This is your News You do not Need podcast.

Imagine waking up and hearing that the single most unnecessary piece of information you'll receive today involves a raccoon, some criminal intent, and a very confused Amazon delivery person. But here we are, and you know you want to know. Let me set the scene: New York, land of dreams, giant pizzas, and apparently, porch pirates with paws. Yesterday, a resident caught a raccoon boldly stealing a package right from their doorstep. There’s security footage of the little bandit clutching a suspiciously lightweight box in both hands – or would that be both paws? – and waddling off into the night like a burglar at a Black Friday sale, if that burglar also doubled as a fuzzy garbage disposal unit.

Now, do raccoons really need expedited shipping, or was it something more sinister? Maybe it was an anti-aging face mask for that iconic burglar’s mask look, or maybe our masked friend is just really tired of eating out of garbage cans and decided to see what HelloFresh could offer the discerning urban scavenger. The homeowner, by the way, reported the incident with the phrase, “Well, I guess that’s one way to use Prime,” which, admissions aside, is the best use of dry humor since someone first put pineapple on pizza and called it culinary innovation.

But honestly, aren’t raccoons the ultimate symbol for modern life? They’re clever, they’ll do anything for a snack, and they could probably teach a course on surviving the mean streets of the city with nothing but opposable thumbs and questionable morals. Somewhere out there, there’s a package full of socks, novelty mugs, or perhaps a lifetime supply of raccoon repellent now stashed high in a tree—never to be seen again by human hands.

And while we’re pondering animal hijinks, the news cycle managed to deliver an even stranger bit: an actual police report filed in Germany verified that a mysterious late-night “doorbell ringer” was, in fact, a garden slug. That’s right—a cop, using years of finely honed investigative training, caught a mollusk mid-crime. The slug, reportedly unrepentant, has yet to apologize, and his attorney is expected to request bail in leaves and damp soil.

What do a miscreant raccoon and a slug on a joy-bell-ringing spree have in common? Absolutely nothing, except they both prove we live in a world where sometimes, the most breaking news is just a little bizarre—and absolutely, gloriously useless.

So tonight, as you lock your doors and check your order history, just remember: somewhere out there, a raccoon may be plotting a porch heist and a slug might be casing your doorbell. Sleep tight, and maybe get those security cameras rolling. Because tomorrow’s news you don’t need might already be squirming or shuffling its way right to your doorstep.

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Let me set the stage: Picture me, a regular human, sitting comfortably in my room, controller in hand, deep into a serious round of Grand Theft Auto V. Outside, the world spins with its usual Monday chaos, but inside my four walls, the only cops I need to worry about are pixelated, and the worst they can do is force me to restart a mission if they somehow outsmart my virtual driving.

But somewhere out there, across the pond in Great Britain, reality decided to serve up the single most bizarre crossover event that absolutely nobody needed. Emma Graves, also just minding her business and evading the virtual law in GTA just like a responsible adult, suddenly discovered that her game had unlocked the ultimate level of “immersion.” Because, out of nowhere, a real-life police chase came barreling down her street and, for no clear reason other than the universe needing content, smashed directly into her bedroom wall.

Imagine this: You’re driving in-game, probably off a ramp (full respect), the sirens are blaring, and then—crash! Not your car, not your character, but your actual house now contains a getaway car and several officers who, you strongly suspect, do not accept cheat codes. Emma, who miraculously wasn’t hurt, became the only person in Britain to have the GTA experience delivered straight through her construction. The walls between worlds have never been so literal—a police officer reportedly even asked her if she wanted to press charges against the suspect for “breaking and entering,” but in this case, the “breaking” was quite literal, and the “entering” really involved zero invitation.

When someone asked her, “Are you okay?” she replied, “I’m just glad I wasn’t the one getting chased in the real world—I only committed virtual crimes today!”

Not only was Emma safe, but she now has a story where she didn’t just play Grand Theft Auto, she *lived* it, briefly considered charging rent to a police car, and probably set off the world’s weirdest insurance claim. Can you imagine the adjuster: “And how did the damage occur?” “Well, I was playing Grand Theft Auto and a real criminal drove through my wall. It’s a long story, but there are witnesses. Most of them wear blue and carry Tasers.”

Elsewhere, I caught wind of another story that fits nowhere except in the folder marked “facts you didn’t need.” A Chinese esports team has now monetized quitting video games. Running a 22-day “quit gaming boot camp,” they promise to help people kick gaming addiction, which sounds noble. Only twist? It’s so successful it’s almost suspicious. What do they do all day, anyway—throw controllers in the recycling bin and stage healthy ambushes in real parks? The only thing missing would be a coach yelling, “Get off your screens!” every 20 minutes while sneaking in a round of Candy Crush under the table.

And if you thought bizarre sporting comments were confined to the games themselves, the entire U.S. heard Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones remark, after a game ended in a tie, that it felt “like kissing your sister.” Nobody knows what this means, nobody asked for clarification, but now everybody is picturing football as a sport with disturbingly complicated family reunions.

So, next time you think your day is weird, just remember: Emma Graves played GTA, and the police showed up for real. Jerry Jones redefined uncomfortable analogies. And if you’ve ever considered quitting gaming, you could end up at a boot camp marketed by the same people who probably design tournaments for world champions. In 2025, reality and the virtual keep swapping notes, and the wall between the two? Well, sometimes it’s just a wall—and sometimes it’s a drive-through.

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Imagine waking up and grabbing your phone, eager to catch up on the latest global crises or, you know, maybe just find out which celebrity got a new haircut. But instead, you come across what might be one of the greatest “Why is this news?” moments of the year. In a tiny slice of Bengal, in a town known for lively Durga Puja celebrations, organizers decided the time had come for America’s former president, Donald Trump, to have a spiritual makeover—Bollywood villain style. Because obviously, nothing completes a religious festival quite like a papier-mâché Trump with three eyes and a demon grin peering over a crowd of sari-clad aunties and uncles munching on sweets.

Picture the scene: Durga Puja, which is supposed to be about slaying evil, worshipping the goddess, and, of course, showcasing the best butter chicken this side of Kolkata, suddenly stars a foamy-haired Trump posing as Mahishasura, the legendary demon. If you’re wondering what made him deserve this honor, organizers indignantly point to his tariffs on Indian goods, some visa rules, and an apparent betrayal of... well, the spirit of international trade or possibly mango exports. What better way to lodge your trade complaints than to make an eight-foot-tall effigy and parade it for your neighborhood and, just maybe, the global press? Somewhere, an actual demon is feeling a little upstaged and wishing for better public relations.

Reactions? As you’d expect, social media in India detonated, debate raged, and meme-makers finally got a brief from the universe itself. Is it political protest, performance art, or just proof that Indian festivals have officially run out of ideas for asuras? The answer is yes.

Meanwhile, I’d love to see the tourist confusedly explaining to their mother back home that he didn’t visit the Taj Mahal, but he did get a selfie with a demon-Trump, which probably counts as a spiritual experience. Not to be outdone, locals are already floating ideas for next year’s villain. Elon Musk as Ravana? Putin as the blue-faced ogre from ancient Indian epics? The possibilities are endless, and probably even less relevant to your actual life than the news you’ll hear tomorrow.

So next time you’re at a festival just hoping for good food and music, beware—you might end up standing face to face with the world’s oddest protest art. And the best part? You absolutely, unequivocally, do not need to know any of this… which, of course, is exactly why you’re hearing it right now.

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Let me set the scene—you’re hiking deep in the Adirondacks, searching for that elusive peace, maybe convinced you’ll find yourself. Instead, you come upon a barricade, and a sign warning you: trail closed due to one stubborn bull moose. Wildlife officials have been trying to figure out why this moose, let’s call him Mr. Moose, has just plopped himself in the middle of a popular mountain path and has zero intention of moving, like a very large, very furry traffic cone. This has reportedly been going on for days, and researchers admit they are “at a loss” as to why. Moose, it seems, do not appreciate questions about their motivations. The trail remains closed while Mr. Moose enjoys his new role as an accidental guardian of the gateway, probably confusing a lot of confused hikers and upping the Adirondack mystique factor by at least 30 percent.

Now, if you’re thinking that an attention-seeking moose is this week’s weirdest moment, let me introduce Mr. Leonardo da Pinchy, a cat in Auckland, New Zealand, whose sole ambition in life is not love or affection, but to steal every piece of underwear in the neighborhood. Residents have been baffled as their undies vanished, only to reappear on da Pinchy’s owner’s lawn—a veritable gallery of pilfered panties and boxer briefs fluttering in the breeze. He does not, according to those in the know, discriminate between brands or sizes but seems to have a soft spot for anything expensive. Is this performance art? A feline commentary on consumerism? Trickster gremlin behavior? Only Leonardo da Pinchy knows, and he’s not talking, unless maybe you bribe him with silk.

But we can’t stop there, because welcome to 2025, the year that put "radioactive wasp nest" on the list of workplace hazards. At a former nuclear bomb plant in South Carolina, workers recently discovered a literal radioactive wasp nest—yes, Nature has apparently been attending late-night superhero movie marathons and got some ideas. Experts believe the nest was contaminated after the wasps used radioactive mud from the very site that once built parts for nuclear bombs. So now, in addition to worrying about stinging insects, you can ask: Are they glowing? Should I worry if my Geiger counter clicks when I pass a hornet?

And for flavor, consider that somewhere in Maine, wardens spent five hours this week rescuing a moose from a well. Because when it comes to “things nobody needs to know,” apparently, even moose prefer artisanal, hand-crafted water sources.

So next time you feel your own week is getting weird, just remember: At least a moose isn’t blocking your commute, your underwear isn’t being curated by a cat, and your backyard wasps probably aren’t radioactive—well, probably. Stay curious, and keep your Geiger counter handy, just in case.

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Did you know that sometimes, the universe hands you a news story so delightfully bizarre, you have to double-check to make sure you didn’t dream it after eating a questionable gas station burrito? It’s true. Today, as the world turns its collective gaze to TikTok deals and political drama, a much less necessary but exponentially weirder headline dripped its way into the public consciousness—straight out of San Antonio, Texas: a real-life blue jay–green jay hybrid bird has been discovered, strutting around like it’s the world’s least likely fashion collaboration.

Now, jays are birds with attitude—imagine the bird equivalent of that one coworker who always manages to dress entirely in neon but somehow pulls it off. Blue jays are notorious across North America for being both gorgeous and, according to some backyard bird fans, a little bit jerky when it comes to the peanut stash. Green jays are their suave, tropics-loving cousins from Mexico and South Texas, sporting a paint job that honestly makes most parrots jealous.

Until now, the idea of these two birds mixing was more likely to show up in a child’s drawing than in any field guide. But in recent hours, a birder in San Antonio did what so many of us hope for: stumbled upon the biological equivalent of mixing Sprite and Coke at the soda fountain, and it somehow worked. Descriptions of this avian mashup are about as fabulous as you’d hope—a jay with blue wings, green back, and a general aura of “come at me, science.” The experts are calling this crossbreed not just rare, but possibly the very first documented anywhere on Earth.

Picture this: You look out your window, hoping for the usual feathered suspects, and instead you get a bird that looks like it lost a bet during Mardi Gras. In a week dominated by indictments, tropical storms, and cows being rescued from Indian drains, the unexpected arrival of a bird that’s basically nature’s answer to a viral TikTok filter may not break the internet, but it certainly ruffles all the right feathers.

Scientists, of course, are thrilled and a bit flummoxed because birds of different jay species aren’t generally in the mood for cross-family reunions. Observing this hybrid is like finding a Bigfoot that moonlights as a flamingo. Some experts are now reconsidering what they know about avian boundaries, and there’s no word yet on whether the blue jay or green jay parent needed counseling after that first date.

As for the bird itself, there’s probably an identity crisis going on—should I squawk, should I sing, or just stand here looking confusingly fabulous? Birdwatchers are setting up telescopes and, not to be outdone, TikTokers are probably already working on beauty tutorials based on “mid-century modern jay” color palettes.

So next time you think your day can’t get any stranger, remember: somewhere in Texas, an utterly unnecessary but magnificently strange bird is out there, looking at the locals and thinking, “You really don’t need to know about me, but you’re welcome.” Because sometimes, the world gifts us not what we need, but what we didn’t even know was missing—a sassy, feathered celebration of the improbable.

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Sharks always seem to get the reputation of being the ocean’s ultimate loners—just you and your buddies, nervously eyeing each other in the shallow end, wondering which one of you might lose a toe first. But what if I told you not all sharks are so, well, single-minded? Picture this: It’s a perfectly normal day, you’re snorkeling in New Caledonia, minding your own business, making fish faces at the marine life, when you stumble upon what appears to be an underwater shark rendezvous, and let’s just say, it’s not a committee meeting. In the past 24 hours, marine scientists recorded, for the first time ever, a leopard shark love triangle—yes, three sharks at once. No, you can’t make this up.

Here’s how shark romance apparently works in the wild: Our heroine, a female leopard shark, was lying completely motionless on the seabed, trying to have what I assume was a “me day.” Suddenly, two overly enthusiastic male leopard sharks decide it’s the perfect moment for what scientists endearingly call “group mating.” These two Romeos weren’t content to swipe right and form an orderly queue. Instead, they each grabbed one of her pectoral fins, holding her in place for almost an hour and a half. That’s longer than most of us will wait for a pizza delivery. Ninety minutes later, in a burst of synchronized aquatic passion, the whole event wrapped up in just 110 seconds. You wait your whole life for an underwater ménage à trois, and when it finally happens, blink and you’ll miss it.

The researchers, probably realizing no dinner party will ever be this eventful again, say this is the first time such a spicy shark encounter has ever been captured on camera. So, if you find yourself feeling a little extra third-wheel-y at your next social gathering, just remember: Somewhere off the coast of New Caledonia, there’s a female shark who truly gets it. The bar for awkward group dynamics has been raised—by sharks. And you thought your Zoom meetings got weird.

While this is a breakthrough for shark conservation—because apparently, no one knew three’s company in shark courtship—none of us really needed to know that shark dating can sometimes look like the finals of an underwater tug-of-war. Nevertheless, you’ll never look at a leopard shark the same way again. Next time you’re at an aquarium, suppress the urge to ask, “So, is this one looking for a plus-two?” You're welcome for this precious piece of pop-science you absolutely didn’t need to know, but now cannot forget.

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Let me tell you about something that made headlines in the past 24 hours that is as gloriously unnecessary for your daily survival as a second sock at the beach, yet so bizarre it demands your full attention. Picture an army of cereal enthusiasts—yes, cereal enthusiasts—descending on Green Square Park in Cedar Rapids. Not for a political rally, not for a music festival, but to, collectively and with great ceremony, chomp on Crunchberry cereal. Their goal? To break the world record for the largest synchronized cereal breakfast. I’m not making this up. Two thousand, four hundred and ten people took a bite of Crunchberry at the exact same time, which is basically the Olympics of breakfast if breakfast was judged by volume of crunch instead of athletic prowess.

Now, try explaining that scene to someone who just woke up from a coma. You get all these grown adults, possibly some children caught in the Crunchwave, forming single file lines, clutching cereal bowls as if they’re auditioning for a commercial on pure joy. Was there milk? Was it whole, skim, or vegan oat extract? These are questions for the philosophers and lactose intolerant among us.

Can you imagine the planning that went into this? Somebody had to count 2,410 spoons. Someone had the sacred duty of verifying that every mouthful occurred in perfect harmony. Who applies for this job? Is there a specific degree in cereal synchronization? If there isn’t, Cedar Rapids needs to start awarding honorary doctorates immediately.

And here’s where it gets truly delicious—after this historic breakfast, there was undoubtedly one confused squirrel wandering the park just wondering if it had missed the memo on cereal day. A squirrel with existential questions, perhaps the only local creature not impressed by humanity’s capacity for collective snacking.

Now, you might be wondering, is this the kind of record that stands the test of time? Could this be humanity’s greatest rallying achievement? Only if the next event involves everything-bagel juggling or synchronized noodle slurping. But for now, if you’re heading to trivia night, you have a rock-solid answer for “What’s the weirdest way to gather two thousand strangers?” And if you ever meet someone who claims eating breakfast isn’t a group sport, you’ll know they are simply not thinking big enough.

So if listening to this podcast has taught you anything today, it’s that life is unpredictable, people love Crunchberry more than you ever realized, and somewhere out there, there’s a squirrel with serious trust issues living in Cedar Rapids. And that, my friends, is news you absolutely don’t need but now can’t forget.

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Today’s news brings us another gem from the inexhaustible well of stories you simply don’t need to know—yet once you hear it, you may never forget. It’s the sort of information you file under “why does this exist” right next to trivia about wombat droppings or that time a town in Spain held an annual tomato fight just for fun.

Let’s journey to sunny California where a guest at the famously eccentric Invisible House found themselves staring into the abyss of the American credit industry, all because they just had to snap a bathroom selfie. I repeat: a bathroom selfie has become a $10,000 mistake. Now, imagine the moment—you’re on vacation, maybe feeling glamorous, basking in the reflective glory of a $2,500-per-night architectural marvel composed almost entirely of glass. You wander into the bathroom, spot a mirror that could double as a NASA satellite, and think: This would make an epic Instagram moment.

Snap. Flash. And then… invoice. Because, apparently, the Invisible House isn’t just invisible; it’s also invisibly expensive if you’re not careful. The management, it turns out, has a strict no-photos policy in certain areas, with a violation penalty that makes most people’s annual rent look like lunch money. A $10,000 fine for breaking selfie protocol. This, my friends, is probably the most aggressively priced bathroom break in recorded history.

Of course, social media exploded in sympathy and disbelief. People compared it to getting a parking ticket on the moon or being charged for breathing the air inside an art gallery. One Twitter user even calculated how many toilet paper rolls you’d need to buy in bulk before reaching 10 grand. Spoiler: it’s enough to stretch from the Invisible House all the way to Nevada.

Now, I know what you might be thinking—was it at least a particularly spectacular selfie? Maybe this was a bathroom designed by Banksy, with golden faucets and a bidet that plays Beethoven. Well, alas, reports suggest it was just a basic shot: one person, one mirror, and a background featuring only the stunned realization that yes, someone is going to need to call their bank.

As if modern hospitality needed another reason to make you read the fine print. Don’t run in the halls. Don’t steal the towels. And now—don’t get photogenic near the fixtures, unless you’re prepared to sell your car to pay for it.

So, the moral of today’s utterly unnecessary tale: next time you’re staying somewhere fancy and your finger itches for a selfie, check the rules. Or, better yet, find a bathroom with a sense of humor—and reasonable fines. Because in 2025, making a snap decision at the Invisible House could make your wallet, well, invisible too.

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Did you wake up this morning feeling like your life was missing just a touch of truly unnecessary information? Lucky for you, I am here to deliver today's essential dose of the bizarre. Now, some people track the stock market, others follow news about politicians or even the occasional asteroid swinging past Earth, but today’s headline comes straight from the “I absolutely could have lived my whole life without knowing this” department.

Imagine you’re a police officer in Ketchikan, Alaska, just rolling into work, getting your coffee, and the radio crackles: “We’ve got a suspicious vehicle disturbing the peace, horn honking like it’s in a parade.” By the time you show up, you discover not a car thief, nor a joyriding moose, but two black bears cozily planted in the front seats, apparently working together to see if bear paws are compatible with power steering. The bears were both upfront, messing around on the dashboard so enthusiastically that they’d locked themselves in and started honking for help like a couple of stranded Uber drivers.

Unable—or perhaps unwilling—to master the complexities of the human door handle, these two managed to wreck the car's interior but left the horn, and everyone else’s nerves, completely shot. As for the car, police called the owner, who, rising to the occasion, used a remote unlock feature to free the furry felons. The bears bounded off, presumably to continue test driving picnic baskets, with zero understanding of what insurance premiums even are. You’d think this is a one-off, but Alaska’s finest reports that this is the second bear carjacking this summer. I, for one, am left questioning if local dealerships now offer “bear-proof” as an optional extra. Bear repellent seats, perhaps?

Meanwhile, if you fancied a stroll down a less grizzly path, hop over to New Jersey, where a real estate agent named Shawn was busy scoping out a grocery store when he spotted someone a bit hairier than the usual coupon-clipping crowd. Yes, a black bear—again with the bears—was shopping for snacks or possibly just looking for the world’s largest honey jar. This bold bear just ambled past the frozen food, rounded the corner, and made straight for Shawn, who responded with a burst of language strong enough to ensure his Yelp review for the store will appear under “Wildlife Encounters.”

And to complete today’s trifecta of things you didn’t ask for, while you wrestle with the idea of bears learning to drive or buying groceries, you might be comforted to know that elsewhere, someone got a barcode tattooed on her back to scan like a package of beef jerky at Costco. It actually scanned and everything. I guess Scan and Go is really becoming a lifestyle.

So the next time your day feels bland or your commute seems pointless, remember: Somewhere, a bear is locked in a car, someone is inventorying the weirdest groceries ever, and at least one person is actively living as human merchandise. And honestly, you did not need to know any of it—but isn’t life just a little bit weirder and better now that you do?

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In the ever-crowded buffet of truly unnecessary news, let me serve you today’s piping hot, slightly bizarre dish: a confused opossum in Kansas who decided to try out urban living and wound up staging a break-in. Now, possums are usually more about nighttime road crossings and garbage can explorations, but this particular furball went above and beyond by getting trapped inside someone’s house in Shawnee. Not exactly the high-stakes burglary you'd expect; this guy’s greatest loot seems to have been sheer panic and the dubious honor of becoming an involuntary Airbnb guest.

Police in Kansas, trained in everything from traffic stops to wrangling humans, discovered their expertise now includes marsupial mediation. They were called in to evict this unwelcome tenant and restore calm to a household whose biggest prior intrusion may have been a raccoon sifting through the recycling. Imagine the officer’s face, expecting a routine squatter situation, and finding a fuzzy, pointy-faced opossum wondering how it pivoted from woodland mischief to a starring role in a suburban heist. The animal was safely released outdoors, no charges filed—possums apparently have excellent lawyers when it comes to breaking and entering.

This isn’t even the first time lately that animals have upstaged humans in “crimes.” Just days ago, in New York, a raccoon was caught on camera stealing a package from someone’s porch. Is there an underground animal Amazon delivery business we don’t know about? Because if so, my squirrel neighbors have some explaining to do.

Then there’s the Michigan man whose Powerball ticket turned out to be three times more valuable than expected. Somewhere, an opossum is planning its own lottery heist, but for now, our Kansas critter will just have to settle for fame instead of fortune.

There’s a running theme this week: animals are breaking records, breaking into homes, and generally ignoring the rules of species-appropriate behavior. British iguanas hatched without fathers, a gecko hitched a ride in a suitcase from Portugal to Guernsey, and a Kentucky nurse had to revive a baby raccoon who got drunk eating fermented peaches. Nature really needs a better PR team.

But it’s good to know that when life starts feeling too normal, somewhere, somehow, an opossum is redefining real estate, a raccoon is committing porch piracy, or an iguana is defying basic biology. Next time you worry your life is getting boring, just remember: one police officer in Kansas woke up yesterday and had to explain to his colleagues, “I evicted a trespassing opossum.” And if that doesn’t make you feel better about your own day, maybe check your attic—there might be a party and you didn’t get the invite.

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