Hanoi-based ESL teacher outsmarts 97 percent of climate scientists

Predictably, Tây Hồ, Hanoi – Following a few choice words from a 16-year-old Swedish girl on the topic of global warming, netizens of Vietnam have descended – once more – into the sort of cannibalistic frenzy that even piranhas look down on.

Fortunately for the Vietnam-based owners of eyeballs and Facebook accounts, local Heads, Shoulders, Knees & Toes conductor and self-proclaimed language teacher Daniel Grotto has today shamed the world’s scientific community into silence with his vastly superior understanding of issues pertaining to climate science.

This incredible story of David – or rather Daniel – versus Goliath saw Grotto take on 97 percent of the world’s leading climate experts, who agree that human behaviour is invariably contributing to global warming, and remarkably, despite his decidedly useless degree in Life Studies from the esteemed School of Hard Knocks, Grotto came off the victor.

The PowerPoint mastermind and long-term ESL lackey has previously vocalised his support for U.S. president and tangerine buffoon, Donald Trump, despite Grotto lacking the necessary passport required to vote in American elections.

The 44-year-old Canadian thoughtfully rallied his cognitive capabilities against the decades of extensive research conducted by people employed in specific field of researching climatology and environmental sciences.

“Greta’s just a puppet,” sneered Grotto, content in his ignorance of Trump’s appointing of numerous fossil fuel puppets like Secretary of Energy and the largest hamster to ever fit in a suit, Rick Perry, to run his administration.

“I just don’t get why glorious Emperor God-Trump didn’t put her in a cage with all the other children he disagrees with,” said a confused Grotto, in an apparent reference to the 74 percent rise in border prosecutions that occurred following then Attorney General Jeff Sessions, shortly before Sessions attempted suicide by marijuana.

“He would’ve just grabbed her by the pussy and slam-dunked her into an ICE detention centre,” added Grotto, who despite having a 28 year head-start is still less employable than the average 16-year-old.

The wise words of Grotto sparked the hanging of heads in shame among the global scientific community who, now, following Grotto’s midnight Facebook posts where he decried global warming as a hoax, would need to rethink every single peer-reviewed article written, every hour spent studying to further their understanding and every single time they had pitted their wits against the mighty intellectual prowess of an ESL teacher in Vietnam.

“Anyone who relies on teenagers is a fucking moron,” gloated the man whose salary literally relies upon teenagers.

“All these Western liberal cucks whining about climate change after they flew to Vietnam is ridiculous,” dribbled Grotto, who himself spends every waking hour of his existence following American politics via Breitbart and other semi-literate outlets.

“The best part is, if I’m right and climate change is a hoax, I can brag on Facebook and if I’m wrong and the earth is catastrophically doomed through the misuse of finite resources, then I’ll be dead before the apocalyptic rioting engulfs Hanoi – it’s a win-win!” grinned Grotto as he donned his 3M pollution mask and drove off into the smoggy sunset, apparently needing to get home to record another YouTube vlog to his two subscribers.

More on this story as more grown men get angry at being told off by a child.

‘Be’ marketing manager shocked to learn rape pre-dates hot pants

Ba Đình, Hanoi – Following consultations with company lawyers and Google, marketing manager at home-grown ride-hailing service ‘Be,’ Nguyen Đồ Ngốc was earlier this week horrified to establish that rape does in fact pre-date hot pants, miniskirts and other items of women’s clothing.

The revelation came after Nguyen and his team released a series of advertisements for the ride-hailing app, notably asking women to cover their legs, lest drivers become distracted.

“While we initially toyed with the idea of simply asking women to remove their legs before travelling with ‘Be’ that was deemed barbaric, impractical and didn’t really resonate with any of the focus groups we did,” explained a perplexed Nguyen.

Claiming that he and his team only ever sought to further protect their beloved customers, Nguyen went on to explain alternative ideas of protecting women that now seemed obsolete given his recent discovery of the prevalence of rape throughout human history.

“We pondered with the idea of making all female passengers don chainmail or, where possible, a cast-iron deep sea diving suit – doing anything to present themselves as an amorphous blob of shapelessness – but all of this feels so foolish and narrow-minded when rape appears to have existed long before revealing items of women’s clothing,” he added with a grave shake of the head.

The visibly depressed marketer confessed that he had always understood the violation of a woman’s sovereignty over her own body to have stemmed from “evil clothes” that he believed “whispered in a voice that only men could hear” and convinced them to overlook a woman’s humanity.

“This always seemed like such a cut and dry scenario,” explained Nguyen, scratching his head.

“Is there nothing that we, a company profiting from cheap labour in a gig economy, can do to prevent sexual assault without incurring additional expenditure?” he lamented, before going on to detail very specific blueprints for a pair of goggles that limit a driver’s field of vision to above the neck.

Online outrage has poured forth like a torrent of piss at a bia hoi and has soiled the reputation of the fledgling ride-hailing service, with numerous netizens highlighting the obvious victim-blaming aspect of the advert.

“It just felt less like a warning and more like a disclaimer, as though the driver could be blind drunk and yet blame for the crash and the deaths of those involved could be pinned firmly on my ankles for not being properly covered,” wrote one woman.

But as with any issue pertaining to the internet in Vietnam, a cacophonous gaggle of scarcely pubescent males raised concerns that ‘Be’ was unfairly criticised for its stance.

“So some uppity feminist SJWs don’t want to get groped by their drivers, but that doesn’t mean they have to spoil it for the rest of us,” wrote one man using a cartoon penguin for his Facebook profile.

At the time of writing the death toll is rising as many of ‘Be’s marketing team perished en route to a company retreat – it is thought that the driver of their bus became distracted by one of the team’s decision to wear shorts. More as we get it.

Heart-warming: Young buffalo makes grandma breakfast after night of meth-fuelled vehicular crimes

Long Biên, Hanoi – In scenes of uncharacteristic heart-tickling sweetness, ruffian, yobbo and committed Trẻ Trâu, Nguyen Kẻ Xấu returned home at approximately 6.15am following a long night of drug-spangled criminal capers just to make his beloved Bà breakfast.

The self-proclaimed young buffalo had spent the night cavorting around with a disparate band of Hanoi’s wasted youth, all sporting various tasteful Playboy tattoos, cockatoo haircuts and a lust for life that would make Iggy Pop turn in his eventual grave.

But while his gang of malnourished ragamuffins went home to polish their gaudy bling, take topless selfies and presumably try not to cry while failing to masturbate as the cheap meth they’d all enjoyed hours earlier rendered their dicks a sorry sight of lifeless, flaccid jokes, Nguyen instead used his amphetamine granted powers to whip up a delightful breakfast for his dear Granny.

“It’s just amazing that he can walk in the door at this hour, with all that energy, after such a long night studying with his friends,” exclaimed an overjoyed Bà Nguyen, as her grandson frantically dashed around the kitchen in a cold sweat.

“And then he goes and does something so sweet like this?” she added.

Younger siblings of the adorable little gangster watched on with a curious mix of horror and bemusement, immediately noticing their brother’s engorged pupils and the way his jaw was going round like a washing machine full of teeth.

“I’ve got to admit though, he’s not slept – just an hour ago, he was probably pulling wheelies to get away from the cops and trying to steal beer from Circle J, but his craftsmanship on that bánh cuốn is legit masterful,” chuckled 16-year-old Nguyen Khỉ Táo Bạo as he watched the drugs whirl his older brother around the family kitchen.

“I mean seriously, he can barely see right now – he’s been cockeyed since he got in, but you’d barely know from the way he handles the rice sheets, just stunning really.”

To go from the pounding bass of yet another night dancing to Vinahouse in various states of undress to slaving selflessly away in the kitchen for his family not only shows the tender side of Nguyen who, just four hours earlier, was beating the living shit out of a karaoke waiter, but it also reminds us all of the power of family bonds.

“To tell the truth, we were going to slap that boy into shape,” admits beaming father, Nguyen Thiết Quyền.

“Between the mullet and the faux-hard-man tattoos, I always assumed we'd have to have him put down, but seeing him at work in the kitchen this morning – I think I’ll save the beatings for another day,” Nguyen confides.

When approached for comment on his benevolent behaviour, Nguyen Kẻ Xấu simply spat at our reporter, saying he’d got “a hot bitch” upstairs and that was who the food is for.

House-cleaner clearly losing passion for job

Cầu Giấy, Hanoi – Residents of an expat house share in Cầu Giấy have today expressed concern for the mental wellbeing of their house-cleaner following the discovery of largely unclean areas throughout their abode.

“I popped my head in the bathroom and she was like, just standing there, pointing the showerhead at one spot on the wall,” said Christopher Smuttings, a relatively recent addition to the house that Nguyen Đụ Nó is paid expected to clean in three hours in exchange for just 150,000VND.

Smuttings, an English teacher by day – hangover permitting – claimed that Nguyen’s passion for mopping up his shit might be waning, citing a notable lack of enthusiasm and dedication to the craft of janitorial duties.

“Honestly – I’m two hundred percent sure she just sprays the shower over everything in the bathroom, maybe if we paid her more she could appreciate why toilet paper needs to stay dry, but I feel that if this isn’t for her, then maybe she should just drop it all to follow her dreams – that’s what I was always privileged enough to believe,” said the British man who, in all his 26 years of life, had never once expressed an interest in teaching.

With the cockroach faeces piling up faster than the empty Bia Hanoi cans that adorned virtually every horizontal surface of the Cầu Giấy residence, Nguyen’s three-hour performance has recently left a number of the housemates cold.

“Her heart’s just not in it anymore, I mean where are the little mints that go on the pillow? She might be in her 60s, but what? She can’t put her back into the crusted semen on my sheets? More crucially, why does she leave when she’s done – we’re only going to make it dirty again and there’s a perfectly good cupboard under the stairs for her to stay in with her cleaning equipment,” lamented long-term American resident Jenn-Casandra de Voight.

“I swear she used to have a little something called passion when it came to dealing with those stubborn ceramic stains, but now I feel like she’s let the interminable cycle of decay that we inflict upon her weekly has really broken her spirit – she won’t even touch my vomit-coated laundry now,” she added.

At this point, de Voight revealed that to aid the plight of Nguyen, she would leave a self-help novel entitled “Reigniting the Flames of Custodian Passion” under the sofa for Nguyen to find next week and claims to shed a tear for all of Hanoi’s working class, despite jackals not possessing tear ducts.

When contacted for comment, Nguyen Đụ Nó simply giggled “Those little fuckheads have no idea I’ve been farting in their fridge for weeks now.”

At the time of writing Smuttings and de Voight were gladly gorging on their 280,000VND block of cheese from Annam Gourmet.

Hanoi sharks reportedly migrating south to Saigon’s metro lines

Quận 1, Saigon – Top ranking Vietnamese sources have today confirmed Saigon’s fury with Hanoi authorities for using up all of the good excuses regarding delays to the capital’s metro line. The diplomatic spat erupted earlier this month following reports from Hanoi that sharks had been migrating south with the specific intention of chewing on the metro line currently underway in Saigon.

Officials from HCMC have rebuked this claim, noting that the situation is far more complex than this by adding that the delays were in part due to a change in weather – compounding the issue further, this shift in meteorological patterns had turned the construction site of Saigon’s metro line into a literal breeding ground for sharks.

“Not only are these delays directly related to sharks chewing at the lines and mauling contractors, the atmospheric changes here have tricked the sharks into thinking it’s mating season,” revealed one low-level authoritarian from the HCMC local administration. “We believe the rampant orgies and battles for dominance to secure a mate is adding to the sharks’ appetites, as such the metro line won’t be operational until at least 2021.”

The first two metro lines in Saigon are well into their seventh year of construction in an apparent contest with Hanoi to test the limits of what the Vietnamese public will believe as rumours of corruption, kickbacks and special interests circulate like a warm fart in a cold elevator.

“Corruption? Good God no!” spat one anonymous Saigonese bureaucrat. “It’s the horny sharks from Hanoi that have ruined our glorious public transit system that will, upon completion, hand mastership of the roads and skies once more to their rightful owners – the Vietnamese public and, of course, the Party.”

One Hanoi-based journalist who wished to remain anonymous hinted at the existence of documents somewhere deep in the bowels of the Politburo that insinuate a sly move from Hanoi to dispatch a team of distinctly incompetent contractors to “oversee” construction on the Saigon metro line and to “advise” wherever possible, although this is yet to be confirmed.

With neither of the major Vietnamese cities managing to understand quite what a public transport system ought to look like, The Durian took to the streets to explore the brain of the average Nguyen on the issue of metro lines and pathetic excuses.

“I just think it’s nice that we, as Hanoians, can put to bed the – what you might call, history – of our two great cities to appreciate just how desperately inept our city planners are,” said Nguyen Đi Tù, a local xe ôm driver.

“There is more that unites us than divides us,” he added.

Meanwhile Nguyen Chết Mất, a lifelong Saigon resident and recent graduate in the performing arts explained the existing tensions from his own dramatic perspective.

“Do I feel a brotherly bond with the northern taxpayers who are funding this nightmarish large-scale Lego disaster-piece? Yes, but I’d really appreciate it if they could at least leave our administration some better excuses – it’s getting embarrassing having to listen to officials talking about migratory shark orgies when clearly, more obvious factors are at work.”

At press time officials from both the north and south had entered a game of brinkmanship, each  repeatedly delaying their respective metros one year longer than the other, pushing the expected operational schedules back to 3028.

Tinder date gets hands on wrong kind of dong

Ba Đình, Hanoi – Awaking with dim memories of rice wine induced carnal pleasures, 24-year-old Albert Strong was today paying the price of a one-night stand, upon learning that his Tinderella had vanished, along with his stash of ill-gotten đồng.

Strong, a teacher by day, DJ by night and all-round embarrassment to his family, rapidly established the true cost of his ill-fated date when he found the secret cash-filled sock under his pillow to be missing.

“I probably should’ve known this would happen,” sighed a visibly hungover Strong, “Most women don’t get my cerebral humour – she just couldn’t get her head around any of the bánh mì jokes I was making, even when I did it like, really obvious, sticking my finger into my sandwich.”

Unbeknownst to Strong, the one-time DJ and full-type tedious arse makes regular cameos on Hanoi Beautiful where reviews of his romantic prowess range from “an elaborate, oxygen-thieving, STD delivery mechanism” to “He fell on top of me with all the simmering passion of a dead tree and then tried to put it in my belly button.”

With last night’s rice wine still hanging around him like a cloud of ethanol, Strong estimated he had lost somewhere between 4 to 6 million VND – a sum he is yet to make through DJing, but one that he assures reporters could be made up in a few Kindergarten classes.

“To be fair,” he said, assessing the damage, “I guess this makes it cheaper than most of the times that women let me be naked with them.”

Cecilia Surmont, the đồng-and-dash lady in question, was eventually tracked down by The Durian but showed minimal remorse for the previous night’s theft.

“After the fifth shot and the seventh joke about me being a hooker, I just sort of followed his eyes when he laughed nervously about paying me in the morning,” she explained, “All it took was about 30 seconds of shrimp-surfing and then time get some real đồng.

“Honestly, I thought I’d feel worse than I do, but given the level of corruption here and the fact that Albert’s neither a real teacher nor a real DJ, it sort of felt like par for the course,” she said with a smile.

At press time the two were preparing for their second date.

“No mercury in lightbulbs,” insists government official in hazmat suit

Secret underground bunker, Hanoi – Addressing residents of the capital city through a pre-recorded message, a junior government official sporting a rather fetching hazmat suit has today confirmed that everything is absolutely under control.

Fogging up the helmet of his hazmat suit, Nguyen Vô Danh excitedly rattled off a series of reassuring remarks designed to quell the rising paranoia and fear that has gripped Tây Hồ following the lightbulb factory that was set ablaze on August 29^th.

“Please remain calm, the panic is entirely unnecessary,” stammered a frantic Nguyen from an undisclosed location, “Please understand, lightbulbs are harmless – there are even Vietnamese recipes that contain such lightbulbs, we feed them to children to make them strong and bright, everything is fine, perhaps the weather has changed, but please go about your day with hope in your hearts and air in your lungs.”

The transmission, broadcast through all available state media ended with Nguyen ensuring that any warnings issued prior had been issued in error and that Tây Hồ residents should simply trust in the unfaltering track record of the government.

Meanwhile on the surface world, the depressingly white district of Tây Hồ was surging with an energy reminiscent of Black Friday, with every pair of hands itching their way through the uncertainty and repeatedly demanding to know where mercury testing kits are sold, but despite the hysteria, no mass shootings have yet been reported.

The Durian can exclusively reveal that at least one expat has died since the blaze, but sources later confirmed this was after the unidentified American had taped a plastic bag around his head to protect himself.

Speaking with The Durian to voice his concerns, Adam Stroud remains unconvinced by the government’s comprehensively soothing message.

“I can’t believe this,” he cried petulantly into the possibly toxic air, “It’s an insult to our intelligence that they’re trying to cover this up!

“I might not have a medical background and as an evangelical Baptist, certainly I can’t trust any of ‘science’ involved,” he said, making air quotes, “But my lack of teaching certification hasn’t stopped me from making a living in a classroom.”

Conversely, Professor Tuyên Truyền at the University of Scyence sees no reason to be alarmed.

“In all my years of existence, I can’t think of a single instance in which a one-party state would compromise the health and future of its citizens for the sake of saving face by lying about the potential harm of a toxic chemical incident, so frankly this seems like a lot of overblown nonsense,” claimed the professor, adding that those seeking to discredit the government’s official stance were perhaps themselves afflicted by toxic fumes released by the recent lightbulb factory fire.

For many, the issue of unbreathable air was nothing new and warranted no special fanfare in Hanoi. 

Among this vocal demographic, part-time environmentalist and full-time stoner Chad Williams explained why the calamity is unnecessary.

“Firstly, if you’re only just choosing to consider the quality of the air you breathe and the food you eat, you’re a moron and secondly, whether the lightbulbs contained mercury, mercury amalgam or some other alloy or if they contained nothing harmful to humans, we’re all going to die regardless because, spoiler alert, we die at the end,” he shouted into a megaphone whilst walking down Tô Ngọc Vân.

“Don’t think of this toxic spill as cutting lives short, think of it as expediting nature’s paperwork!”

More on this story if we're all alive next week.

“Nothing colonial about the way I live,” says Tây Hồ teacher

Tây Hồ, Hanoi – As the nation reluctantly returns to the putrid swamp of gainful employment following Vietnam’s 74^th Independence Day, local Tây Hồ turd, Kevin Jennings, is today denying claims that aspects of his life could be considered dimly colonial.

The long weekend commemorated Hồ Chí Minh’s historic 1945 reading of the Declarations of Independence in Ba Đình Square, where he addressed the nation to inform them that they were at last free from the scourge of foreign empires. Jennings meanwhile spent the national holiday drunkenly berating Hanoi’s netizens.

“Honestly, this has been a huge misunderstanding,” pleads Jennings, who recently spunked a prime wad of gibberish onto Facebook, causing others to suggest he may indeed be a neo-colonial piece of shit.

“There’s nothing colonial about the way I live,” argues the 24-year-old Tây Hồ resident and part-time ESL teacher after looking up the word colonial.

“Yes, I have a maid who cleans up all my detritus and washes designer underwear that she couldn’t afford after a year of wiping up my vomit puddles, but I think she likes me” he contends, “I always give her a big smile and sometimes even a 15,000 VND tip – if I’ve had a particularly big weekend of shagging.”

Typically ignorant to the fact that his monthly spend on pizza alone is more than the average salary of many Vietnamese citizens, Jennings confesses he still hides the money from his cash-in-hand English teaching gig whenever the cleaner comes.

“It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I just can’t know what she’s thinking and I earned that money fair and square – yes, as an illegal immigrant lacking both paperwork and the intention of doing any real good during my time here, but I stood in those classrooms for the allotted time period and so they paid me, it’s up to me where I hide it,” he says, becoming defensive.

“Sure, I drink and drive and it’s true I’m yet to face a single consequence for any of my actions since moving here, but I am a teacher, I’m here to educate,” he states plainly, “Well, that and get rich, laid and fucked up.

“Of course I’d love to learn the local language, but it’s really very difficult, too many vowels or whatever – so for the sake of ease, I’d appreciate it if we could just all use my language – English – which you can pay me handsomely to teach to your youth, despite the fact that I graduated with a BA in Aromatherapy and Horticulture and am yet to find gainful employment outside of a supermarket back home, but I am however, very, very white,” he says in a breathless splurge of ignorance.

“Some people have told me that there’s a certain irony to moving to a country less economically developed than my own, not even trying to learn the language and extorting countless hopeful locals who believe I’m their ticket to a better future courtesy of my inherited English, but I’ve not reached the chapter on irony in my TEFL course yet, so personally I don’t see a problem with the current system,” he admits with a bashful smile that manages to colonise his entire face.

The interview ended abruptly, after Jennings was asked how he celebrated Independence Day, to which he asked if Will Smith was Vietnamese.