Bro, listen. Thank you so much for clicking this article. But I’m seriously up to my ass with actual work right now and don’t have time to write something real here.

So just imagine I did something clever in the body and try not to think about how you’re still paying for that monstrosity of a baseball stadium that can’t even attract more than 30 people to watch a fucking game.

After years of petitions, the Internal Revenue Service announced Wednesday that it has finally recognized Versailles Restaurant, the iconic Little Havana cafeteria that serves as the spiritual center for Miami’s Cuban population, as a taxed-exempt place of worship. The restaurant will now be known as “La Iglesias de la Ventanita.”

Since its opening in 1971, Versailles has been the heart of Miami’s Cuban community and a place of holy refuge during crucial moments in Cuban-American history, including the Elian Gonzales incident and the Café Bustelo shortage of 1995, which claimed 6 lives. The decision to recognize the restaurant as a designated house of worship was instigated when an IRS official reviewed tape of the celebration outside of the restaurant following the death of Fidel Castro. “We saw an entire community come together at a central location to praise god,” said an IRS representative. “If that isn’t a church then I don’t know what is.”

The newly minted church will hold its first service on Monday, with a special benediction by Padre Alberto Cutié and entertainment from an elderly Celia Cruz impersonator who will just scream “Azucar!” over and over and that’s it.

Upon their arrival, congregants will be asked to anoint themselves with a mixture of Royal Violet baby cologne, Fabuloso, and Vick’s Vapor Rub before reciting a selection of traditional prayers such as “Sana Sana Colita de Rana”, “Elian, Amigo, Miami Estas Con Tigo”, and “Mata Fidel” in their traditional Spanglish. Following prayers, the Church will offer sacraments in the form of Cafecitos to represent the caffeinated blood of Christ and Pastelitos (in either Guayaba, Queso, or Carne) to represent the savior’s sweet, cheesy, or meaty body.

The Plantain spoke to self-proclaimed church representative, some random old man who acts like he owns the place, about the church’s membership policy. “The Church will not discriminate against anyone,” said the man, who explained that Versailles will, as it has always, “continue to welcome all Cubans and Presidential candidates, and absolutely no one else.”

By Ariel Huguet

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do when there’s a murderer loose in South Beach and the MacArthur is completely backed up?

That’s the question audiences will be asking themselves when the long-awaited third installment to the Bad Boys series debuts in theaters later this year. In a portion of the script leaked to the Plantain by a grabby Club Madonna stripper, Detectives Mike Lowrey (Will Smith) and Marcus Burnett (Martin Lawrence) are in hot pursuit of notorious drug dealer and murderous bad guy hiding out at a South Point safe house. Unfortunately for our heroes, it’s 7 PM on a Saturday night so traffic on the MacArthur is just fucked and the duo has no choice but to spend the entire runtime of the movie inching their way across the Causeway while listening to Power 106.

Read the Leaked Script here:

Bad Boys III: Bad Boys Figh… by on Scribd

After leaving his home this morning and seeing his shadow, meteorologist and total DILF Bryan Norcross is predicting an additional six weeks of hurricane season.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I fucking hate this place,” said 5-year-old Coconut Grove resident Sadie-Lynn Harper Madison Tores. “Do you know how bad it is on my nerves to have to constantly prepare to maybe die in a hurricane every year?” the kindergartner asked while on a smoke break. ” Now I gotta live through six more weeks of it? Man, fuck you Bryan Norcross.”

The Plantain reached out to Mr. Norcross for comment, to which the smoking hot 68-year-old told us that he doesn’t make the weather, he just calls it as he sees it.

It was 27 years ago this week that Hurricane Andrew touched down in South Florida, leaving a wake of destruction in his path that impacted a generation of South Floridians. “Andrew was one of the most important moments in South Florida’s history,” said your friend’s mother unsolicited on Facebook.

But 27 years later, Andrew has retreated from the spotlight and is no longer the powerful storm of his youth. Now, the embattled gale finds himself in a tropical depression after years of missed opportunities and poor decisions.

In an exclusive interview with the Plantain, Hurricane Andrew detailed his journey from a once great windstorm, heralded by many as the “Storm of the Century”, to an unemployed and highly disorganized storm system living back in his childhood bedroom.

“After I hit it big in Miami in 1992, I decided to test my luck and move in a north-westerly direction toward Louisianna with the ultimate forecast of reaching New York,” said Andrew. “I never came close.”

“Andrew makes a mess out of everything in his path,” said his father, Dr. Lawrence Appelbaum. “I told him he would never make it to New York. But he went anyway and ended up calling me and his mother a few days later to pick him up from Tennessee. When we arrived he was covered in blow and in hysterics. He’s been living here ever since.”

Hurricane Andrew says he is uninterested in following his father’s career in orthopedics or pursuing any career for that matter. “It’s not like I can just go and get a normal job at CVS or something. I’m Hurricane Andrew, everyone knows that. It would be humiliating if somebody saw me bagging groceries or working in a hospital or something,” said the storm. “I just need to focus on myself a little more before I’m ready to make a comeback and move out.”

Although he maintains he is not prepared to join the workforce, Hurricane Andrew acknowledged the strain that his lifestyle has put on his relationship with his father. “We’ve grown pretty distant, sure, but I know he loves me. I guess I just wish I felt he loved me for something besides just being his son.”

When asked to respond, Dr. Appelbaum was dismissive of his son’s concerns, noting the large amounts of money he has spent on him over the last two decades and suggesting that his son earn his love and respect by working toward building a future for himself.”He was a category 5! A 5! Now what is he? He’s nothing.”

“Andrew has no ambition. None whatsoever,” continued his father. “Not like his sister Sandy, who made landfall in NY where she was accepted to Julliard to study dance. Now she’s married to a congressional staffer from Far Rockaway,” said Dr. Appelbaum with aplomb. “They wrote about their engagement in the New York Times!” he gushed.

“I know some will look at me and think I’ve wasted a good opportunity,” said Hurricane Andrew. “Maybe I have. But I’m going to get back on my feet. I know it.”

When asked where he saw himself in the future, the once great storm smirked to himself before answering: “Anywhere the wind blows.”

Life isn’t easy for North Park Elementary teacher Alice McGeary, affectionately known to her kindergarten students as “Ms. Alice.”

“I love being a teacher, but it’s so hard to survive on a teacher’s salary,” said Ms. Alice, who due to budget cuts often has to pay for school supplies such as chalk, crayons, and semi-automatic assault rifles for personal defense out of her own pocket.

“It adds up, you know,” said Ms. Alice as she showed off several handguns she purchased to strategically hide around her classroom in the event of a mass shooting. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel much safer having a gun in a room of 5-year-olds, but guns are expensive!”

The Florida Senate passed a bill this week to permit teachers to carry guns in their classroom, but without any provision for reimbursement of the guns. “While we applaud the Senate’s proactive approach to surrounding our children with guns, we must not forget that this type of legislation has put an increased burden on our teachers,” said a teachers union representative from Miami-Dade County.

Ultimately, teachers like Ms. Alice will carry the increased burden and do what is necessary to protect their students. “We do what we have to do. If that means I buy the guns for my classroom, then that’s what I’ll do.” When asked whether she felt comfortable wielding a gun during an armed attack, the 24-year old Ms. Alice admitted that she didn’t and began to cry. “Of course not! My last job was at a Jamba Juice, I literally am scared to death.”

The Plantain has learned that on August 1st, 2019, senior editors at the Miami Herald had an hourslong meeting about whether to call shit “poop”, “caca”, “feces”, “doodie”, “mud pies”, or “turds” in a headline published the following day.

After intense debate and several internal conferences with in-house legal counsel, the Herald decided on “poop.”

The debate was instigated by an article by Herald reporter Martin Vassolo about elevated fecal levels found at Crandon Park. Mr. Vassolo originally suggested referring to the shit found in Miami’s water as “feces” but was told by his editor that “doodie” might be a better option.

The internal debate reportedly took hours and was not settled until the Herald’s editor, Aminda Marqués González, made the executive decision that “poop” was the funniest, and therefore best, option.

“We knew we couldn’t say “shit” right off the bat, and decided early on that “mud pie”, “turd” and “caca” was too New Times-ish, if you know what I mean,” said Ms. González. “We strongly considered “feces”, but we didn’t know if all of our readers would know that feces are shits. So it really came down to “doodie” and “poop” and I just sort of felt “poop” in my gut, you know.”

The Miami Herald won a 2017 Pulitzer Prize for its reporting on The Panama Papers and Nicholas Nehamas won’t let anyone forget about it!

McDonald’s across Miami-Dade County will be offering a limited time “Miami Spice” menu in an effort to attract foodies who might not otherwise eat at the Golden Arches. The exclusive price fixed menu, available until September 30, will feature classic McDonald’s dishes such as “cheeseburgers” and “nuggets” at massively inflated prices. For $39, diners will be offered french fries as an appetizer, the choice of either two single-patty cheeseburgers or 6 nuggets as an entree, and a fountain soda as a desert. Ketchup and bar-b-q sauce is available for a slight surcharge and diners can substitute their entree for a filet of fish for an additional $12.

“What a great experience!” said Esmarelda Velasquez of Coral Gables as she and her husband stepped over a drunken homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk outside of the Bird Road McDonalds. The Velasquezeseses, dressed in evening attire, said that they had a wonderful evening and enjoyed coupling the nostalgia of eating at a McDonald’s with the satisfaction of being able to pay 13 times more than the meal is worth.

“A cheeseburger just tastes better when it costs $39,” said Damian Velasquez as he waited for his car from the McDonalds valet.

Local filmmakers David Cypkin and Alfred Spellman, the duo behind the classic South Florida documentary Square Grouper, are at it again with SCREWBALL, a Miami-focused baseball movie about fraud and dishonesty that somehow isn’t about the Marlins.As a supporter of local art, I watched the film last night, and cannot convey to the viewers my disappointment with the film. The story was, in my opinion, ill-conceived and not worth the $3.99 I spent on the title. Luckily for Mssrs. Cypkin and Spellman, I had inadvertently watched a movie called “Screwball: The Ted Whitfield Story”, which was the first thing that came up on my Video on Demand. Thanks, Xfinity.

“Screwball: The Ted Whitfield Story” is a comedy about a wiffleball player named Ted that overcomes the odds to remain a whiffleball player named Ted. It is the kind of movie that Brian Doyle Murray shows up in toward the end for some reason, causing the person sitting next to you to say, “Hey, you know that’s Bill Murray’s brother?” Fortunately for Mr. Doyle Murray, he wasn’t actually in this movie and the actor was just the “Jump to Conclusions Guy” from Office Space. A man who is definitely not related to Bill Murray, I think.

Maybe they don’t look like each other. Is one of these guys the diabetes guy from China Syndrome? Anyway…
After watching Screwball: The Ted Whitfield Story for an hour and a half, I realized this wasn’t the movie I intended to watch, which isn’t even on Xfinity anyway. After spending another 30 minutes fiddling with my Roku and having to sign up for an account on something called Redbox Online, I finally was able to watch the actual “Screwball” movie. Brian Doyle Murray isn’t in it either.
Screwball tells the real tale of Pedro Bosch, a man with a Belizian medical degree who injected athletes and children with steroids for money. He is all of the Cuban guys that grew up in Miami in the 80’s and the type that has gotten into several arguments at a Pollo Tropical while his kid, who he only has for the weekend, shout whispers at him “can we just go?”. To make a long story short, Bosch scammed $4,000 from a guy named Porter Fisher, the kid that was bullied at your high school but now works out too much and tries to sell you something called Shakeology through Facebook messenger once a year (I’m still not interested, Jeremy!).
The conflict between Porter and Bosch eventually “took down” numerous steroid pumping baseball stars including Alex Rodriguez and other famous athletes I definitely heard of before the movie. And by “took down,” I mean it didn’t, because A-rod is doing just fine. He does seem like a weirdo though and, although this wasn’t mentioned in the movie, is definitely is the type of guy that has jerked off to videos of himself hitting homers.
Screwball has gotten a lot of attention for its use of children during the film’s reenactments, an effective and entertaining storytelling device that is unfortunately ethically undercut by a scene during the credits in which the child actors are shown actually playing baseball among themselves. During the film’s parting moments, there is a shot of the child that plays Porter Fisher throwing a ball with just absurdly poor form. Like, the worst throw ever filmed on camera. That the filmmakers would put such an embarrassing shot of this young man in the movie is shocking and we have heard that CPS has opened an investigation on the filmmakers.
Screwball is an entertaining movie that is more about the folks you see driving rented BMWs on the Rickenbacker than Major League Baseball. It deserves to be seen now that it is on Netflix.
Grades:
Screwball: A
Screwball: The Tim Whitfield Story: C-
The Kid that Plays Porter’s Throwing Arm: F
Child Tim Elfrink’s Demon Red Beard: B+
Redbox Online’s Sign Up Process: F
This Article’s Photoshop: A+

When Portland vegetarian Alyssa Milano-Milano ordered the “House Salad” from Yasvanny’s Cuban Restaurant in West Kendall last week, she expected more than tomato slices atop shredded lettuce.

The 33-year-old ordered the disappointing salad while in town for an interactive sexual dynamics workshop hosted in a Doral apartment by a guy she follows on Instagram named Emanuel.

“I wanted an authentic Cuban meal, even though I literally cannot eat any authentic Cuban dishes,” explained Ms. Milano-Milano, who even called the restaurant to make sure they could accommodate an animal-free diet. “I was definitely told: “Salad, yes. Yes, salad. Bye” by whoever answers the phone. In retrospect, I’m thinking maybe whoever I spoke with didn’t speak English.”

When Ms. Milano-Milano arrived at the restaurant to meet Emanuel, she was shocked both that no one in the restaurant seemed to have any vegetables on their plate and that Emanuel was a lot heavier than his Instagram pictures.

“Every person in the restaurant had meat on their plate. And Emanuel had titties,” said Ms. Milano-Milano who immediately regretted the comment and insisted that she was body positive and didn’t mean to make fun of Emanuel’s big titties.

After twenty minutes of engaging in awkward conversation with Emanuel, who it turns out still lives with his Abuela and only does workshops as a means of tricking women into paying him to have sex, Alyssa’s salad finally arrived.

“That’s not a salad!,” said a famished Ms. Milano-Milano, who insisted that a salad has to have, at a minimum, at least a few peppers, maybe some onions, and croutons. “Also, you can’t just hold a “workshop” without credentials,” she noted of Emanuel’s shady curriculum, which consisted of him massaging Alyssa with Royal Violets while his grandma watched La Reina del Sur in the other room.

The Plantain reached out to Yasvanny’s Cuban Restaurant about the minimal ingredients found in their house salad and was told that it contains more than just lettuce and tomato.

“We put a drizzle of canola oil as dressing,” said an assistant manager who noted she thought that salad was just “rabbit food” and encouraged vegetarians like Alyssa to stick with the chicken croquettes.

When we explained that vegetarians do not eat meat, the restaurant’s manager informed us that “Chicken isn’t meat.”