Posted on May 18, 2025

Wet Dust Now a Thing in Chicago

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Chicago, IL — In a plot twist straight out of a weather-themed sitcom, Chicago got hit with a dust storm during a rainstorm Friday—because apparently the laws of physics took the day off. While residents were dodging trash cans flying at 60 mph and wiping rain off their windshields, the National Weather Service calmly issued a Dust Storm Warning, like that made any kind of sense.

“It was raining, the ground was soaked, and somehow there was still dust?” said one confused local. “I’ve seen cleaner logic on daytime court shows.”

Locals took to social media to ask the obvious question: How can there be dust when everything's wet—unless it’s not dust at all?

According to the National Weather Service, high winds kicked up dry topsoil from surrounding farmlands and “lofted it into the atmosphere.” Which sounds super scientific—until you remember it had been raining all day, turning most farmland into soup. But sure, let’s pretend the dust politely waited for a break in the downpour before taking flight like a magic carpet of grit.

“Either the dirt’s got a better umbrella than I do,” said one commuter, “or someone’s full of it.”

The agency also noted that visibility dropped to near zero in some areas, which was true—but most people chalked that up to disbelief, not dust.

While meteorologists tried to keep a straight face, locals had their own ideas.

“This wasn’t dust,” insisted Gary from Cicero, standing next to his pickup covered in what he called “government sprinkles.” “It smelled weird. Tasted weird too. Don’t ask why I know that.”

Another resident, Brenda L., posted a blurry Facebook Live rant from her porch: “First it was chemtrails, now it’s wet dust? What’s next—fog made of fluoride?”

Some folks claimed the so-called “dust” made their allergies act up, their phones glitch, and in one case, caused a neighbor’s cat to start walking in circles and speaking in tongues. “It might’ve just been hairballs,” she admitted. “But the timing was suspicious.”

Others suggested it was part of a covert government experiment—possibly testing powdered compliance, brain fog boosters, or a new 5G seasoning blend.

By Saturday morning, the damage report read like a checklist from a low-budget apocalypse movie. Power outages hit parts of the region, flights were delayed due to “atmospheric particulates,” and at least three school districts cited “weather confusion” as the reason for early closures.

“They didn’t cancel school when the roof blew off the gym last year,” said a parent. “But this time? One gust of muddy wind and everybody panics. Must be that new airborne dirt with feelings.”

Local authorities maintained it was all normal. “Dust storms can happen in various conditions,” said one city official, trying very hard not to blink too much. “This was just a rare combination of wind velocity and soil conditions.”

Residents weren’t buying it. “Look, I’ve seen my neighbor hose his driveway for 30 minutes and not kick up that much dust,” said Arnold, who described the event as “gritty nonsense with a 40% chance of bullshit.”

Others reported weird behavior from electronics during the storm. A handful of smart speakers reportedly activated on their own, asking users if they “accept the terms.” One woman swears her Ring doorbell started playing elevator music as the wind picked up.

“I think Alexa joined the deep state,” she said. “I’m not saying it’s related, but I’m also not, not saying it.”

Meanwhile, several TikTok users in the area claimed the “dust” made them temporarily forget what they were doing mid-video. One influencer paused a dance tutorial, stared into the camera, and muttered, “Wait… what year is it?” before walking off-screen. That clip has since racked up over 400,000 views and several comments blaming “airborne amnesia.”

Across town, a Dollar General was evacuated after the automatic air freshener went off and someone shouted, “It’s happening again!” Reports confirmed no injuries—just an overstimulated manager and a very confused guy holding three bags of Funyuns.

By Sunday, cleanup crews were out washing sidewalks, power-washing windows, and politely pretending they hadn’t just spent the weekend battling invisible rain-dust. Meanwhile, city officials were still dodging questions about what exactly fell from the sky and whether it had ever existed in a solid state.

A spokesperson for the Department of Public Safety issued a statement that was both vague and deeply unsettling: “We are aware of the unusual particulate event and are working with regional partners to assess its origin. At this time, there is no indication of widespread harm, though we advise residents to avoid licking their vehicles.”

That last part raised more questions than answers.

Now, everything had returned to “normal” in the way only Chicago can define it. The news moved on. The warnings disappeared. And somewhere, buried deep in a government cloud server, was probably a document titled: Operation: Dust Curtain.

But the locals won’t forget.

Or… maybe they already have. Depends on how much of that mystery dust they inhaled. Some say their memories are a little fuzzy. Others report forgetting why they walked into rooms, mid-sentence brain farts, or suddenly craving Pop-Tarts they haven’t eaten since 1997. One man even claimed he woke up convinced he was back in his high school marching band—until his wife reminded him he’d never played an instrument.

Experts say it’s probably unrelated.

But the timing? Suspicious.

Dr. Len Watley, who claims to hold a PhD in “Atmospheric Disruption Studies” from a university that may or may not exist, offered his professional insight: “What we witnessed in Chicago was a classic case of damp particulate displacement accelerated by bureaucratic hot air. Happens all the time in nature. Especially during election years.”

When asked if residents should be concerned, Dr. Watley paused, adjusted his Bluetooth headset, and replied, “Only if it starts raining glitter.”

So for now, Chicagoans are left with hazy skies, hazier answers, and the unsettling possibility that next time, the dust might come with a survey.

In the end, no one really knows what blew through Chicago that night—just that it wasn’t normal, wasn’t dry, and definitely wasn’t dust in the traditional sense. But like potholes and property taxes, the city took it in stride. Because in Chicago, when the sky spits mud and the forecast says “partly dusty with a chance of confusion,” you just shake your head, wipe off your windshield, and keep driving.