Straight Edge Man Attends Show on High Horse

SILVER SPRING, Md. — Attendees of an all-ages hardcore show last night were treated to the arrival of local straight edge punk Brett Williams, riding on his own high horse.

“Brett and his band Army of Edge both suck,” said Matt Moyer, one punk outside the venue. “All his songs are so judgmental — he’s probably talking shit on me right now for smoking outside during their set. I bet he’s up on stage, going off about my lifted truck and the fact that I litter sometimes when I know nobody is watching.”

Witnesses were initially welcoming to the horse, whose impressive height kept many of Williams’s condescending comments out of earshot. The horse, however, proved problematic, leaving many of Williams’s friends struggling to defend his actions.

“Brett’s a solid dude, and he super means well with this whole horse thing… but I don’t know,” said longtime friend Jamie Patrick. “The horse is shitting all over the venue like it owns the place, and I swear, the horse is making eye contact with people when he does it, like some sort of power move. Plus, the horse keeps going off in the pit — it’s either because he likes the music, or he’s terrified, but there’s only so many holes in the wall we can explain before we lose this space for shows.”

Making matters worse, the horse’s impressive size and height obstructed attendees’ views of the stage, further isolating Williams from his local scene.

“It’s not my fault these people can’t see that riding high horses is the truest form of being punk,” said Williams. “This stallion doesn’t contribute to global warming — not to mention, I don’t pay taxes to own him, so I’m not contributing to systematic racism, the military industrial complex, the prison industrial complex, or the medical industrial complex like all you fools who drive cars, buy gas or take public transportation.”

At press time, Williams was being rushed to the hospital after his horse threw him face first into his own merch table.

Couple Who Will Fight and Ignore You All Night Insists You Won’t Feel Like Third Wheel

PHILADELPHIA — Your friends Amber Lakely and Kevin Vasquez promised you today that you wouldn’t feel like a third wheel if you join their weekly date night, during which they fully plan on fighting the entire time.

“You have to come out with us,” said Lakely, who will drunkenly confront her boyfriend about his recent texts with his female co-worker like you’re not even there. “Drinks are on us since we accidentally left you at a gas station the last time we hung out. But don’t worry, this time will be so much more fun — me and Kevin are in a great place now, ever since he agreed to quit his band and get a job working with my father.”

Local waiter Logan Miller, who served you and the couple moments ago, took enormous amounts of pity on you as the entire restaurant silently judged the passive-aggressive spectacle.

“[You’ve] been pretending to scroll on [your] phone while that couple screams like a pair of maniacs. Last time I walked by, they were fighting because he finished the latest season of ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’ without his partner,” said Miller. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move, but I don’t think it warrants this much yelling — they haven’t even noticed their friend took four 10-minute bathroom breaks in the past hour.”

Making the night even more uncomfortable, as the night progressed, the couple’s tone shifted to incessant pet names and an excruciatingly awkward amount of physical attention.

“I’ve never seen a couple with such a quick turnaround,” said witness Georgia Kelvy from a nearby table. “One second, they’re yelling at each other about not sharing the same hobbies, and the next they’re the king and queen of PDA.”

“Oh, God… did I just hear them use baby talk?!” she added, while you tried to cover your eyes as they made out on the table. “What a shit show.”

At press time, the couple asked you to split the bill evenly, even though you only ordered water. When reached for comment, they were convinced you had a “blast” and look forward to fighting about their deflating sex life in front of you during tapas next Tuesday.

Opinion: I’m Anti-Vaping Because No One Should Have to Bury Their Own Beer Pong Partner

It’s every beer pong player’s worst nightmare. Worse than getting shut out. Worse than playing with Milwaukee’s Best. Even worse… than losing to a chick. We must stop vaping NOW because no bro should live long enough to bury his own beer pong partner.

Yesterday, I laid to rest the body of Bart “the Fart” Dansby after his vape pen straight up torched his lungs. Or gave him cancer. I dunno, I was in the other room asking a girl about her major. If you’re drinking a 40 right now, pour some out. And if you’re not drinking a 40, go get one, bitch. Nut check!

Bart loved 40s. In fact, the first responders said it didn’t help matters that when he tried to call 911 he actually had two of them duct taped to his hands. But Bart didn’t die from drinking 40s. That’s not even possible.

He also didn’t die from weed, stepped-on cocaine, strippers, Taco Bell, or WWE Network, which are just a few of the other things he loved. My bro got straight up no-scoped by vaping and this epidemic ends now.

Like those guys we don’t let into our frat say, “Never again.”

Some of our friends started using vapes a while back. You know, cuz it’s cool. Like a cigarette from the future. Not too long after, Bart made the switch to vaping. Well, “switch” isn’t really the right word. He still smoked regular cigarettes, too. He also had one of those bad ass gas mask bongs. Bart was a sick dude and his death came as a complete shock.

After all, he wasn’t just my beer pong partner. He was my friend, my roommate, and part of my crew. We got a place together off-campus and we rack the BP tables every night. It’s just like Animal House and no dean is gonna shut us down no matter how many passed out underage girls we drop off in shopping carts at their rich parents house! But unlike Animal House, our Bluto died.

Apparently, people have been talking about the potential dangers of vaping for a while now. It was in all the papers but me and my boys didn’t know! We have a saying here at the house: If it isn’t in Maxim magazine, it’s fake news.

Vaping now joins the list of other fucked up shit that I’m “anti” after it cost me the life of a beloved beer pong partner: Four Loko, axe-throwing bars, and air drumming on the steering wheel so hard to Godsmack that you drive directly into an eighteen-wheeler.

We miss you, Bart. The Fight Club poster in the living room hangs at half-mast in your honor.

Local Band Banned Locally

COSTA MESA, Calif. — Local indie band TunnelFuzz are facing criminal charges today, and are officially banned from all Orange County venues after allegedly dosing an entire audience at the CatCat Lounge with LSD during an album release show for their debut record “Smells Like Sounds.”

“Our music is a fully immersive adventure every fan deserves to experience — and all that’s required is our homemade kombucha laced with a shit ton of psychedelics,” said lead singer Brandon Northwood. “And just to be clear, no, we didn’t tell anyone the kombucha was laced, and yes, a couple kids developed crippling anxiety which will probably last until the day they die… but that’s a small price to pay to experience a full ego death and reincarnation during a 45-minute set.”

“Using that leaf blower that I modified into a flame thrower was probably a bad idea, though, now that I think about it,” added Northwood. “A lot of people freaked out.”

Venue management confirmed the band’s antics and subsequent punishment.

“I was really trying to avoid the showroom that night: TunnelFuzz is god-awful, and their hippie fan base smells like if thrift stores had assholes,” said CatCat manager Jacob Sherratt. “I get a concerning call on the walkie, and I come out to a room where half the kids were in sheer panic, and the other half in full ‘Lord of the Flies’ attack mode. It took nearly three hours to find every last kid hiding in the rafters, and an additional hour to get them to stop climbing the trees out in the parking lot.”

One unlucky concert goer gave her account.

“Last time I saw TunnelFuzz, I couldn’t see straight for a week… and not from some drug induced haze, but because the band’s out-of-tune catastrophes they call songs gave me cluster headaches,” said victim Katie Jaynes. “I go to the bathroom, and my friend hands me a cup of the band’s ‘kombucha,’ and before I know it, I’m neck-deep in every childhood fear I’ve ever had. A sense of dread crept so far into me, I started writing goodbye letters to friends and family in my phone. But I also realized I’m gay, so there’s that.”

TunnelFuzz is appealing all charges and attempting to reconnect with fans by sending homemade baked goods to everyone affected.

Man in Final Stage of Turning Into Bug Makes One Last Journal Entry

CAPITOL CITY — Entomologist Steve Gilchrist, an employee of the Hillcliff Corporation, recently made what he assumed to be his final passage in a journal he’s meticulously maintained all throughout his gradual transformation in a giant bug-like creature.

“This will probably be my final entry,” read the scrawled writing in the notebook kept in his office. “Feeling under the weather. Been eating flies. Growing wings. Not really sure what’s happening to me. As I’ve outlined in the previous entries in this journal, my research in this lab holds the key to stopping all of this madness from spreading. If someone were to discover the antidote, well, then it might not be too late.”

The scientist, who had been handpicked by his employer to participate in a study on the long term effects of prolonged radiation on bugs, started to feel increasingly strange partway into his six week study, leading him to suspect he’d been the subject all along. 

“These scientists, they’re all the same,” laughed Montgomery Hillcliff, a mysterious millionaire with a robotic eye, while hanging off of the landing part of a helicopter. “Leave them in a room with nothing but a notebook and a deteriorating condition, and they will scrupulously document every phase of the weird shit that they’re going through. It never fails!” 

Conrad Gunn, the smooth talking gunslinger that many claim is humanity’s last hope, has said he finds these journals and documents left behind by sick and mutated humans to be an incredible help throughout the course of his adventures. 

“Look, when you’ve been to enough diferent settings while still just doing variations on the same shit as many times as I have, you apreciate the little notes and stuff people leave you to tell you what the fuck you’re doing this time,” he said. “I guess this time Hillcliff is turning men into bugs? Not on my watch!” 

At this point, Gunn engaged Hillcliff’s helicopter in combat, neglecting to read the full journal left behind by the late Doctor Gilchrist. Sources have confirmed that Gunn was still able to figure out what he was supposed to be doing.

Check out the newest episode of the Hard Drive podcast where we watch and discuss every episode of 1989’s The Super Mario Bros. Super Show!

Christian Rock Groupie Waiting Until Marriage to Go Backstage

WATERLOO, Iowa — Christian rock superfan Keri Wilson has resolved not to go backstage after any concerts until she is a married woman, despite frequent invitations to break her vow, according to sources.

“I’ve been coming to Raise City concerts since I was in high school, and I’ll love and support that band always… but going backstage is where I draw the line,” Wilson explained. “I know what kind of stuff happens back there, and I only think it’s appropriate within the loving confine of a committed marriage.”

While adamantly against participating in after-show festivities, some of Wilson’s friends fail to see the harm in this common band-following ritual.

“I don’t know what Keri thinks happens back there,” said friend and fellow Raise City fan Jenna Halverson. “We usually play board games, and sometimes there’s beer, but it’s not like there’s a big sex orgy going on. Besides, Keri does plenty of other stuff that’s way dirtier — like that time after junior prom, when the dress her mom didn’t have time to finish hemming got ‘finished on’ anyway, if you know what I mean, thanks to Justin Demborowski. Everyone knows what’s up.”

Despite claims that Wilson’s boundaries “are fine, but don’t really make much sense,” Wilson stands by her decision to honor chastity by only doing stuff involving the butt, mouth, hands, over the clothes, and “when I’m on vacation.”

“Peeing in Rick [Triano’s] mouth in the back of a van outside a show in Cedar Rapids last summer does not count as sex, and that’s a medical fact,” Wilson insisted. “And if Jenna’s still talking crap about that time at the Des Moines Civic Center, nothing happened in that coat room with the bass player from Beat-ification besides a Rusty Trombone to get him going… and a little Disappearing Panda with the singer of Blezzed Game. And none of that stuff was backstage, so it’s all good.”

At press time, Wilson clarified she would not allow vaginal penetration behind the stage of any show, and that her boyfriend will have to settle for sticking it up her ass in other locations.

Childhood Sock Puppet About To See Some Shit

YONKERS, N.Y. — Local man Patrick Murphy’s childhood sock puppet is in for an experience never imagined possible later today after the 28-year-old stumbled upon it while going through boxes during a holiday trip home, according to sources.

“I’m just happy to be out of that box,” said sock puppet Tubey, totally unaware that four or five hot ropes of 20-something splooge would be seeping into his stitches in a matter of minutes. “Pat and I were such good pals when he was a kid, and we had so much fun together… I can’t tell you how many sick days I got him through. I’m excited for us to make some new memories.”

“I’m not really sure why he closed the blinds, or propped a chair under the doorknob like that, but I guess puppet shows have come a long way,” Tubey added. “We’ll probably get into some avant garde storytelling or something.”

Murphy rediscovered the old toy in his childhood bedroom, which he entered with the intention of cleaning before becoming immediately distracted.

“My mom asked me to go to my old room and finally get rid of some junk, and honestly, it was time. I think that, at some point, it’s worth taking a breath to think about what you consider really important in life,” said Murphy, his eyes darting towards the SuicideGirls poster and volumes of Monster Musume that currently top the “Keep” pile. “It’s that emotional significance. I was thinking I’d get rid of this old sock puppet I made in second grade, but you know what? It might look like garbage, but I had some good times with Tubey. Who’s to say those are behind me?”

Murphy’s mother, while delighted her son finally cleaning his room 10 years after moving out, is keeping her distance “just in case.”

“I’ve been using Pat’s old room as an office. I’m so excited to work on my projects without having all of this Green Day and Naruto junk stare me down,“ said his mother, Karen Murphy. “But when I went up to ask him what he wanted for lunch, the door was shut, so I figured I’d just leave it be. I opened that door once without knocking in 2003, and I haven’t made that mistake again.”

At press time, Tubey, who quickly realized what he was in for, was silently grateful that at least he would get out of this without being stretched out in the slightest.

Opinion: Some of These Elves Should Be Black, but Not Too Many, Actually, Wait

Ol’ St. Nicholas is right around the corner, coming to spread his good cheer across the planet. In his workshop every year, hundreds of elves work ‘round the clock building toys for the children of Earth. But take a closer look and what do you see? Not a single elf of color (EOC). All of Santa’s unpaid, uninsured, nonstop, and demeaning labor is completed by a team of exclusively white elves, and that’s, uhm, terrible. I think.

It’s no secret that Santa Claus has been able to avoid all kinds of labor laws. By building his workshop in international territory, he hasn’t once had to pay taxes or inspect for safety. It comes as no surprise that Father Christmas refuses to follow affirmative action policies.

Photographs from inside of his workshop show an all-white workforce, laughing and singing and toiling away for hours without sunlight. An equal opportunity employer would be concerned with making sure his humiliated slave labor came from all walks of life, no matter what color your skin is.

Wait.. are elves slaves? OK, uh, maybe. Well, I guess what I’m saying is everyone has a right to be a slave at the North Pole. Wait, no, that can’t be right. What’s my take? OK hang on, just let me figure this out…

What I mean is, nobody should have to be a slave but if we can agree that there are going to be slaves then we have to make sure that they are fairly represented through all kinds of people. We need to make sure we fight the injustices that we can in the world, and sometimes that means Santa needs black elves. And other kinds, too, of course, like, Chinese elves, or Samoan elves, or like an elf who is blind, or something. Like, they’re ALREADY slaves, why do you need all of them to look a certain way? There shouldn’t be any discrimination with this sorta thing, is all I’m saying.

And they don’t have to all be doing the same elf stuff, either! Maybe the Korean slaves can be writing pop music and the Irish slaves get to drink on the job and the Mexican okay my editor is telling me he’s on the phone with the Hard Times lawyer and he’s making a neck slitting motion.

So in conclusion: we need to come together and make sure Santa Clause knows that we are basically okay with slavery as long as it’s whimsical, but there needs to be more different kinds of slaves? I guess it doesn’t really sound good when I say it like that.

You know what, forget the whole thing. Merry Christmas everyone!

Lying Frontman Can Clearly Hear Motherfuckers in Back

PORTLAND, Maine — Metalcore frontman and obvious liar Zander Dekay claimed at a show last Friday that he “can’t hear the motherfuckers in the back” of the venue despite their wild shouts, hoarse and angry fans confirmed.

“I feel like this guy is jacking my fucking chain — we in the back are just as loud as the people up front,” said long-time fan Rendolyn Fae shortly after Dekay’s band Sunrise Never left the stage. “This venue really isn’t that big. I know he had to have heard us, too, because when we started screaming, the guitar player gave us the devil horns. So he fucking heard us. I feel like I’m being gaslighted here.”

The controversy has spread to social media, with #YouCanHearUs trending over the weekend — prompting Dekay to release a statement on his Instagram.

”I care about my fans. But when I ask if they’re ‘ready to rock,’ or if they’d like to ‘hear one off our first album,’ I need more than just a round of applause or a lousy ‘woo.’ I’m up on that stage baring my soul for you people — the least you could do is a high-pitched scream,” said Dekay. “I really think the people attending our show on Friday need to take a hard look in the mirror and realize that maybe you weren’t as loud as you think you were.”

Experts, including Duke University physicist Allegra McGregor, who has dedicated her career to studying frontmen, believe Dekay is clearly to blame.

“The data shows that when a frontman asks the audience if they’re ‘feeling good tonight,’ he hears them loud and clear,” said McGregor. “We have dedicated countless man-hours logging the acoustic properties of mid-level venues across the country, and it’s quite easy to hear people in the back. Our only guess is that maybe Mr. Dekay was trying to boost his own ego by demanding the audience follow his orders, but that is something we have yet to study.”

To make peace with their fans, Sunrise Never is using the popular quiz app Kahoot!, where concertgoers can vote “yes” or “no” in real time on whether they are “ready to rock,” completely eliminating the need to scream during shows.

Punk on “Chopped” Knows Exactly What Entree to Make With Mars Bar, Leftover Mac n’ Cheese, Warm PBR

LOS ANGELES — Sacramento-based punk and local chef Tina “Snot” McLain won the dinner round of the hit cooking show “Chopped” last night with a casserole made from a chocolate bar, leftover pasta, and a room-temperature can of cheap beer.

“I made this every weekend back when I lived at The Shithouse,” said McLain of her winning dish. “Bands would play in our basement and I’d make it for them after the gig. We lived across the road from an Italian restaurant, so there was always tons of macaroni in their dumpster. And raccoons.”

“I hope I can pull it off in the dessert round. As it stands, I might have to move back into The Shithouse, but with a win I could move into a place that hasn’t been condemned by the city,” McLain added. “A place with actual curtains, and a toilet that flushes most of the time.”

While McLain was well within her wheelhouse with her secret basket ingredients, other contestants ranged from confused to disgusted.

“I’d seen some weird ingredients on ‘Chopped’ before, but nothing like this,” said fellow contestant Connie Rodgers, a Michelin Star chef from Denver. “I was prepared for something weird like frog legs… but a single, warm beer? Mine had a cigarette butt in it. I was still able to whip up a decent pasta fagioli, thanks to the weird onion smell on this cutoff denim jacket I found on one of the seats, but it wasn’t enough to win the round.”

For her part, “Chopped” judge Alex Guarnaschelli was particularly impressed by the dish.

“Using the Mars Bar to make a chocolate molé sauce was ingenious. And don’t get me started on that exquisite PBR glaze,” said Guarnaschelli. “She kept the comfort-food charm of the mac n’ cheese but mixed it with these left-field flairs. I was incredibly impressed with Chef McLain. I just wish she’d stop drinking the cooking wine.”

At press time, all three “Chopped” judges from the episode were hospitalized with food poisoning, and McLain will be stripped of her winnings as soon as someone can locate her.

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