Jul 20, 2026 · 4 min listen · Last updated July 20, 2026
From storyflo. This is your daily audio brief. Wit, July 20th. Seven from the writers' rooms and the open mics — here's the one I keep thinking about. Let's get into it. First, from The Hard Times. Inflation Impacting Food Baby Rates.
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Daily Comedy Brief · July 20th
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Inflation Impacting Food Baby Rates
Inflation has risen to a level where it’s now nudging down the number of so‑called food babies, a metric that health officials only recently began to track. Rising grocery prices are apparently prompting both couples and singles to skip the whole “food baby” experience, turning what used to be a routine part of family planning into a luxury.
The National Center for Health Statistics has spun off a dedicated branch to monitor this trend, carving out roughly a third of its annual budget for the effort. Researchers say the shift is unprecedented, likening it to moving from tracking birth and death rates to watching how many people can afford a single burrito that would “produce” a food baby.
People on the ground aren’t surprised; many have already noticed friends moving away from the habit of treating a cheap meal as a proxy for parenthood. An economic sociologist notes that the pattern mirrors past decades when food babies were common, but now only the ultra‑wealthy can afford the full “pizza‑baby” scenario, leaving the average consumer out of the loop.
In response, officials have announced a new task force aimed at untangling the crisis, with a promise that any fallout will ultimately be placed on citizens themselves.
Help! Andrew WK Told Me My Bloody Nose Pics Aren’t Metal Because I Dropped My iPad on My Face Reading a Cozy Mystery Ebook
I’m still laughing at how a simple iPad slip turned into a personal “I Get Wet” moment. The writer, a longtime fan of Andrew W.K.’s blood‑splattered album cover, was reading a cozy mystery in bed when the tablet hit his nose, blood spilling onto his lip. He snapped a selfie, captioned it “I Get Wet reading Agatha Christie,” and even tagged the rock‑star.
Andrew W.K. replied with a quick jab about “nice jammies, nerd,” basically dismissing the photo as not metal enough for his taste. The comment hit hard enough to make the writer cry into his own bloodstains, but it also sparked a defensive rant. He argues that holding a half‑kilogram slab of metal over your face nightly is more metal than any staged blood‑splatter, and that knowing your own wind‑down routine is a badge of badassery.
He reflects on his past—late‑night bar‑hopping, waking up looking like a drain—versus his current, more disciplined sleep schedule. Even though age brings its own aches, he’s content with the routine he’s built. The piece ends with a promise to keep reading, now with a sturdier iPad stand.
Todd Blanche, the acting Attorney General, is facing a tough confirmation battle for the permanent job. His critics are questioning a $1.8 billion fund to compensate Jan. 6 rioters and his handling of the Epstein files. Blanche's background is in crony law, which has raised eyebrows. He's got a net worth of 3.2 slush funds, whatever that means. There's also a weird connection to Jeffrey Epstein – Blanche claims he's just a fan. And if that's not enough, his resting face is apparently his daughter's new boyfriend's ethnicity. Oh, and he used to have a childhood imaginary friend named Mr. Waffles the Executioner.
Study Finds There Aren’t Enough Occasions Where You Get To Eat Rolls
You know, I was reading this study about rolls and it's pretty wild. Apparently, Americans are just not getting enough opportunities to eat them. Like, we've got Thanksgiving, Easter, weddings, and those fancy steakhouse chains where they're always serving warm bread, but it's just not enough. The researchers at Cornell University found that people would actually welcome more frequent roll-eating occasions, especially if they're warm and come with butter. They're even suggesting we create dedicated roll events, like a roll equivalent of Taco Tuesday. I mean, why not? Labor Day, birthdays, Memorial Day – all these holidays and events could be roll-fests. And who wouldn't want to show up to a party and just know that rolls are going to be there? It's a solid argument, and I'm kinda on board.
Trump Insists Frequent Naps Necessary To Protect U.S. Interests In Dreamland
Trump doubled down on his habit of dozing off, saying the naps are a strategic asset for “protecting U.S. interests in Dreamland.” He framed the sleep as a direct line to the Sandman, insisting he needs to check in three to five times a day.
He brushed off reporters’ questions about the on‑camera dozes, arguing that the “security concerns” stretch from Slumberville to Las Siestas. The president suggested the situation in Dreamland has deteriorated enough that he may have to increase his diplomatic visits, even mentioning a looming showdown with Freddy Krueger.
Trump also took a swipe at former President Obama, noting that Obama never “went to Dreamland” while in office and implying that omission led to current problems.
The piece is a satire from The Onion, lampooning the idea of presidential naps as high‑stakes foreign policy.
Parents Sit Kids Down For Difficult Discussion About Moving To Ad Tier
The Barnes family gathered around the kitchen table on Monday, and the conversation quickly turned from “let’s get ice cream later” to “we’re moving to the ad‑supported plan.” Dylan and Olivia tried to frame the shift as an adventure, promising new mascots and a fresh avatar for the kids, while reassuring their nine‑year‑old that favorite shows would still be there—just with a sprinkle of pharmaceutical commercials.
The kids didn’t buy it. The moment “Tubi” slipped into the dialogue, tears followed, turning the otherwise calm explanation into an impromptu sob session. The parents’ attempt at optimism—“so many fun ads you haven’t seen yet”—fell flat against the stark reality of losing a premium subscription.
In typical Onion fashion, the piece lampoons the absurdity of treating a subscription downgrade as a family‑wide life lesson, highlighting how even the most well‑intentioned “budget talk” can feel like a betrayal to children. The satire lands on the unspoken truth: no amount of ice cream can smooth over the loss of an ad‑free night.
The author announces a new book that doesn’t just critique today’s hyper‑individualist culture—it literally waterboards it, wires it up, and shocks it into compliance, all in the name of a “care‑based” community philosophy. The description reads like a manifesto for intellectual violence, but the underlying claim is that the project will somehow nurture empathy.
Then the tone flips: the same “ground‑breaking” work is framed as an excavation of the backyard’s ideological soil, a gardening project that promises fresh ways of “being‑in‑place.” No mention of actual plants, just the metaphorical tilling of local belief systems.
From there the narrative spirals into a post‑humanist collage: a mix of late‑stage capitalism, ecological collapse, and democratic ruin, with the author positioning themselves as a multi‑constructed identity meant to dismantle language itself. The next iteration is a trans‑species manifesto built from ripped‑out Hemingway first editions, decaying roadkill collected barefoot in Michigan, and AI‑generated scatological limericks.
Finally, the author concedes the project may be an indulgent exercise in navel‑gazing for a handful of specialists and a mother who will read three pages before suggesting a career in dentistry. In the same breath they describe tossing a fifteen‑page manuscript out a car window to drown out imposter syndrome, then promising a future‑focused sequel that exists simultaneously in the past, present, and “nextness.”