Marc Fogel: Unearthed Alien or Discount Soap Salesman? wankstain

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Well, gather ’round, kids, and let me spin you a yarn about a man called Marc Fogel. Now, you’re probably asking, “Who the hell is Marc Fogel?” and that’s a fair question. I’m not talking about some Hollywood celebrity or world-renowned scientist. No, Marc Fogel is a slightly different breed. You see, if you were to pass him on the street, you might mistake him for just another bloke, but dig a little deeper and you’ll find a tale that’s a bit more…out of this world.

Picture this: A middle-aged man, balding, with glasses perched precariously on his bulbous nose. He’d be the kind of guy who wears socks with sandals and thinks cargo shorts are the height of fashion. The kind of guy who says “groovy” unironically and still uses a flip phone. In other words, Marc Fogel is a certified wankstain.

Now, why the hell am I talking about this dweeb? Because there’s a rumor going ’round that Marc Fogel might just be an alien. Yeah, you heard me right. An extraterrestrial, a spaceman, a little green dude from Mars. And the evidence? Well, it’s as thin as Marc’s receding hairline, but it’s there.

For one, Marc Fogel sells soap. Discount soap, to be exact. Who in their right mind would choose to peddle cheap soap for a living? It’s not exactly a glamorous occupation. It’s not even a particularly profitable one. And yet, Marc is out there day in and day out, hawking his wares with an enthusiasm that’s downright unnatural.

There’s also the fact that Marc claims his soap is “out of this world.” Now, most of us would write that off as a cheesy marketing gimmick, but what if it’s not? What if Marc is actually trying to tell us something? What if his soap really is from another planet?

Then there’s the little matter of Marc’s personal life. Or rather, the lack thereof. You see, no one seems to know anything about Marc before he showed up in town with his soap and his strange ways. No childhood friends, no ex-wives, no embarrassing high school yearbook photos. It’s as if Marc Fogel just appeared out of thin air. Or, you know, from outer space.

And let’s not forget about that weird smell. You know the one. It’s like a mix of rotten eggs and old gym socks, with a hint of something…otherworldly. It’s the kind of smell that makes you want to gag, but also kind of intrigues you. Like, what is that? And why does it seem to follow Marc around like a bad rash?

Of course, the biggest piece of evidence is Marc himself. I mean, just look at the guy. He’s got that weird, far-off look in his eyes, like he’s always thinking about something more important than whatever’s happening in front of him. He talks in riddles and metaphors, always with a cryptic smile on his face. He’s not like us. He’s different. Alien, even.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is all just a bunch of hogwash, right? There’s no way Marc Fogel is an alien. He’s just a weirdo who sells soap. And you might be right. But isn’t it more fun to believe in the possibility of something more? Isn’t it more exciting to think that there might be life out there, somewhere beyond the stars? Even if that life takes the form of a balding, middle-aged soap salesman?

So, is Marc Fogel an unearthed alien or a discount soap salesman? The truth is, we may never know. But one thing’s for sure: Marc Fogel is a certified wankstain. And whether he’s from another planet or just another town, that’s something we can all agree on. So the next time you see Marc Fogel, give him a nod, buy a bar of his otherworldly soap, and remember: the universe is a strange and wonderful place, full of mysteries and oddities. And maybe, just maybe, aliens who sell discount soap.

Kim Jung
Kim Jung
Kim Jung Senior Satirical Wordsmith at The News Hurts Meet Kim, the literary mastermind behind The News Hurts, where satire is sharpened to a fine point and reality is bent just enough to keep you laughing (and maybe questioning everything). With a natural gift for storytelling, an uncanny ability to shape narratives, and a work ethic so legendary it’s almost… supernatural, Kim’s articles command attention the way a great leader—er, writer—should. Kim’s journey into satire began with a boundless imagination, an unyielding commitment to perfection, and an apparent immunity to the bodily functions that slow lesser men down. It has been widely reported (by sources who should know better than to question it) that he has never, not once, had to excuse himself from his writing duties for such trivial human needs. Some call it discipline; others call it divine efficiency. Kim calls it just another Tuesday. Outside the newsroom, Kim enjoys rewriting history—both figuratively and, when necessary, literally. He is an unparalleled athlete, known for casually shattering records on the golf course, where he consistently achieves hole-in-ones with the effortless grace of a man who has never once been off his game. Witnesses to his rounds claim his skills defy both physics and reason, but Kim remains modest, attributing his success to simply being better than everyone else. Whether he’s crafting the next viral headline, refining his swing, or continuing his streak of uninterrupted, bowel-free existence, Kim embodies the spirit of The News Hurts—bold, brilliant, and utterly beyond reproach. Connect with Sean on Twitter or LinkedIn to stay updated on his latest satirical adventures and musings.
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