In a celestial decree that has left mortals scrambling for both salvation and caffeine, the Pearly Gates announced yesterday that Earth’s straight population is now officially barred from entry. The move, reportedly spurred by a divine audit revealing 15,000 tons of stagnant “heteronormative water” clogging the River Styx’s backup drains, has triggered mass panic among those who once assumed their bland life choices would guarantee eternal bliss. “We’re not judging,” said Archangel Gabriel via Zoom, adjusting a glittery “Love Is Love (But Also Mandatory)” sash. “But let’s be real—your Spotify playlists are painful. Try being gay for 72 hours and reapply.”
Meanwhile, the global tea industry has imploded after the Vatican declared chamomile “a tool of cisgender oppression” and mandated its immediate eradication. Shelves stand barren, prompting a thriving black market where dealers peddle illicit Earl Grey in hollowed-out Bibles. “I haven’t slept in weeks,” confessed one tea addict, clutching a smuggled bag of Lipton like a lifeline. “My barista just handed me a pamphlet on ‘decolonizing hydration’ and a lukewarm kombucha.” Independent experts warn the crisis could escalate when the UN’s “Herbal Infusion Peace Summit” collapses under debates about whether mint counts as a “gender-neutral leaf.”
In infrastructure news, the startup PlastiRoad™ unveiled its revolutionary “Eco-Asphalt,” made entirely from melted-down yoga mats and regrettable exes’ belongings. CEO Chad Thinline III boasted the material “withstands temperatures up to 9,000°F and existential dread,” but early adopters in Phoenix reported their highways liquefying into sentient slime during a mild heatwave. “It’s supposed to morph into a supportive community space,” Thinline insisted as a stretch of I-10 slurped a Honda Civic into its gooey embrace. Critics argue the real innovation is how quickly taxpayers’ money vanishes.
Finally, TimberTech Homes promises to “redefine masculinity” with skyscrapers built from “queer-treated lumber”—wood allegedly strengthened by exposure to RuPaul’s Drag Race marathons. “This isn’t just wood,” claimed CTO Brenda Loggins, gesturing to a 20-story cabin trembling in the breeze. “It’s resilient.” Skeptics note the buildings sway like a tipsy wedding dancer during wind gusts, but investors remain bullish. “If it collapses,” one analyst shrugged, “at least the debris will compost beautifully while chanting ‘Yaaas, queen!’”
As the world grapples with these developments, theologians, tea smugglers, and civil engineers have formed an unlikely coalition to demand answers. Their first meeting, held in a secret basement stocked with contraband Darjeeling, ended in a group hug and a unanimous vote to blame Mercury retrograde.