Fasten your seatbelts for a wild ride through the quirkier side of 2025, Cincinnati! From moments straight out of the writers room for Veep to a new trash truck with an unfortunately phallic name, this year’s bizarre headlines make the depressing ones go down a little smoother. These are the weirdest tales that had Cincinnatians shaking their heads in disbelief in 2025.
It felt like a moment straight out of the writers room for HBO’s Veep. Pope Francis, the 266th leader of the Roman Catholic Church, died at 88 — just less than 24 hours after a private Easter Sunday meeting with U.S. Vice President JD Vance — a coincidence that quickly became fodder for internet jokes and late‑night comics. His passing from a stroke on Easter Monday capped a 12‑year papacy defined by compassion for the marginalized and occasional policy tugs‑of‑war with conservative U.S. politicians over issues like immigration. In Cincinnati, local church leaders mourned Francis as a “good and faithful servant,” even as memes and TV hosts gleefully speculated about the awkward timing of the Vance encounter. Vance himself called it “pretty crazy” that the pope passed so soon after their meeting, while also expressing genuine respect and recalling a memorable early pandemic homily. The story underscored how a global religious heavyweight’s final moments could collide with the surreal, absurd rhythms of modern American political culture.
In May, Cincinnati’s U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers gave a federal smackdown to what might be the nation’s most niche contraband: leather cockspur covers and cockfighting knife sheaths hidden in a package from Mexico bound for a Texas residence. While CBP usually snags black market Botox or fake sports gear, this shipment full of tools designed for rooster blood sport earned an eyebrow‑raising moment in local border enforcement lore. Those spurs and sheaths are illegal under the Animal Welfare Act and other federal laws because they’re used to make already violent cockfights even more lethal. CBP officials pointed out that smugglers sometimes label contraband as “articles for birds” in the manifest — which, in this case, was literally true but wildly misleading.
Pro tip: If you want to survive a zombie apocalypse, a study released in July suggests that hiding out at Great American Ball Park could strengthen your chances of survival. Inspired by 28 Years Later, a post-apocalyptic horror film and sequel to the 2002 film 28 Days Later that was currently in theaters, sports betting brand FlashPicks wanted to see which Major League Baseball stadiums were equipped best to handle a zombie apocalypse. Using eight survival-related factors, FlashPicks analyzed all 30 of MLB’s stadiums and found GABP was the third-best stadium for living through a zombie apocalypse with a 65.5% survival rate — we’ll take it. FlashPicks says we are located in an area with the fourth-lowest population of all the MLB parks, with a little over 309,000 people living in the city of Cincinnati, although we’re sure we’re going to have to contend with the nearly 2.57 million people in the metropolitan area. But this lower population means less likelihood of a huge zombie swarm. GABP is also the third-closest stadium to a natural water source — only 0.05 miles away from the Ohio River. We would also be able to grow crops on the pitch, thanks to the Kentucky Bluegrass and Perennial Ryegrass playing field.
Earlier this year, Arnold’s Bar and Grill gave one lucky person a chance to own a unique piece of Cincinnati parade history. In August, Arnold’s offered its famous motorized bathtub float, often seen in the annual Cincinnati Reds Opening Day and Bockfest parades or just parked outside the restaurant, free to a good home. The bathtub has long been a symbol of Arnold’s, which opened in the 1850s and is also Cincinnati’s oldest continuously operating bar. During Prohibition, Arnold’s converted from a bar to a cafe to remain open, but local legend has it that a bathtub was left on the second floor of the restaurant to be used to make gin. The bathtub did eventually find its new home, where we hope it lives on for more strange and delightful traditions.
In November, the city of Cincinnati unveiled its newest creative project — and definitely turned some…heads. The Pink Packer, a hot pink trash truck with the Cincinnati skyline printed on its side, designed by Greater Cincinnati Water Works graphic designer Christina Lipps and GCWW administration specialist Casara Anthony, is now collecting trash in Greater Cincinnati. While many Facebook users were both enthusiastic and perplexed (“Crime, potholes, but we got ourselves a pink garbage truck. You can’t make this stuff up,” one user commented) about the newest addition to the trash truck fleet, others were quick to notice the interesting name the city gave to a truck designed to carry large loads…of trash. “Instantly thought of breast cancer awareness then my mind went in the gutter,” a user commented. “Did you even ask just one 12 year old boy,” asked another. “I feel like this could have been avoided.” Others saw the trash truck as the city’s newest trans icon. “#transrights,” one user commented. “The Pink Packer is my drag name,” commented another. At the very least, the Pink Packer ensures Cincinnati’s trash service is now decidedly well-equipped.
This story is featured in CityBeat’s Dec. 24 print edition.
This article appears in Dec. 24-Jan. 6…