” she revealed, waving a seaweed-draped crystal ball. “Gary says he’s here to warn us: stop polluting the oceans, or his half-human kin will rise from the depths and make us all sleep with the fishes—literally!”

THE REAL DEAL?

As the Coast Guard launches a halfhearted search for the elusive Sardine Sapiens, Oregon’s coastal towns are bracing for chaos. Local diners have yanked sardines off the menu, and bait shops report a surge in sales as amateur monster-hunters flood the docks. Meanwhile, a grainy video circulating online—allegedly showing Gary flipping off a seagull—has racked up millions of views, sparking heated debates over whether it’s a hoax or the real deal.

Is the Sardine Sapiens a grotesque fluke of nature, a harbinger of doom, or just a hideous fish with a chip on its shoulder? One thing’s for sure: the Pacific Ocean just got a whole lot weirder—and smellier. Stay tuned, dear readers, as Weekly World News dives deeper into this fishy fiasco!

The post HALF-SARDINE, HALF-HUMAN FREAK FOUND FLOPPING OFF OREGON COAST! appeared first on Weekly World News.

Christmas shopping used to be wholesome American fun – like a Norman Rockwell painting with a side of apple pie. Now? It’s a full-on gladiator death match in the aisles of Wally-World, complete with blood, sweat, and tears over a $9.99 air fryer!I dragged my aching bones into one of those mega-stores last week to buy a simple gift – a nice red-white-and-blue coffee mug that says “Don’t Tread on Me” – and what happens? I’m barely through the automatic doors when a 300-pound land whale in a “Naughty List” onesie barrels past me with a shopping cart the size of a Sherman tank! She clips my heel so hard I nearly do the splits like some commie ballerina! I yelp, she doesn’t even turn around – just keeps plowing forward like she’s late for the free samples at Costco!

SNOWFLAKES – EACH ANNOYING ONE DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHER

Then there’s the tattooed snowflake brigade – purple hair, nose rings, pronouns in their Instagram bio – cutting in line like they invented rudeness. One of ’em, a scrawny punk with more piercings than a pirate’s target, shoves ahead of me at the checkout with a cart full of vegan eggnog and rainbow wrapping paper. I say, “Hey kid, the line starts back there!” He spins around, flips me the bird with both hands, and hisses “Okay boomer!” Boomer?! I’ll have you know I fought in wars this twerp couldn’t spell! I was ready to introduce his face to my size-12 boot, but the security guard – some soft millennial himself – threatened to call the cops on ME for “creating a disturbance”! A disturbance?! The only disturbance is these rude zombies turning Baby Jesus’s birthday into Thunderdome!

And the screaming kids! Sweet mother of Rudolph, the screaming kids! These little hellions are running wild like it’s Lord of the Flies in the toy section. One snot-nosed gremlin grabs a Nerf gun off the shelf and starts blasting foam darts at strangers! Pelts me right in the ear! His “mother” – if you can call her that – is too busy live-streaming her “holiday haul” to notice. I bark, “Lady, control your demon spawn!” She looks up from her phone long enough to sneer, “Mind your business, Karen!” KAREN?! I’m a 73-year-old decorated veteran, you entitled harpy! Back in my day we’d have taken that kid out behind the woodshed for an attitude adjustment!

CHEERLESS CASHIER

The checkout lines? Longer than the border on a Friday night! I’m stuck behind some coupon-clipping cheapskate arguing with the cashier over a 50-cent discount on canned yams. Fifty cents! Meanwhile, the cashier – a gum-snapping teenager who looks like she just rolled out of a dumpster – is moving slower than Joe Biden up a flight of stairs. I finally get to the front, and she has the nerve to wish me “Happy Holidays”! Happy Holidays?! Lady, it’s MERRY CHRISTMAS, or I’ll take my business to a store that still believes in America!

This is what happens when we let the woke mob ruin everything! No carols, no nativity scenes, just rude, pushy, godless heathens fighting over Chinese-made junk like it’s the last lifeboat on the Titanic!I’m telling you, America, next year I’m shopping with a helmet, shoulder pads, and a cattle prod! Either that or I’m ordering everything from a catalog like a real man and letting UPS fight the crowds!

I’m Ed Anger, madder than a Salvation Army bell-ringer who just got mugged by a gang of atheists, and if one more person cuts me off in the parking lot, I’m ramming their Prius with my pickup truck full of American pride!

MERRY CHRISTMAS, you filthy animals – and get the hell out of my way!

The post ED DECLARES WAR: “GET THESE ELBOW-THROWING MALL ZOMBIES OFF ME OR I’LL SWING MY CART.” appeared first on Weekly World News.

According to several eyewitness accounts, the bunnies were not only animated but exhibited coordinated pack behavior, strategic hopping, and an apparent thirst for blood—or at least warm bodies.

Easter Morning Turns into a Marshmallow Massacre

In what experts are calling the “sweetest nightmare imaginable,” Easter festivities took a sinister turn this Sunday when popular chocolate eggs mysteriously began hatching undead, flesh-hungry rabbits across the nation. What started as innocent basket hunts quickly devolved into a blood-soaked scramble for survival in backyards from Boise to Boca Raton.

Families Report Bunnies with “Too Many Teeth” and “Dead Eyes”

Parents first noticed something was off when their children began screaming during egg hunts—not from joy, but from fear. “I thought it was a prank,” said Sheila Morrows of Tulsa. “Then I saw a bunny gnawing through the trampoline netting. Its eyes were glowing. Like a marshmallow possessed.”

Scientists Blame a “Confectionary Mutation”—But Are Also Hiding in Bunkers

Researchers at the National Candy Safety Bureau (NCSB) have traced the outbreak to a “sugar-fermented parasitic organism” accidentally infused into the creamy centers of mass-produced chocolate eggs. “We were aiming for a fluffier filling,” said Dr. Toblerone Mills, lead investigator. “Instead, we broke the barrier between seasonal treats and the undead.”

Dr. Mills has since gone off-grid, leaving only a hastily scrawled note: “Burn the bunnies. And don’t eat the ears first.”

Authorities Recommend Peeps Sacrifice to Distract Zombie Rabbits

In a desperate attempt to restore order, Homeland Security has partnered with marshmallow manufacturers to offer emergency shipments of Peeps to vulnerable zones. “They’re attracted to artificial colors and unholy sugar levels,” said FEMA spokesperson Bunny Graves. “A well-timed Peep toss can buy you up to 40 seconds of escape.”

Civilians are advised to create Peeps effigies, set them ablaze, and run in the opposite direction while chanting, “Not the sweet eggs! Not today!”

Social Media in Chaos: #Zombunnies Trends as Influencers Disappear

Meanwhile, TikTok and Instagram are flooded with posts under the hashtag #Zombunnies, ranging from bunny bite tutorials to influencers going live—only to vanish mid-stream in a blur of fur and shrieking. One viral video shows a bunny dragging a FitTea ambassador through a decorative hedge while still holding her selfie stick.

Meta has not responded to repeated requests for comment, though Zuckerberg has reportedly renamed his Easter event “MetaMauled 2025.”

Experts Say Crisis May Pass by Arbor Day—or Get Worse by Halloween

While the CDC urges calm, others warn this is only the beginning. “Easter is just phase one,” said underground chocolatier Choco Steve. “Wait until the gummy bears learn how to bite back.”

Until further notice, residents are advised to:

• Avoid all egg-shaped products
• Check backyard bushes for growling
• Keep all jellybeans locked in airtight containers

The post BABY BUNNIES TURN INTO FLESH-HUNGRY ZOMBIE RABBITS appeared first on Weekly World News.

Back in my day, we called a spade a spade and a war a war! Remember World War II? We didn’t “defend” against Hitler—we kicked his Nazi keister all the way back to Berlin! But oh no, after that, some pointy-headed bureaucrats decided we needed a kinder, gentler name so we wouldn’t scare the commies or the French. “Defense” my foot! That’s like calling your shotgun a “peace pipe” or your steak a “vegetable hug.” It’s all part of that globalist plot to turn America into a giant pillow fight. Well, I say bring on the Department of War! Let’s make it official: We’re here to win, not whine!

HOW ABOUT SOME OTHER CHANGES?

And get this—these renaming geniuses probably think they’re being all edgy and truthful now. Truthful? I’ll give you truthful! If we’re renaming stuff, let’s go whole hog. Rename the IRS to the Department of Robbery! Call Congress the Department of Do-Nothing! And while we’re at it, slap “Department of War” on a big ol’ sign with eagles and explosions, just to remind those pinko peaceniks that America’s got teeth sharper than a chainsaw!

But here’s the funny part—and yeah, even ol’ Ed can chuckle through the steam coming out my ears. Imagine the confusion at the water cooler: “Hey Bob, you work at Defense?” “Nah, it’s War now—pass the ammo with your coffee!” Or picture the recruitment posters: “Uncle Sam Wants YOU… to Blow Stuff Up!” Ha! That’ll get the kids signing up faster than free beer at a monster truck rally.Listen up, you tree-huggers and surrender monkeys: This rename is a step in the right direction, but don’t think it fixes everything. We still got illegals pouring over the border like ants at a picnic, and Hollywood pumping out more garbage than a landfill. But at least now, when we send our boys overseas, they’ll know it’s for war, not some fancy “defense” tea party.

NO MORE PATTY CAKE!

Oh, and let’s not forget about those fancy-pants allies of ours across the pond. They’ll probably wet their knickers hearing about our new Department of War. “Oh dear, the Yanks are getting aggressive again!” Boo hoo! Maybe if they spent less time sipping tea and more time building tanks, they wouldn’t need us to bail ’em out every time a dictator gets frisky. This rename oughta send a message: America ain’t playing patty-cake anymore—we’re in it to crush commies, terrorists, and anyone else who thinks they can tango with the stars and stripes!

And speaking of messages, I got one for the media morons who’ll twist this into some anti-peace propaganda. You bet it’s anti-peace—peace through superior firepower, that is! If calling it the Department of War makes one less wacko think twice before messing with us, then hallelujah! Picture the headlines: “U.S. Declares War on Wimpy Names!” I’d frame that on my wall right next to my John Wayne poster. It’s high time we got real, folks—war ain’t pretty, but neither is losing!

America, wake up and smell the gunpowder! Ed Anger signing off—proud, patriotic, and ready to rumble!

The post MY AMERICA, OR LEAVE IT! appeared first on Weekly World News.