Bonk House Weekly

Marine Animal That I Would Like to Put My Hand and/or Body Into

Following several viewings of nature documentaries due to the ingestion of substances, Ms. Kriofsky has formally named the top marine animal that she would like to insert her hand, arm, and/or body into: the giant oceanic manta ray. Reigning as the largest species of ray in the world, the giant oceanic manta ray can reach up to 23 feet wide and weight up to 6,600 pounds. More commonly, however, they tend to measure about 15 feet in width. The sheer size of this behemoth plays a large role in Ms. Kriofsky’s desire to place some or all of her corporeal form within the beast.

The other main factor contributing to Ms. Kriofsky’s fascination with the giant oceanic manta ray is the visibility of nearly the entire skeleton of this creature from its gaping maw. When asked for comment, Ms. Kriofsky simply stated, “I want to poke and prod at its bones and also the flesh between its bones. Aren’t you curious if it feels fat and meaty? Or if it’s more like skin stretching over a drum?” While our editors did not reach out to any psychiatric healthcare professionals regarding this comment, our team does remain worried about the mental status of Ms. Kriofsky.

Actually, That’s More Beer Than I Thought

A recent winning bid in a local charity auction brought approximately one (1) fuckload of beer into the Bonk House. Hailed as “La Tour de Bière,” (The Tower of Beer) and comprised of 180 cans of locally brewed craft beer, Ms. Kriofsky’s interest was immediately piqued. When bidding on the tower opened in late August, she jumped on that shit expeditiously by outbidding what would turn out to be her only rival in the battle for the beers. Several days passed, and Ms. Kriofsky remained the top bidder. As the hours left on the auction wound down, she anxiously refreshed her bid page. On the heels of a week from hell, she was desperate for a win.

Finally, Ms. Kriofsky received an email that was surely heralded to her inbox by angels: “Late Summer Auction Winner Information.” She quickly contacted her charity contact and confirmed she would be picking up her voluminous prize later that day.

Upon arrival at the pick-up location, Ms. Kriofsky was greeted by a rolling cart laden with a truly incredible amount of beer. After loading the beer into her vehicle, which now rode noticeably lower, she made her way home where she brought in the equivalent of one single case of beer. With assistance from a third-party, she did eventually tote several more cases upstairs, but limitations put in place by back pain and lack of storage capacity have hampered the apartment-ward trajectory of the libations, and roughly half of Ms. Kriofsky’s tour de bière remains in the truck of her car.

Stupid Fucking Idiot Machine Breaks Down

For much of the month of August, the universe conspired against Ms. Kriofsky, determined to maximize her misery. These cosmic efforts culminated in a flat tire disaster on August 29, 2025, as the tire part of Ms. Kriofsky’s tire became detached from the wheel part of her wheel. For those well-versed in cars, you may note that this is decidedly not what should be happening. This was a lesson taught to Ms. Kriofsky the hard way.

After briefly crying, she began the business of changing the tire, with manual labor technical support on the phone in the form of Mr. Dave. Despite being a strong, independent woman on the verge of tears, approximately 3-5 men offered their assistance. After politely declining help from several pedestrians, Ms. Kriofsky opted to accept the charity of a man who fully pulled over his vehicle. Gabriel, who has four sisters, deftly changed the tire while Ms. Kriofsky just sort of stood in the road and tried really hard not to cry.

Eventually, Ms. Kriofsky was able to limp her vehicle home, where she promptly began sobbing and catastrophizing. Throughout the evening she had a number of increasingly inebriated conversations with a number of loved ones that left her feeling emotionally drained, deeply incompetent, and praying for a sinkhole to appear and devour her.

Donutaversary: 3 Years of Miss Donut

On September 1, 2022, Ms. Kriofsky visited the Golden Valley Animal Humane Society with the intention of meeting a sad-looking young woman named Donut. Little did either of them know that this meeting would change the course of both their lives. A few hours after meeting and with precious little face-time under her belt, Ms. Kriofsky scooped the Miss Donut into her vehicle, stopped at a PetSmart for a bag of dinner, and drove the Miss Donut to what would become the Bonk House.

Before Miss Donut’s arrival in Ms. Kriofsky’s life, by and large, there was no Bonk House. There was simply the house where bonk lived. She had recently moved into her first apartment that was solely hers; no roommates, just 100% bonk. This proved to be far too much bonk for the space, which prompted Ms. Kriofsky to begin her search for a fat little puppy to adopt.

A number of potential adoptees came before Miss Donut, but none felt quite right. Ms. Kriofsky saw Donut for the first time on the Animal Humane Society website, and something about her sad puppy eyes and exceedingly generic bio drew her in. She began to check on Donut’s profile multiple times a day, and by the end of the week, she had resolved to go meet the Miss Donut.

Ms. Kriofsky stepped timidly into the Animal Humane Society and made her way back to the kennels. She quickly found Donut, who was presumably scared out of her mind. Donut would not accept the treats offered to her, and she did not bark amidst the cacophony of dogs around her desperate to be noticed. The two then shared some brief one-on-one time in a separate room, where Miss Donut was reticent to even sniff Ms. Kriofsky, much less play with a toy or allow any sort of pets or affection. Miss Donut’s nervousness resonated with Ms. Kriofsky, and the two left together shortly thereafter.

Now, three years have passed, and Miss Donut has become a steadfast, if occasionally inconsiderate, companion. She turned the house where bonk lived into the Bonk House.

A Horoscope for Your Wednesday

This week’s horoscopes are sponsored by Animal Crossing.

Aries: You don’t know what you don’t know until you do. Y’know?

Taurus: If you show up at the water balloon fight with a sponge, you’re going to get soaked. And that’s A-OK!

Gemini: You don’t want to miss the good ol’ days too much, or you might miss out on the good new days.

Cancer: People ask what’s the difference between morals and ethics. Only five out of six letters.

Leo: “Happy as a clam” isn’t about HOW happy you are. It’s about being the KIND of happy that clams are.

Virgo: If you love someone, send ’em a mixtape, and then think about it for 15 years. Works every time.

Libra: Stop and smell the roses they say. But do roses like being smelled? Thorns, man. Take a hint.

Scorpio: Maybe we should put the cart before the horse sometimes. I bet horses like to mix things up once in a while.

Sagittarius: If molecules are made of atoms, and atoms are made of even smaller things…like, how deep does this go?

Capricorn: A child’s laugh… and a horn section with a sax in front. That’s it. That’s the orchestra pit of the universe.

Aquarius: Dust is life tucking you in very slowly. If we could stop tossing and turning, think how cozy we’d be.

Pisces: They say you need to get your head in the game, but seems to me that’s leaving a lot of limbs on the bench.