People approach me several times a day to tell me that I look like someone else. It’s usually some actor from a show, or their cousin the podiatrist, or a sandwich they remember fondly. I guess I just have one of those faces.Occasionally I give into the compulsion to ask those people whether they meant the comparison as a compliment or in just a sort of observational ‘I enjoy hearing my thoughts spoken outload’ type of way and, if the latter, whether they ever felt attraction toward the actor, family member, or meal with whom they believe I look like. My inquiries are almost always met with a decisive “No!” followed by the jittering of their eyes in search of their husband or the waiter or a police officer who, I should note, I also look like. I told you, I just have one of those faces.
Being a man with the sort of familial movie star good looks of a pretty decent-for-the-price egg-salad sandwich (nothing to write home about, you know, but it won’t make you ill (which is more than you can say about some egg-salad sandwiches!)) has opened up a good number of doors for me. That may not seem impressive to you considering people will usually open up the door if you knock long enough, even if just to tell you to shove off before they call the police (who, as you will remember, I look like), but my universal appearance has allowed me to crash several high-profile parties and state dinners through the years by just simply showing up and waiting to look like someone else.
Most recently I went uninvited to a wedding where I was mistaken by all in attendance for the groom. Not wanting to disrupt the day’s events, but still quite hungry, I intended to stay only through the hors d’oeuvres, but became caught up in the excitement of my wedding day and continued the charade for much longer than anticipated: ultimately marrying the young bride and accompanying her to St. Croix for our honeymoon. The trip, perhaps predictably, hit a sour note when on our third night I confessed that I was not technically the man she intended to marry—a man who I have learned showed up to the church just a smidge late and, upon seeing his fiancé exchange nuptials with a person whom he believed to be himself, supposed he was having an out of body experience; a revelation that prompted him to leave the church in search of answers and walk around for a bit to ponder the meaning of life and whatnot.
This is all to explain that I am unable to attend tomorrow’s marketing meeting as I am still stranded in St. Croix, having been kicked out of the hotel by my soon-to-be-annulled spouse and without the immediate funds to return home. I have taken work where I can find it—mostly clerical and light fraud work—and should have enough funds for my return by the close of Q1. In the meantime, I have taken room with a group of Dutch travelers who have mistaken me for their mate Stijan and have graciously agreed to let him pay them back upon their return to Eindhoven.
Thank you in advance for your understanding,

Drunken vagrant Carlos D. Michaels, 51, has been tapped by Miami-Dade County to head its Transportation and Public Works department. “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME,” slurred Mr. Michaels when asked to comment on his new position, adding “I DON’T KNOW YOU! I DON’T KNOW YOU!” as he took a swing at this reporter before tiring himself out and falling back asleep.Mr. Michaels’ appointment is being universally lauded by those who know him. “Carlos is so great,” said 25 year old Nadia Jeshri as she entered the Metrorail and greeted the vagrant as he peed himself. “Every time I get on the train and he is there it’s so exciting. It’s like I’m in New York,” said Ms. Jeshri as a urine soaked Mr. Michaels walked over to her seat to burp in her mouth and then comment on the size of her butt. “Such an authentic City experience,” gushed Ms. Jeshri as she turned her head to stare out the window and pretend like what just happened was no big deal, just like a real New Yorker.
Mr. Michaels is expected to bring widespread reforms to the Miami’s public transit system, promising to extend the metro’s hours so “people could get some goddamn sleep” and connecting downtown Miami to parts of Miami-Beach, which he admits he won’t even try to do but says that it sounds pretty good before he started crying to himself and screaming for someone, likely from his past, named Myrna.
Mr. Michaels will begin next week and will be assisted by new Deputy Transit Director Man Nonchalantly Playing Trap Music On Speakers So Everyone On The Train Can Hear, and Undersecretary of Transit 28 Year Old “Teenager” Raising Money For His Football Team.

“We are getting the hell out of the beach for Urban Beach Week!” reported Miami Beach couple Alex and Serena Cohen from their balcony at The Continuum, a decision which has nothing to do with all of the “urban” people coming to town, so don’t even go there. “We just can’t miss that exotic plant sale at Fairchild down south,” explained Serena.While visitors to South Beach will be enjoying a week of boozy slushies and rented Lambos, residents of Pinecrest will be opening up their many guest rooms and fold-out couches to beach-dwellers hoping to escape the beach for Pinecrest’s more tranquil “Suburban Beach Weekend.”
Suburban Beach Weekend’s top attractions include finding parking right in front of the Walgreens, scoring loot from estate sales, and not listening to Fetty Wap. “Fetty who?” laughed Pinecrest resident Abigail Moore as she strolled through one of the three Publix supermarkets located within a mile from her home.
“I’d stay to enjoy the debut of Miami-Beach Police’s new Mine-Resistant Ambush-Protected armored truck, but I’m meeting my sister on Sunday for brunch at some place called The Muffin Tin” said pilates instructor Amy Ruiz, who plans on spend Friday evening watching a new TLC show about obese midgets called “Little AND Big” with her sister as her brother-in-law stares at his iPad all night.
“I love suburban beach week!” said Ms. Ruiz before binge watching 9 episodes of Kimmy Schmidt by herself after her sister went to bed at 10:00.
Not all Pinecrest residents are thrilled about the influx of visitors to their suburban paradise. Area curmudgeon Manny Santos complained, “I’ve never seen so many pretty people drinking boxes of wine at Matheson Hammock beach. This is Pinecrest, not The Flamingo.”
[EDITOR’S NOTE: You won’t find a more charming eatery in all of South Dade than the Muffin Tin. People rarely die there!]

Francesca Villalobos consumed an entire “tossed salad” without any salad dressing whatsoever during a lunch with her sister at Morton’s Steakhouse.The Plantain has learned that the 24-year-old woman, who works for a yacht company or something, ate the $18 pile of kale and 3-cherry tomatoes in front of her older sister Beth with a level of self-satisfaction the likes of which the upscale steakhouse had never seen.
“She was just sitting there, eating leaves like she was some sort of giraffe,” reported 31 year old Beth, an oncologist who though she loves her sister has always resented her because mom was so much easier on her.
“It’s so typical of her,” said Beth of her sister, who she knows purposefully waited until after Beth ordered her 18-oz rib-eye and baked potato before telling the waiter that she just wanted a small salad without dressing, an order which shamed Beth into changing her order to an Apple Pecan salad.
“Yeah, I changed my order to a salad,” admitted Beth, before adding “but at least I didn’t ask for it without dressing. I’m not a joyless dickhole.”
Francesca spent the meal telling her sister all about Jennifer from work who she thinks is very jealous of her because she, I guess, sells more boats or something. [Editor’s Note: Yachts are not boats and yacht people take the distinction very seriously, although under pressure they admit that yachts are just fucking boats]. “I can’t believe she didn’t even ask about Aiden,” thought Beth toward the end of the meal as she scraped the remaining Blue Cheese from the sides of her empty bowl.
“Aw, sweetie, I wish I could spend time with you all day, but I’m teaching a Pilates class at 4:00,” said Francesca as she gave her older sister a hug. “Yeah, I’m busy too,” said Beth, who was actually not at all busy because she took the day off to spend it with her sister, who didn’t even wish her a happy birthday.

The Plantain has learned that Diane Horowitz has made big plans for her daughter-in-law Maya’s uterus.”I can’t wait to be a grandmother!” said Diane out of absolutely nowhere during her Mother’s Day brunch. “Mom, quit it,” said her son David, knowing this sort of thing really upset his wife.
“What! I’m just sayin’ that I can’t wait to be a grandmother. Why is that bad?” Diane responded, knowing exactly why.
After a second of silence, the 54-year-old administrator, not able to control her self, continued: “You know, take your time, sure. Maybe you should go to Europe, just the two of you, because it’ll be impossible to go when you have a baby or two. What are you thinkin? A year or two and then you’ll start, right?” Diane asked Maya, who just stared at her, not believing she was actually doing this right now. “You’re gonna want at least two kids. Maybe three.”
Sources close to the family report that Diane has brought up her future grand-children nearly every time she has seen Maya since the wedding two Novembers ago. “I just want to make sure I’m not an old grandma,” said 54-year-old Diana, who said she really doesn’t see why her daughter-in-law is so sensitive about this.
The Plantain spoke to Maya about her relationship with her mother-in-law, which she described as “strained” even though Diane characterized the two as being “very close.”
“She just never stops asking about when I’m going to ‘give her grandkids.’ It’s so annoying,” said Maya, who in fact is pregnant and had planned to tell Diane the news over brunch before she started on about all of this again. “I almost don’t even want to have this kid because I don’t want her to have the satisfaction.
Toward the end of the meal, Diane’s son Michael had arranged for a cake to be brought out that read “Happy Mother’s Day, Grandma!”
“Mom, we’re pregnant!,” said David, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Oh my god!” said his mother, who burst into tears and grabbed Maya. “Oh my god, I knew it! I thought you looked fat,” cried Diane, who really was very happy, so it probably was for the best that she couldn’t see her daughter-in-law glare unhappily at her husband. “I can’t believe you’re finally making me a grandmother!”

Ongoing reports of mysterious illnessess at the Broward County Courthouse finally have an explanation, and courthouse staff are more terrified than ever.
A 14-month Plantain investigation found that a top-secret U.S. Department of Justice program in the courthouse basement to turn kidnapped children into telepathic lie-detecting machines has been leaking sickness-inducing extradimensional energies into the courthouse.
The investigation began after government tipsters passed along reports to Plantain reporters of a creature with a mouth for a head having eaten at least five attorneys, two paralegals and a local newspaper reporter in the courthouse parking garage.
Recent new visitors to the courthouse began to note in recent months a slight snowflake-like haze permeate the area, a haze that daily visitors had not actually noticed in part due to the pervasive fluorescent lighting throughout the building.
“We are examining the unconfirmed effects of this alleged interdimensional tear and these extremely far-fetched reports of some attorney-eating creature roaming the premises,” said county administrator Louis Hagan. “In the meantime, courthouse employees are still of course expected to report to work.”
By Manuel Del Fango IV

Thousands of American refugees have begun to flee the United States to Cuba seeking a better life and government subsidized healthcare coverage following Congress’ repeal of Obamacare. “The decision was a tough one,” said 26-year-old Jonathan Miller-Smith as he put the finishing touches on a raft he fashioned from discarded tires, twine, and thousands of dollars of text books from college he never read.Mr. Miller-Smith says he decided to expatriate because he no longer feels safe in this country and fears that the Republican controlled government is actively working toward taking away protections in place that protects him and others from descending into poverty, adding, “and I’m a white man! Imagine how bad it is to be something other.” Mr. Miller-Smith says he believes the President has become a despot, and not even one of those sexy revolutionary ones like in Cuba that get their own t-shirt and cool murals.
The Plantain spoke to several former Cuban refugees about whether they too were thinking about leaving the United States to go back to Cuba, and they all responded in unison: “Nope, we’re good. This is still better,” with one particularly ornery old man getting very angry and yelling something about how Mr. Miller-Smith is sad and ignorant for being frightened about the direction of this Country since the Senate still needs to approve any healthcare repeal.
The Plantain was confused by the old man’s criticism and the trust he seemed to place in the United States Senate, a body that is run by Mitch McConnell, a man who has spent his entire career advocating against providing health care to people who don’t want to unnecessarily die, but decided not to push the issue for the sake of civility.

In an act of unknowing cuteness, Nick Evans handed his Cuban coworker Eric Gomez what appeared to be a coffee mug filled with murky hot water on Monday morning. When asked by Gomez why he gave him a cup of heated dirt water instead of the black coffee he requested, Evans adorably replied, “What do you mean? That is coffee.”Sources within the law firm where the two work report that following Evans’ comment Gomez chuckled loudly and began squeezing his friend’s adorable little white cheeks while vamping, “Who’s a little cutie? You are! You are!”
“I asked Nick what type of coffee he thought he was drinking, and he took me to the kitchen and pointed at the Folgers Classic Roast sitting on the counter,” laughed Gomez. “Cheeky little guy honestly believes that the rest of the world calls that coffee.”
When asked by Gomez why he didn’t just use the Cafe Bustelo sitting on the other side of the counter, the precious Evans replied, “I would have, but aren’t they the same thing?”
Thoroughly amused at his coworker’s ignorance, Gomez made a mug of Bustelo for Evans, who grimaced after he sipped it and remarked that it just didn’t taste right. Evans was seen later that day sipping his usual hot water Folgers while working on a spreadsheet from his cubicle.
Written by André Heizer from The Hoot

A Note from the Editor:The Plantain is a satirical and fake news site. We publish parodies. We cannot be trusted.
That being said, when we satirize something we aren’t doing so to just look down at that thing. Instead, what we try to do is get locals to learn a little bit about what is happening in Miami by poking a little fun at current events. We do this by embedding links to actual news publications in our articles so readers can click on the real story and learn more about what we are making fun of. It’s a tool we use to trick ourselves into believing that we are being helpful and not just a cynical and click-baity fake news site.
Last week we did a piece called “Thousands Accidentally Attend ‘March For Scientology'” which falsely described how thousands of people looking to attend last week’s “March for Science” misread an Eventbrite post by local Scientologists and accidentally attended a “March for Scientology.” It was very clever.
That article explained that there was, and this is completely true, a GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER BEING BUILT ON US 1. Here is a picture of the building from Scientology’s website.

We were dismayed that the construction of this GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER had not been reported by any of our local papers, but figured it was because the GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER had not opened yet. We figured that once it did it would be reported on by more legitimate news sources. We were wrong, apparently.
Yesterday, the GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER officially opened on U.S. 1 for a giant roof-top gala attended by thousands, including David Miscavige, Scientology’s controversial chairman. The event also featured remarks by City of Miami Mayor Tomas Regalado who, according to Scientology’s website, made the following speech:

To me, the Church of Scientology is very simple. You learn, you work, you think positive and you help people. For that, and many another reasons, you are a good fit for our city. Miami is a gateway to the American Dream. And you have now opened those gates by transforming a cold, sterile building into a vibrant center. …And your hours of volunteerism will change lives, no doubt about that. So now, all I ask is that you give us even more of your ‘hours.’ Ten thousand, twenty thousand—I’ll take what I can get. That is what we need from the Church of Scientology.”
The Plantain believes Scientology is, at best, fucking crazy. They reportedly believe that a Galactic Overlord named Xenu captured a bunch of people’s souls in volcanos or something and that somehow causes people to feel bad. Here is a video from the South Park guys mockingly explaining what Scientologists believe:

Now, that certainly seems nutty. But honestly, it doesn’t seem any crazier than literally any other religion that ever existed. We as a society tend to look down at Scientologists because their doctrines are only 60 years old and seem to have been written for the primary purpose of selling books, and not thousands of years old and written for the primary purpose of keeping the lower classes in line or giving people who have nothing some hope that eventually everything will be cool.
The Plantain, however, believes in the First Amendment and believes that people can be as crazy or as irrational as they want. And whether that brings them to a church or a synagogue or a mosque or a GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER on U.S. 1 is absolutely irrelevant to us.
It should be noted that Scientology has developed a reputation of being a little more dangerous than other religions. For one, they openly advocate against psychiatry, which can and does help people. There is also a trove of allegations of financial, physical, and emotional abuses levied against the organization by former members as reported in many books, documentaries, and TV series.
That all seems bad, and if true should be a cause of concern to our community…especially if the Mayor of Miami is welcoming them so enthusiastically to our City.
I have met a bunch of Scientologists and they have all been pretty nice people that seem to be searching for happiness or belonging. From what I understand, the early scriptures are mostly about selling books and courses that teach interpersonal life skills that I have heard are very helpful. It’s later on, I believe, when it gets all intergalactic and nutty.
This is all to say that I don’t have some instinctual disdain toward Scientologists, any more than I do any other religion. But I do have an instinct to make fun of it, especially now that I have to pass by a GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER everyday on my way to work.
But I can’t in good conscience write satirical articles about Scientology in Miami unless I have something to link back to that explains to my readers that the GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER that I am going to eventually make fun of actually exists.
So there it is. Actual news reporting by The Plantain. I look forward to The Miami Herald sending me one of their new Pulitzer Prizes.
The Miami New Times has now reported on the GIANT SCIENTOLOGY CENTER’S opening and has credited The Plantain with breaking the story. The Herald, however, has still not sent me their Pulitzer Prize.

A dangerous new trend is gaining momentum among residents of Brickell’s famous and lavishly overpriced high rises: jumping out of the windows rather than waiting for the impressively slow elevator to arrive.As the city with the highest disparity between average income and rent in the entire nation, Miamians are accustomed to the reality that almost none of their rent is spent on building quality properties or fixing that elevator that has been down since you’ve moved in. Indeed, residents of Brickell’s many high rises have long complained that they frequently experience waits for elevators that go toe-to-toe with the release dates for the Game of Thrones book series, leaving Brick Heads with a daunting wait to get to work or the bank to cash daddy’s check.
Becky Bellagio, an innovative young Brickell blogger who goes by the name ‘Basic Beck’ has proposed a genius solution: jump to your death! Becky unfortunately did not reply to our queries, but her neighbor had this to say about her inventive solution:
“Everyone’s doing it now; it’s simply ingenious. We’ve all contemplated suicide while standing in front of the cheaply made elevator button you’ve jabbed at a hundred times, feeling your life stretch out in front of you and wondering if this building is really worth the $3,800 a month your dad is paying for you to live there. I’ve genuinely thought of killing myself every time I’ve stood in front of the elevator because I thought the only alternative was literally dying of old age waiting for it to arrive. By jumping out of the window you get to die on your own terms while making it to the ground floor in record time!”
Published in loving memory of Ángel Saxon, who died tragically at the foot of a seafront high rise in Brickell shortly after turning in this article to his editor. His studio on the 14th floor of the Viceroy is available for $4,100/month. For inquiries please contact his landlord 姓名.