Coconutdaddy Productions

Well, Fortnite fam, remember that time you clicked once and BOOM — your in-game avatar suddenly had a new skin, 3 emotes, and a shiny pickaxe you didn’t want, all while your real wallet screamed in pain? Yeah, so does the Federal Trade Commission. 😏💥 Epic Games is coughing up a cool $520 million (insert evil laugh here) in one of the most expensive “Oops, our bad” moments in gaming history. Turns out they allegedly: 💳 Charged players for in-game junk no one asked for 🧒 Let children go full capitalist chaos with their parents’ credit cards 🔒 Then locked accounts when people dared say “Hey, this is fraud” Way to double down, Epic. This class action settlement is basically Fortnite’s version of the Battle Royale — only this time, it’s your refund that’s dropping from the sky instead of loot. 💰🪂 🧾 Who Gets Paid? If you played Fortnite in the U.S. between January 2017 and September 2022 , and: You got charged for unwanted items, Your kid went on a V-Bucks b...

Well, well, well — it looks like the Denver Nuggets are doing a little Marie Kondo-ing of their payroll, and guess what didn’t spark joy? Michael Porter Jr. 💸✈️ The man with the $40 million jump shot is being shipped off to Brooklyn with an unprotected 2032 first-round pick (because nothing screams future regret like giving away a pick nine years from now). In return, the Nuggets snagged Cameron Johnson — aka Diet MPJ with better knees and a lighter salary. Cam’s cap hit is just $21 million next season (a bargain in NBA Monopoly money), which means Denver just dropped financial deadweight like it's going out of style. 📉💰 Tale of the Tape: MPJ: 18.2 PPG, 39.5% from 3, $38M+ CJ: 18.8 PPG, 39% from 3, $21M Do the math. One is cheaper and more mobile; the other is... well, in Brooklyn now. But wait — Denver didn’t stop there. They also brought back Bruce Brown, the guy who actually helped them win something in 2023 ( ahem , a ring), on a vet minimum deal. Let’s be hon...

Let’s be real, folks — if you really want to light a fire under Canada’s famously chill backside, all you have to do is suggest turning it into the 51st U.S. state. 💁‍♂️🇺🇸➡️🇨🇦 Cue national side-eye. So this Canada Day, forget the polite golf claps and double-doubles — people showed up in slogan armor. The T-shirts were loud, the messages were louder: “Canada is Not For Sale,” “Elbows Up,” and the ultimate spicy maple leaf mic-drop — “Never 51.” 🔥🍁✋ Apparently, Donald Trump’s trade war cosplay and recurring fantasy of adding Canada to the U.S. starter pack was the last straw. Tariffs on maple syrup, dairy, steel, and general politeness? Now it’s personal. Enter: Jim Kamp, a once-laidback British Columbian who booked a ticket from Vi ctoria to Ottawa just to flex his newfound, turbocharged patriotism in the nation's capital. Jim rocked a firetruck-red “Never 51” tee like he was auditioning for the next Molson Canadian commercial. “I wasn’t a very strong patriotic Canadian u...

In a battle that smells like high-end detergent and middle-class rebellion, Lululemon has had enough. No more “Tidewater Teal” dupes. No more $20 Kirkland ABC pants pretending to be their $130 enlightened counterparts. No more wholesale hypocrisy, darling. 😤🧘‍♂️ The yoga overlords have officially filed a lawsuit against Costco , accusing the warehouse giant of fashion fraud . Allegedly, Costco has been peddling knockoff Scuba hoodies, Define jackets, and those oh-so-cushy ABC pants at prices so low they make Lulu’s buttery-soft price tags weep. And if you squint? Yeah, those $20 Costco joggers do look suspiciously “aligned.” Let’s be honest. Fashion knockoffs have been around since Cleopatra rocked a dupe of Nefertiti’s eyeliner. But in this economy? Snagging a Lulu dupe is practically a survival skill. TikTok’s “dupe” hashtag has BILLIONS of views. If your leggings don’t have a bootleg logo and a side of moral ambiguity, are you even Gen Z? 💅📱 But Lululemon is not stretching th...

  Alright, spy junkies, Cold War buffs, and Gregory Peck stans — it’s Friday Night , and tonight’s cinematic platter serves up some steaming-hot international intrigue with “The Chairman” (1969) — aka “that movie where Atticus Finch goes full 007, but with way more anxiety and fewer gadgets.” 😎🎖️ Let’s break this down: Gregory Peck plays a Nobel-winning biochemist (naturally) recruited to infiltrate Communist China (because of course scientists make the best spies?) and retrieve a top-secret agricultural enzyme formula that could change the food game forever. 🧪🌾 Yes, this is an actual plot. And yes, it somehow works. But wait — it gets weirder. Our dignified hero is equipped with a transmitter implanted IN HIS SKULL and a self-destruct mechanism in his sweat glands . That’s right: he literally has a sweaty suicide button . I mean... nothing screams “classic cinema” like death-by-perspiration. 💦💥 Along the way, he dodges bullets, philosophizes about East vs. West, and s...

Alright, mummy maniacs and lovers of low-budget archaeology — it’s Thursday Night and you know what that means: another B-movie gem rising from the cinematic tomb to give you ancient curses, questionable wigs, and acting stiffer than the titular undead. Welcome to Pharaoh’s Curse (1957) — a movie that dares to ask, “What if we raided a tomb... and absolutely no one had a clue what they were doing?” 🧟‍♂️🎭 You know the drill. Some overly confident white dudes wearing linen safari suits (because apparently that's standard tomb gear) stumble into a forbidden burial site with a token blonde and a cursed cat-eyed guide — and before you can say “Tutankham-WHO?”, all hell breaks loose. 🐫💨 There’s a mummy on the loose, a sandstorm of melodrama, and enough “ancient Egyptian lore” to make any historian spontaneously combust. Honestly, it’s like someone watched The Mummy (1932), took none of the notes, and said, “Let’s do that... but on a tight budget and with weirder eyebrows.” This fi...

Look, we know you’ve been working hard all week. You're tired. You're overwhelmed. You’ve had enough real-world horror for one week (looking at you, group chats and gas prices 😒). So why not unwind with some truly ridiculous terror from the atomic-age imagination tank known as Blood Beast From Outer Space ? Yes, that is 100% a real movie title. And no, there is no refund on your dignity once you admit you watched it. But hear us out... 👀 This 1965 British sci-fi/horror romp (originally titled The Night Caller ) crashes into your Wednesday night with all the subtlety of a radioactive rubber alien on a bad Tinder date. 👽💅 Strange beings are abducting women (sci-fi bingo ✅), scientists are baffled (surprise! they're all men), and London is ground zero for an intergalactic creep show. It's like The X-Files if Mulder had less charisma and the aliens had more weird tentacles. 🛸💄 The film tries very hard to be atmospheric — bless it — but let’s be real, we’re he...

Alright folks, buckle up your raincoats and pack your sarcasm, because we’re heading straight into The Old Dark House — a film so soaked in shadows and dripping in delightful dysfunction, it practically invented the phrase “creepy family drama.” 🕯️👀 Picture it: 1932. A storm rages, the road is washed out, and a bunch of unlucky travelers are forced to take shelter in the least welcoming Airbnb on Earth — a crumbling gothic mansion that screams, “We definitely practice human taxidermy in the basement.” 💦🏚️ What follows is 72 minutes of lightning, lunacy, and lantern-lit loitering as a household of unhinged weirdos hosts their very damp, very suspicious guests. You’ve got a pyromaniac locked in the attic, a beady-eyed butler who might be dead inside (or just British), and a matriarch who talks like she’s been drinking embalming fluid since the silent era. 🍷💀 The Old Dark House is like if Clue , The Addams Family , and your great-aunt’s attic all had a baby, then left it out i...

Alright, kids — gather ‘round the pentagram-shaped TV tray, because Monday night is summoning something special . That’s right, it’s time for the low-budget, high-camp, satanic suburban shocker that is The Devil’s Hand (1961). You ever wanted a movie where joining a cult seems easier than unsubscribing from an email list? Well, welcome to your Monday. 😈📩 Imagine this: you’re a perfectly average dude with a perfectly average fiancée and then—bam! You see a creepy mannequin that looks like your literal dream woman in the window of a cursed doll shop. Naturally, you run toward it instead of away. 🔮🚩 Because what’s more romantic than dark forces and waxy stares? Enter the cult: The Sons of the Burning Hand. (Yes, that’s their actual name, and no, they don’t moisturize.) This satanic knitting circle worships an evil goddess, wears matching robes, and apparently hosts the creepiest mixers in the tri-state area. You’ve never seen palm reading, voodoo, and spiritual betrayal crammed int...