If you only get your news from reputable sources, you might be tricked into believing that California is a thriving state with the fifth-largest economy in the world. Maybe you think this place has beautiful weather, diverse people, and that it dominates industries like technology, manufacturing, entertainment, and agriculture.
Well, you’d be wrong. Fox News has long known the truth — California is a liberal dystopia where chaos reigns, the only culture is cancel culture, and we would rather gorge ourselves on avocado toast than become homeowners.
Here’s what a day in my life looks like in the real Fox News California.
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10:00 a.m.
Despite having a job and a small child, I sleep until 10. This is the hour known as “California dawn.”
10:30 a.m.
I shower (but don’t shave my pits), get high, and then get dressed for the day. I wear white pants even though it’s after Labor Day and before Easter because there are no rules here.
10:45 a.m.
I drop the three-year-old off at her Mandarin-immersion play-based nut-free sugar-free clothing-optional co-op preschool where they finger-paint subversive Banksy-style street art on the sides of buildings.
11:00 a.m.
I commute to work with a caravan of immigrants through a blazing forest fire. I hop off to get coffee at one of those shi-shi coffee places. (It’s cool, I can just catch the next caravan.) I order a triple venti no-foam cruelty-free soy latte and a croissant which I pronounce “cwah-sohn” because I think I’m better than everyone.
11:20 a.m.
On my way out of the café, I withdraw $32,000 from my savings account and hand it to the nearest homeless person because that’s the law.
11:30 a.m
I jump on the next caravan. This one is on fire. I head to work at Big Tech where I earn $1 million annually as the Boss of the Internet.
12:00 p.m.
I’m getting so much work done. I trample a little free speech here, meddle in a local election in West Virginia there. I slide right into the Twitter group DM I have going with Ali Khamenei and Louis Farrakhan where we exchange memes and share our favorite tenets of Sharia law.
12:10 p.m.
I need to go to the bathroom to pee and get high again, but when I enter the women’s restroom, it is packed full of men, and they all have their genitals out. I fail to push through the dense maze of exposed penises to get to a stall, so I just have to go urinate in the street like everyone else.
12:30 p.m.
After a solid hour at work, I need to recharge. My co-worker asks if I want to go to the 1 o’clock riot, but I tell him I’ll catch the 3 o’clock. I head to the beach with my lunch. It’s a $70 Hokkaido uni and ikura bowl which I have to hold all the way over my head to prevent the roving horde of socialists from snatching it away and redistributing it.
2:30 p.m.
I’m wrapping up my day at work a little early. An A.I.-powered robot that I built has taken over most of my responsibilities, making me and many like me completely redundant. Also, the electrical grid is failing, and rolling brownouts are causing the lights at the office to flicker on and off.
2:45 p.m.
I head to the afternoon riot. Today’s display of anarchy is to get affordable housing for the sea turtles who get straws stuck in their nostrils. Or for people to be paid a living wage (ridiculous, I know). Unfortunately, our city’s civic infrastructure is collapsing and a woman next to me falls into an open shaft. She screams, “Help! I’ve fallen into a manhole, and my leg is broken!” But she said “manhole” and not the gender-neutral “maintenance hole,” so we just leave her down there to die.
3:15 p.m.
I head to the beach for the second time today. I get high again. A rogue wave comes out of nowhere and sweeps a man out to sea. I feel nothing because we are a godless people. As part of my mindfulness practice, I make sure to breathe deeply as I watch him sink under the ebb and flow of the surf.
5:00 p.m.
I realize I haven’t paid any taxes today, so I withdraw 60% of my checking account and toss it into the nearest fire.
7:00 p.m.
I feed my daughter two ounces of beluga caviar for dinner and then join my husband and our polyamorous third in the bedroom for the evening orgy. For tonight’s role-play, the third and I pretend to be rioters, and my husband plays the part of Joe Biden who just sits back and watches as we burn down a Wendy’s.
10:00 p.m.
The drugs have finally worn off, and I apply my anti-aging fetal cell face serum, do three Hail Satans, and call it a night. Got to get to sleep early to be ready for another day in Liberal Paradise.
