7 Things To Help Fill The Void After Serial Ends

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After quickly becoming the most popular podcast in the world, host Sarah Koenig announced that, after only twelve episodes, Serial will come to an end today. It is yet unclear when and if the show will have a second run, which has led to a panic among fans about what to do when they just need that Serial fix. We here at The Whiskey Journal want to help with your withdrawals pains. The following is a list of ways to help cope with the void in your heart until (fingers crossed!) the show returns for a second season.

1. Get creative! Make a necklace out of your baby teeth. When people ask you what’s hanging around your neck, simply reply that it reminds you of something very important to you that is now gone.

2. Really dig into a good read. Flip through a biography of FDR and every time you come across the word “wheelchair” cross it out and replace it with the words “sitty mobile.” This will make for a great Christmas gift that will really confuse your children.

3. Try to come up with ethnic slurs for Star Wars characters. For instance, I think Ewoks could be called Tree Wookies. Not a Star Wars fan? Why not just add one to the canon of epithets for Jews? I don’t know, how about Sand Christians? Now you’re on your way.

4. Get closer to your neighbor. The “new normal” is to not even know your neighbor’s name. Try to get up close and personal during the holiday season. Cover yourself in blood and make a snow angel in your neighbor’s lawn to really send a message.

5. Get investigative! Remember that story about that scientist who had two plants and he said kind things to one plant and mean things to the other in order to figure out if plant growth could be catalyzed/retarded by positive or negative human energy? Well that means there exists somewhere in the world a video of a scientist calling a plant the n-word. Why shouldn’t you be the one to find it? That’s definitely what happened, at least at some point during the experiment, and the world deserves to see this footage.

6. Start a new hobby or whatever. I don’t know. Just try to improve upon a skill or really take up an interest. If you’re over the age of twenty-five, no one really cares what you do. Just, like, get good at volleyball for no reason.

7. Vanquish your enemy! Do you have a personal enemy? I do. His name is Forest and, though I haven’t seen him in many years, I’ve never let go of hating him. And I’ve often thought of various scenarios in which to destroy him. I think it would be a super neat idea to spend a couple years saving up my money to purchase a horse. I would then, via a forged will, make it seem like a long lost relative had bequeathed him said horse. Sure, he will be suspicious and confused at first, but I have no doubt–as his family has a large tract of rural land near my hometown–that he would take in this horse. He would learn to love it. It would truly become his trusty steed and friend. I would let him have his precious mount for as long as a few years. However, one day, in the thick of the night, I would steal that stallion. He would grow immensely sad to have something so wonderfully pure in his life snatched away without apparent meaning. Oh, but Forest, I assure you I have plans for your horse pal. Just at the moment when he had almost given up hope of ever finding his horse, I would again sneak into his house and replace his current envelopes with a “special batch” of my own mailing envelopes. They would look normal. He wouldn’t know my game. And after a year or so of him mailing in bill payments or responding to the letters of older relatives, licking the top to ensure a fine, clean seal,  I would send him all the answers he had been looking for. A set of photos showing me stealing his horse and boiling it down for its much desired adhesive qualities. The last pictures would include me using said glue to form the adhesive band on the top of his envelopes. That’s right, Forest, you’ve been licking the sticky ghost of your beloved horse friend, which you probably named Rimbaud or Orwell, you pretentious fuck, for more than a year. And as all his joy would turn to ash, I would dance upon these ashes like salted Carthage of old. So you could do something like that or whatever.

Joshua Murphy often falls asleep at night imagining a better world without the band “Los Lonely Boys.”

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Joshua Murphy is a stand-up comedian and writer based out of Chicago, IL. Though a young comic he has moved up in the comedy world with a unique style of personal storytelling that seems strangely obsessed with the darkly absurd. He was the winner of 2010 Bloomington Comedy Festival. In addition to performing at the inaugural Limestone Comedy Festival in 2013, he also performed at the 2014 Bridgetown Comedy Festival in Portland, OR. And based on the writing of this bio, it is unnerving how comfortable he is writing in the third person.