Heartbreaking: Kansas Man Tragically Survives Plane Crash
Trust me, I hate myself for giving such a pathetically perpendicular and unbearably boring state even more attention, but I genuinely have such a burning, unbridled hatred for Kansas that I have to acknowledge their biggest (and saddest) news story in nearly a decade.
(Apologies if one of my coworkers already covered this.)
The Salina Post, which is the “prominent news outlet” of the decaying, wheat-washed North-Central Kansas micropolitan area, reported today that a man crashed his plane in a local Harvey County field and morbidly survived unharmed without the opportunity to get life-flighted to a different state.
The tallest noun in the state of Kansas, the Salina water tower, is conveniently used as a suicide marketing campaign that encourages residents and visitors to justifiably end it all in their town as soon as possible.
Salina’s official website, which is also promoted on the state’s tallest and most famous monument, actually redirects to a popular “Incel” subreddit thread about the perks of voluntary death.
Harvey County, where the tragic plane crash survival took place, is named after Cornelius M. Harvey who is moderately “famous” for trying and failing to make slavery mainstream in Kansas in the mid 19th century. Imagine being so fucking wack that you’re only legacy is being a “wannabe slave owner.” Imagine being such a fucking loser that you involuntarily failed at being super racist.
Harvey County is so unbelievably backwards, uneventful, and aesthetically-repulsive that it has to use paintings—?instead of real photographs, which have existed for two centuries now—to depict its most notable attractions, on the internet, in the year 2019.
“Hey kids, what do you say we head into town and check out the Carnegie Library?”
“No thanks, pa. We’re just gonna go out back and eat grass until we’re sick as a pup, so ma will let us take sleep medicine again.”
Whether you’re seeking out Cholera from the polluted liquids of the Harvey County Parks East pond, or bed buds from the outdated playground equipment of King Park, Harvey County offers a wide variety of afflictions. Also, they have a house and…the woods.
Advertisement
This is the official and only photograph of the (2019) incident (not 1989) used by the Salina Post. Their team of journalist showed up to the scene with his government-issued Samsung Juke and snapped this professional pic before hightailing it out of there in his John Deere E100, so he could take his lunch break at the nearest Shell gas station that still has day-old hot dogs on rotation . The picture actually looks like it was taken with a Tamagotchi Pet, which makes sense, considering the state of Kansas hasn’t progressed technologically, scientifically, academically, ideologically, morally, or athletically since at least 1997.
“Patton #9, we’re pressed on time! Fax that picture to me ASAP before the Topeka Times beats us to the story!”
Here’s the official story:
SALINA POST – The Kansas Highway Patrol reported a Cessna 140 piloted by Bill V. Patton, 68, Wichita, suffered total engine failure at low altitude and low speed. The pilot attempted an emergency landing in a field north of the runway at Newton City-County Airport. The Cessna touched down just prior to reaching a fence. It struck the fence, a small tree, flipped over the nose and came to rest on the top. Patton was not injured. The FAA will investigate the accident.
Not even injured. Doesn’t even get some prescription pills to alleviate the pain of living in West Biblefuck, Kansas.
Plus, this guy Bill Patton, which I’d imagine is the full name of every adult male in the state of Kansas, is 68 fucking years old. He couldn’t have been more ready to go. Imagine spending 68 years in Kansas. I haven’t imagined something so depressingly close to 69 since I visualized Seth Green trying to foreplay with his wife.
But in all seriousness, pray for the man who crashed his plan and unintentionally survived. I can’t imagine waking up after such an expertly-devised plan and realizing you’re still conscious in Kansas. And as much as I’d hate to offer any blessings to 2.9 million of my most mortal enemies, please pray that Kansans find the strength to make it through another weekend of insufferable boredom.
Alright, I’m done for another few months, Kansas. I’m from a much worse and more roast-worthy state, so feel free to come back at me. In all seriousness, S/O to the legend Bill Patton for surviving that shit.
But still…fuck you, Kansas.