Duel on the Town Green
Two men arguing on Nextdoor app agree to duel on the Town Green
Blake Bartholomew and Gary Glassikton agreed to an old-fashioned duel at Town Center following an ongoing Nextdoor argument over a bridge connecting the city center. The Peachtree Corners residents feuded constantly on the well-known app regarding the effectiveness of the now-iconic structure on Peachtree Parkway, which allows residents to cross the busy highway between the popular outdoor shopping mall, The Forum, and the newly built Town Center. Hiding behind their respective computer monitors for nearly three years, the two natives of the affluent Georgia city slung insults and innuendo almost daily about the recent construction, both even bringing unsavory comments about each other’s mothers into the disagreement.
The controversial bridge was completed during the fall of 2020 and has provided the population of nearly fifty thousand people political fodder to hash over using the popular online feature, Nextdoor. Most arguments fizzled out over time, but Bartholomew and Glassikton just couldn’t let go, their disagreement reaching a pinnacle this past week.
“The bridge is essential, functional, and quite striking,” Bartholomew stated. “It’s necessary to bring the two main components of the town together. You can’t have children and our older citizens traipsing across that busy intersection. Someone is going to get killed. And if someone does get killed, why I hope it’s that dern fool Gary Glassikton.”
The Wet Gazette tracked down Mr. Glassikton for his comments.
“That blasted bridge is nothing but an eyesore and a blight on the community!” he roared. “The city went too far, wasting tax payers’ dollars for such foolishness. You just wait! Kids will be going up there and peeing on cars from the edge, doing drugs, and probably having sex too. That bridge is nothing but trouble!”
When it came time for the duel to occur, the two men showed up at high noon but agreed the dispute should be settled with fisticuffs instead of weapons. Bartholomew, a mid-forties overweight accountant, circled Glassikton with fire in his eyes.
“I took a semester of Judo in college, fella,” Bartholomew shouted at Glassikton, a sickly thin IT guy. “The next thing to hit you will be the ground!”
“Oh, yeah?” Glassikton yelled. “I trained for a year in taekwondo, mister. I’ll take your eyes out.”
Bartholomew reached in, grabbing his adversary by the shoulders. Glassikton began paddling his hands towards the accountant like a four-year-old trying to swim. And that’s when Bartholomew stepped in dog poo, slipping like a clown on a banana peel, releasing his prey, and pinwheeling his arms as he fell. A spectator in the crowd, Karen Babbleyak, a librarian and a Nextdoor app lead, went into hysterics.
“This is unacceptable! Residents are required to leash dogs and use waste baggies to clean up after them. I’ll get to the bottom of this!” she seethed.
The crowd stepped back as the unhinged woman continued to rant about rules and regulations and requirements of a well-functioning community. Bartholomew and Glassikton lay in a heap, smeared with an unsightly yellowish-brown muck, the passion for fighting forgotten. All focus was now on the crazed woman.
“Who is responsible for this? I want names and addresses. Whoever allowed their dog to do this better step forward!”
The crowd, including Bartholomew and Glassikton, began to slither away, the collective spirit of the gathering stripped of their ire. The librarian commenced taking snaps with her phone, documenting the crowd, including several spectators with pets.
“That’s right! Run away, people. But it will do no good. I’ll be posting your pictures on the Nextdoor app within hours. This is far from over!”
And that’s how one community controversy segued into the next! Stay tuned! Because The Wet Gazette will be there to bring you the latest on this riveting and what’s sure to be an ongoing dispute as it unfolds.
Angry Mom dolls out punishment
Mean-spirited Midwestern mother buys unfrosted Pop-Tarts for family
Akron, Ohio, wife and mother, Meredith Streckenbridge, has had enough. Tired of her family’s continued lack of consideration for her hard work and dedication as a housewife, she’s striking back. On a recent trip to the local Kroger, Mrs. Streckenbridge impulsively purchased three large boxes of boring, unfrosted, strawberry Pop-Tarts in an effort to teach her family a tough lesson.
“I was walking down the cereal aisle at the market, fuming about the insensitivity of my husband and kids when I schemed my diabolical plan,” she told The Wet Gazette. “I normally purchase a large box of the brown sugar and cinnamon, another box of frosted blueberry, and a third box, usually frosted strawberry. Imagine their surprise when they opened the pantry and discovered the unremarkable and tasteless toaster treats! It was indeed a ‘gotcha’ moment.”
When we questioned the suburban housewife about the catalyst for her ire, here was her response.
“My oldest, Michael, is perhaps the worst. He’s thirteen and already sullen. When spoken to, he responds in barely audible grunts. I drive twenty minutes in traffic to get him to baseball practice on time, yet he treats me as if I’m merely his chauffeur. And if I ask about his homework, I’m often subjected to a slammed door.”
Meredith Streckenbridge paused for effect and then resumed.
“My husband isn’t much better. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she added, referring to the couple’s offspring! “Jim comes home from the job, tosses his work jacket on the back of the sofa, and kicks off his boots…which usually have dirt and leaves stuck to them. He doesn’t even notice the mess he tracks in on the freshly scrubbed floors I’ve been slaving over all day. Then he pops a beer and farts, spraying an ungodly stench in the living room. If I try to talk to him, tell him about my day, he barely listens. So much hate!”
When we asked about her other children, Mrs. Streckenbridge hardly took a breath.
“The twins are just awful—two girls who just turned seven, but you’d think they were two. They share a bedroom and are terrible slobs. They sneak food into the bedroom, and instead of returning the dishes or utensils to the kitchen, those little brats just hide the contraband. I’ve found spoons in the closet, forks under the rug, and a piece of petrified bread under the bed. When I confront them, they just cackle and scamper off. Last week, they thought it would be cute to paint the dog green. Those two are the spawn of the devil!”
We questioned the mother of three if she thought her plan would work.
“I’ve tried everything. Grounding the kids doesn’t work. Yelling has been an exercise in futility, and they laugh if I give them a hard smack like my mother was known to do. We never dared laugh at her. As far as Jim goes, I’ve attempted the usual things a woman does to get her man to act right, bitching, complaining, sulking, and even withholding the hanky panky. It doesn’t work, so I’m hitting them where it hurts. And if they don’t straighten up, I’m buying the off-brand cola next week.”
What do you say?
What qualities should one have to run for public office?
Qualities? I don’t know much about that, but I could never run for public office because a video surfaced from spring break 1985 where I hollered, “WOOOOOOOOO,” at some random girl shaking her booty from the back of a pickup truck. So now I’ve been labeled a sexual predator.
A woke woman of color, for sure…one who doesn’t wear a bra. And she wouldn’t take the last name of her dopey spouse under any circumstances.
When I was a child, my grandmother told me I’d grow up to be handsome and charming, and that I could be President if I wanted. Grandma was wrong about a lot of things.