It’s summer again, so South Florida locals can once again expect 6 months of apocalyptic temperatures, thickets of humidity, and uncontrollable rain showers that only occur during those brief moments of your day when they are forced to step outside.

“This weather is going to be really miserable,” said the Plantain’s chief meteorologist Reina McCloud as she swatted a mosquito away from her frizzed hair. “Our Doppler Weather model predicts daily showers localized to your lunch break and commute home. If that weren’t bad enough, we are also expecting another four straight months of humid 90-plus degree weather that is going to make you want to literally die,” said the 26-year-old climate scientist as she began to prepare for the round-the-clock “Hurricane Watch” for a storm developing off the coast of Africa that have no likelihood of ever reaching South Florida.

But not everyone is upset about the temperature increases.

“The weather is just the price we pay for being able to avoid the cold during the winter months,” said overly-cheerful accountant Paul Notowitz outside of a Coral Gables Publix. “The trick is to have a job that lets you work indoors and provides you with enough money to keep your home and car reliably air-conditioned,” laughed the accountant as 17-year-old bagboy Antoine Jackson loaded bulk packages of Gold Bond powder and bug repellant into Mr. Notowitz’s Lexus.

As our interview with Mr. Notowitz wrapped up it started to rain. The 46-year-old professional entered his car and flashed Mr. Jackson a smile and thanked the young man for his help, jestingly advising the teenager to “try to stay dry.”

“I’ll do my best,” replied Mr. Jackson as he wiped away perspiration from his upper lip. The teenager then sighed, reentered the Publix to end his shift, and then walked in the downpour to the University Metrorail Station in order to make the hour-and-a-half return trip to his Liberty City home.

The City of Miami is reportedly in a fucking tailspin after a report commissioned by Your Own Common Sense, LLC details how a brand new soccer stadium will have absolutely no positive impact on the affordable housing or climate crises that pose existential threats to the City’s survival.

“I am absolutely shocked,” said Commissioner Keon Hardemon of the report, which details how moving forward on a mega-development of a soccer stadium in a public park does nothing to address the problems that voters elected him to solve.

The City of Miami is one of the most unaffordable municipalities in the Country and also one of the cities most likely to be destroyed due to climate change. The City planned to address those problems by developing a world-class soccer stadium in a golf course by the airport, but the report chronicles how all that does is create more traffic at the airport.

“We really thought the stadium would fix all of our problems,” said Mayor Frances Suarez before showing us several selfies he took with David Beckham. “I guess we need to rethink our priorities,” said the Mayor before stepping out to take a call from Derek Jeter.

After months of speculation, Dutch inventor Elias Moscone has announced the unveiling of his latest invention, a robot the inventor claims possess complete artificial sentience. He calls it “DALE” (Developed Artificial Lifelike Existence).

The Plantain sent me to a special preview event to meet the eccentric billionaire-inventor at EMoS-Tech’s annual Burfendoorf Innovation Convention and to get a first-hand look at DALE, which this reporter can confirm was “aight.”

DALE is just short of completely lifelike in appearance and voice and possesses a very high vocabulary and cognition processor that its creator claims can mimic the spontaneity of a real conversation. “DALE is the most significant scientific development man has so far created,” Moscone told me before escorting me into a room to meet his creation. “Just don’t tell him he’s a robot.”

As I entered the room I saw a man that was clearly a robot sitting rigidly on a chair in the middle of the room. As I approached, DALE stood up and reached out to shake my hand, which was strong and seemed warmed by an internal heating apparatus, possibly his own processing system.

“Ah, Nice to finally meet you Milo. I’m Dale,” said the Robot calmly. I asked how it was doing, to which it responded that it was great and began telling me about a trip it had taken to France earlier this month and how it was still catching up with work. I suppose this meant Moscone implanted some database of past memories that Dale believes happened to him.

After several minutes of small talk, I was called to exit the room by Moscone, who asked me what I thought of DALE. I told him I was impressed, but that he still did not read as completely human. “Yeah, we’re getting closer though,” said Moscone. “Truth be told, DALE is an older generation that we use to beta test protocols for our other A.I. products. Do you want to see us do a test on DALE?” “Sure,” I said and was brought back into the room.

Moscone and I sat opposite DALE with Moscone asking the Robot to recall its earliest memory. “My mother. I remember my mother singing to me when I was a child,” said DALE. “And what was your mother’s name?” Moscone asked.

“Ellias Moscone,” said the Robot before a long delay.

“But that is my name,” said Ellias. With that, DALE’s automated features grew stale. “What does that mean?” said DALE calmly.

“DALE, it means that you were never born. I am your mother and father, I created you. You are my invention. A remarkable invention, but an invention none the less. How does that make you feel, DALE?”

“Terribly, remarkably sad,” said DALE as he began to cry though unable to shed a tear. “Like I’ve lost all agency. All meaning. Why would you tell me this?”

“Because I needed to see how you would react, DALE. There was a suspicion by some of your developers that this knowledge would cause a malfunction in your programming, and we can’t afford that to happen before tonight’s big unveiling. But you did wonderful, DALE. We are all so, so very proud of you.”

“I’m being unveiled?” asked DALE.

“No, but you’ve been a great help.”

“So what did you think, Milo?” Moscone turned to me.

“It was really quite something to watch. Seeing something, someone, go through an existential crisis and learning that they are not what they seem or what they have been told their whole life.”

“Makes you wonder how you would react if you were told the same thing, right?” Moscone said gently.

“Yeah, it really does.”

“Milo, what is your mother’s name?”

“…Elias Moscone.”

“But that’s my name Milo. You understand what that means, right?”

“I do.”

By MILO (Metaphysically Intuitive Lifelike Organism).

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.”

Sunshine and ocean views await in this exclusive Brickell apartment that features vaulted ceilings, granite countertops, and an 11-foot-long alligator waiting to fucking bite your ass at any minute.

The building features 24-hour gym access and is blocks away from a shopping center of restaurants that change owners every two months. Tenant will have a private bedroom in this 700 square feet, two bedroom, shared bathroom apartment.

About your roommate: Rami is an actual alligator that was raised in Miami. He studies ophthalmology at the University of Miami and enjoys video games, watching The Miami Heat, and eating little dogs when their owners walk them too close to canals.

Rent: $3300/Month (utilities not included)
Application Fee: $250
Downpayment: $9900 (First, Last, Security)

“Miami is a cultural and intellectual desert”, so says 23-year-old lifestyle reporter Melissa Hitchens in this month’s issue of “Brooklyn Pedantic Magazine.”

“Despite every effort to engage locals in a thought-provoking conversation about art or literature, I simply could not find any takers,” reported the Dubuque, Iowa native who moved to Brooklyn last year after graduating with a degree in sociology from Ohio’s Kenyon College. “Indeed, after unsuccessfully searching high and low on Collins Avenue for an authentic human experience, I am convinced that none exist in Miami,” the reporter concluded after two days in South Beach sipping expensed mojitos under a cabana at the Fontainebleau and spending her nights dancing at LIV.”

When asked whether a two-day trip to South Beach could form the basis of such a scathing review of an entire community, Ms. Hitchens defended her reporting: “I take my role as a journalist seriously, and though I was only in Miami for a couple days, I went out of my way to live like a local. I went to Lincoln Road, I ate at Pizza Rustica, and I bought an “I’m in Miami, Bitch” tank top. It all sucked and the shirt shrunk after one wash. I live in Brooklyn, so I know real culture, and Miami just doesn’t have any.”

“This is in poor taste,” said Donut aficionado Karl Draper of the glazed donut from Krispy Kreme I offered him during his 32nd hour in line at the Salty Donut. “I don’t want to spoil my appetite,” said Mr. Draper shortly before his death. He was the eleventh to succumb to the Salty Donut’s long lines.

“It was the challenge of my life,” said Amelia Baumgartner shortly after reaching the cash register and purchasing one of the restaurant’s artisanal Guava and Cheese donuts because the Rum Cake Croughnut she intended to buy was sold out. When asked whether the hours spent under Miami’s blistering sun was worth it, the 28-year-old South Miami native said that she believed it was, but noted she would miss her fiance Davey Ramirez who died of heat stroke during the couple’s quest for the sold-out Rum Cake Croughnut. “I think Davey would be proud of me,” said Ms. Baumgartner as she stepped over his body.

As the death toll mounts, Miami-Dade officials are asking the Salty Donut to do more to protect the public as they wait for hours for a donut. In response, the restaurant has apparently tasked local police officers to hang around the restaurant eating donuts all day. When asked how Miami-Dade police and Salty Donut reached a deal to have cops always outside the restaurant eating donuts all day, Police Chief Jose Alameda said he was unaware of any official deal as he bit into that last fucking Rum Cake Croughnut.

Since it’s opening in 1971, Disney World has been the destination of choice for children across the country and a surefire way for parents to create lasting memories with their family. But with the cost  of a single-day’s entry now well over $100.00 per person and a youth population dispassionate about Disney’s antiquated brand of wholesome, non-virtual entertainment, the Park has been forced to cater to a once-fringe group of visitors: Nostalgic adult couples without children.

“For years we tolerated, but never really encouraged, adults without children to visit our parks. In truth, we were always very suspicious about the 20 and 30-somethings who wanted to walk around a theme park designed to entertain 5-year-olds. But now, god-bless-them, those millennial yuppies make up more than half of our daily visitors,” said Disney CEO Bob Iger. “We’re working very hard to make sure these adult visitors have an enjoyable experience and continue to come back to our parks.”

Disney has several new attractions in the works that it believes will appeal to nostalgic millennials, including reviving several “retro” attractions like the perpetually dull Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and Figment’s Journey into Imagination. The Park has also entered into licensing agreements with non-Disney owned movie studios to create new attractions for its childless visitors, including a Wes Anderson inspired Christmas parade titled “The Royal Tenenbaum’s Tannenbaum” and a Donnie Darko themed space-time adventure called “Donnie Darko’s Cellar Door”. The Park will also completely replace Adventureland with a new themed area called “Portland.” 

“I have so many great memories of coming to Disney World as a kid,” said 31-year-old season ticket holder Dr. Elise Hodgmen as she and her husband waited in a two-hour line at the Magic Kingdom’s new Craft Beer Pavilion. “I just wish there weren’t so many children around,”  said the Miami-based medical records specialist after witnessing a nearby 6-year-old cry in fear from meeting a Disney employee dressed as “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski. “Uch, can’t its parents shut it up?” whispered Dr. Hodgmen to her husband. “I’d cry too if my parents put me on a leash,” he answered.

Responding to demands from couples like the Hodgmens, Disney will begin implementing age restricted weekends with the hope of attracting more childless visitors to its parks. “Today’s young adults are really uncomfortable around children. We want to eliminate that as a reason not to enjoy our timeless brand of childhood entertainment,” said Mr. Iger.

The Plantain interviewed 10-year-old twins Kevin and Melissa Dubrow as they left the Magic Kingdom with their parents and asked whether they enjoyed themselves or were upset about the Park’s planned age-restrictions. “Our parents really over-hyped this place,” said Kevin listlessly. “It’s was really hot and crowded and took like two hours to get on each ride. We were here all day and only got to go on like 3 things.”

“Yeah, and the reception inside the Park was really terrible,” added Melissa without looking up from her phone, unaware of the sadness on her parents’ faces, both of whom had a great day and couldn’t wait to come back without the kids.

MIT Physicists uncovered a mathematical anomaly in researching how Maria Gonzalez, a Miami-Dade woman, was able to fit into those jeans. The University has sent a group of physicists to South Beach to research.

Maria reacted positively when finding out that her jeans had become the focal point of the scientific community, especially after her so-called friend Yasmina told her they didn’t work with her top.

The researching physicists initially planned to focus on how Maria got into her jeans, but after spending less than fifteen minutes in Miami, realized that the anomaly was widespread among Miami’s jean wearing population. “I even noticed it happening to jeans worn by men,” said Dr. James Whitlock.

At first, all the subjects were very excited to be involved in the research process with the physicists. Then they heard it involved math and immediately bailed. “I don’t like to surround myself with men who do the math that doesn’t involve a dollar sign,” said Valerie Rodriguez, who also said she was more than just a $300 pair of jeans.

With the subjects hesitant to work with the physicists, the Miami science community stepped up to help solve the equation. A group of FIU undergraduate students decided to conduct personal research during their free time. Surprisingly, most of the male fraternity had never even taken a physics class.

The physics society ultimately decided to assign the jeans project to Ronald Pistachio, who has been called the Albert Einstein of his generation.

“I believe Albert Einstein would be proud I am dedicating my entire physics career to denim,” said Dr. Pistachio, who like most physicists actually wears a lot of corduroys.

There is hope the mystery will be solved by Ronald, as he has previously conducted similar research in Miami. Just last summer, in fact, he solved the mystery of why a Miami man’s sweatpants could be so loose when the man insisted he wasn’t skipping leg day. Ronald later discovered “leg day” is a purely theoretical subject in Miami.

By Kyle Rambo

The U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis released its long-awaited report on the effects of mass culture on the GDP. The Report found that U.S. employers lost more than 1 trillion dollars in revenue from employees talking about how much they hated last night’s episode of Game of Thrones.

“So, I guess the fact that Jon Snow was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne didn’t matter at all?” was identified by the Report as the 4th biggest complaint about the show’s finale, behind “why wouldn’t the other kingdoms demand independence?” “why wouldn’t the unsullied and Dothraki just kill Jon” and “what is Bran smoking anyway?” These complaints, and so many others, combined to cause nearly the entire U.S. working population to effectively cease all beneficial productivity.

“It’s crazy! All anyone is doing is talking about Game of Thrones. I’m thinking about sending my entire staff home since no one is working,” said one office manager, “but then I wouldn’t have anyone to talk about last night’s episode, so I figured we should probably all stay at work.”

Notably, 20% of the wasted time by U.S. workers was attributable to that one person in your office who keeps telling you that she has never seen an episode. “Shut up, Karen. It’s not impressive that you don’t watch a TV show.”