Embarrassed Nation Double-Books Mass Shooting
DAYTON, Ohio — The United States of America was embarrassed to admit it accidentally double-booked two mass shootings within 24 hours of each other, sources close to the situation confirmed.
“Yeah I really stepped in it here,” said the the 243-year-old nation. “Usually we try to spread these things out by like a month so it gives everyone time to make excuses for why shootings keep happening. I must have gotten my dates mixed up and didn’t realize I had two radicalized domestic terrorists booked in the same time slot.”
The shootings in El Paso, Texas and Dayton, Ohio mark the 250th and 251st incidents of gun violence in 2019, but fans of the North American country were quick to defend its booking practices.
“Obviously, my thoughts and prayers go out to everyone affected. Hell, I got thoughts and prayers coming out my ass for all these people ok? But if you don’t like living in constant fear of random attacks by psychopathic little twerps that spend too much time on the Internet, then you can go to literally any other country in the world to be safe, snowflake,” said NRA CEO Wayne LaPierre. “But I can’t stress enough that if more people just wore body armor and carried weapons on their person each time they enter a public facility then these shooters could be stopped sooner.”
“Unless of course they are also wearing body armor, then I don’t really know what to do,” added LaPierre.
Due to the current backlash, the United States plans to delay announcing the lineup and locations for “Shooter Fest,” a three-day gun rampage expected to take place across the country without any intervention by the government.
Punk Totally Doesn’t Give a Fuck But Prefers Guests Use Coasters, Also Fuck Cops
BALTIMORE — Local anarcho-punk Tommy Mauro “totally doesn’t give a fuck,” but does prefer guests use coasters, even if it’s “no big deal, and also, fuck cops,” annoyed partygoers confirmed.
“I strongly believe destruction of property is an acceptable and appropriate method of achieving social change. But I also believe in dusting the top of the broken fridge we use as a bookcase, even if no one can see up there,” explained Mauro. “And just because I prefer the superior cleaning power of Clorox over a handmade lemon juice and vinegar solution, doesn’t mean I’ve been co-opted.”
Mauro and roommate Sofia Alvarez were hosting a party when his anal-retentive tendencies became particularly obtrustive.
“We were discussing politics or something, and Tommy kept interjecting with his ‘totally no biggie’ suggestions,” admitted Alvarez. “He’d say things like, ‘I agree, drugs are an instrument of oppression. Also, we should use coasters because the table is real mahogany.’ Prefering to keep a tidy home is one thing, but why is he so worried about things like mustard stains on a futon he helped me pull out of a dumpster?”
The party was later broken up by local law enforcement, which, according to guest George Varnava, further exacerbated Mauro.
“They barged in without a warrant and searched the house for drugs or whatever. So, understandably, Tommy was pissed,” said Varnava. “Not because his rights were violated, but because the cops refused to take off their boots or use the runner as they raided the place.”
One of the police officers, Tanisha Watkins, was surprised by Mauro’s unique and seemingly un-punk ways.
“Oh, yeah — I remember that asshole. After he yelled at us for leaving the door open, he pointed out that my badge looked dull and kept asking if I wanted him to get some white vinegar so I could polish it,” said Watkins. “Honestly, I would have rather he spit on me or call me a pig like all the other punks do.”
At press time, Mauro had angered his roommate by scrubbing the bloodstains out of her shirts, thus ruining them.
Couple Making Out at Barcade Rudely Blocking Ms. Pac-Man Cabinet
BROOKLYN, N.Y. — Unrest erupted at the Barcade in Williamsburg after a couple began making out in front of the establishment’s sole Ms. Pac-Man cabinet, effectively blocking other patrons from playing the game.
The incident began around 9 p.m. with the culprits playing the game for roughly thirty seconds before aggressively starting to smooch. Soon, a line of impatient arcade enthusiasts eagerly awaiting a turn began to form behind them, eventually snaking entirely around the bar in a maze-like pattern.
“It’s just plain disrespectful,” fumed one regular player waiting in line. “Where’s the arcade etiquette? Like, okay, you’re dating. No one cares. Stop showing off. Some of us have important high scores to set tonight!”
The situation only got worse as the night progressed. With no end to the make-out session in sight, several frustrated gamers were seen giving up entirely and forcing themselves to play games like BurgerTime instead.
Despite players’ outrage, the establishment itself has benefited from the ordeal. While waiting for the machine to free up, many players decided to kill time by actually ordering drinks from the bar.
“This is the most money I’ve made in one night since I started working here,” the bartender excitedly explained. “Everyone keeps tipping in quarters though, so I have no idea how I’m going to get this giant sack of change home tonight.”
Fed up with the long wait time, one desperate patron decided to force his way in-between the couple to finally reach the cabinet’s controls, accidentally roping himself into a three-way make-out session that proceeded to partially block the Tapper cabinet as well.
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!
Roadie Traded For New Tire
BOISE, Idaho — Touring band Star Monkey traded one of their roadies last night to fellow touring band Tree Destroyer, exchanging him for a new van tire after discovering one of their tires was flat following their set.
“Luckily, we have a bartering system in place with many bands on the road,” noted Star Monkey vocalist Jackie Woodhouse. “We didn’t want to see the roadie go — he’s strong and doesn’t require much food. But sometimes, you just gotta make those hard choices. You try to cross the river with too much weight and the whole thing can just fall right to shit real quick.”
Tree Destroyer’s manager admitted he had to seize the opportunity to improve his band in the short term.
“Winter was hard on us this tour,” remarked manager Otis McDaniels. “We lost our roadie to consumption a couple months back in the snowy plains of Nebraska, and the workload has been a real burden on us all since then. I wish I had [the new roadie] when we were loading in the gear — I was on bass drum duty today. That thing is heavy as fuck.”
The new roadie, Chuck “Roadie II” Nash, was seen holding his post beside the bar during Tree Destroyer’s set.
“Tree Destroyer ain’t so bad once you get to know ‘em,” claimed Nash. “Yessir, I’ve been involved in more than a few trades over my years as a roadie. I try not to take it personally; I just count my lucky stars that I have a roof over my head, a shirt on my back, and food in my belly most times. So all in all, it’s pretty great… so long as I don’t get shipped out with some dipshit banker.”
Star Monkey bassist Reggie Waldron looked back fondly on his time with the old roadie.
“A few weeks back, we were playing somewhere in Wyoming,” said Waldron, “and the roadie was guarding the van after our set, when out of the darkness he was attacked by a gang of junkies trying to steal our gear. He fended them off with nothing but a drumstick and a hi-hat stand. A real hard ass, that one. Good luck to him. I wish I remembered his name.”
Following the show, Star Monkey set to work to change the van’s tire, but quickly remembered that the roadie was the only one who could make the fix.
This Music Festival Just Released the Lineup of Drugs You’ll Be Taking
Although Coachella and Paradiso have come and gone, existing now only as a vape cloud of fragmented memories in our Instagram feed, there’s still a slice of summer left to spend fucked out of your gourd on drugs.
Last night, Sparkle Church, Eastern Oregon’s premiere music festival, released the full lineup of uppers, downers, hallucinogens, and designer narcotics for its three-day stint in late August.
I. Am. Living. For. It.
I’m most excited about LSD’s headlining spot at the mainstage on Saturday, especially since there were rumors of cancellation after drama over placement. Apparently, Shrooms and Molly were also vying for the Saturday spot but a compromise was made at the last minute to move Shrooms to Friday and have Molly go on part way through LSD’s set, shortly after peaking.
Honestly, that sounds like the right call, since LSD always changes up its style and can get a little weird if you catch it on an off night. It’d be a huge risk to open the festival with a bad trip. Sure, Xanax and Oxy are doing low-key sets back at the campground in case LSD gets a little too intense, but they come through my hometown all the time, so I’m not too worried about missing them at Sparkle Church.
That leaves most of Friday and Saturday for the niche, designer drugs at the smaller stages. I’m particularly interested in checking out N-bomb, since it’s supposed to be a shorter but more intense variant of LSD’s style. I also might pop in to DMT for 15 minutes or so.
Some of the older members in our crew are really looking forward to Quaaludes’ final appearance on Sunday, so I might check that out if I feel like having a chill day.
Needless to say, I’ll be making regular stops at the coke tent throughout the whole weekend. There’s usually good stuff in there, although the lines can get out of hand. Last year, poor planning caused the coke tent to shut down early but they promised to be on top of their shit this time around, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.
In short, it sounds like this Sparkle Church is going to be the best ever—totally worth the $950 price tag. I’ll probably need to take the following week off work just to recover from all the fun but it’s no big deal. I’ll just get dad to cover my rent that month.
Punk Cooking Site Starts Recipe With 1,000 Word Drunken Fight Story
BALTIMORE — New cooking website Death Comes Cooking will offer readers a refreshing take on the usual recipe/blog formula by beginning each entry with a long, intoxicated fight story, instead of “some WASP-y memoir horseshit,” according to the site’s founders.
“I couldn’t scroll past one more normie’s tale of summers at her aunt’s cabin off the coast of Maine before getting to the goddamned crème brûlée ingredient list,” declared site founder and punk scene veteran Sonia DiBarrio. “There was no edge; no blood. How can I trust you truly care about properly filling your ramekins if you haven’t tried to burn your best friend with a hot curling iron while crushing Natty Boh sixers?”
In one of the site’s best examples, DiBarrio’s “banana cream pie” post is prefaced with her account of pummelling her then-boyfriend, who was driving her home after she was expelled for being drunk in class. Unfortunately, some readers seem frustrated and confused by the format.
“I don’t even know. It went on and on for like, 600 words about being blackout drunk at 8 a.m. and puking on the side of the road outside Royal Farms and fighting with a cashier, somehow?” recalled reader Jess Alvarez. “But I’m not about to go buy a cookbook like some pilgrim or something. Once I finally got to it, the recipe wasn’t bad… the drop of almond oil really was a nice touch.”
In building readership, those behind Death Comes Cooking hope to branch out with a wider variety of recipes and violent recollections.
“Sonia hired me because I know some excellent barbecue techniques passed down from my grandfather,” said guest columnist and bandless rhythm guitarist Troy Becker, “and because I have a laundry list of alcohol-fueled aggravated assault charges that should provide some nice balance on the site. People don’t come to cooking sites just to learn how to cook — they come to learn how to cook, and learn how easy it is to get ringworm on tour.”
At press time, DiBarrio was filming a 22 minute-long YouTube video for a pepperoni roll recipe, opened by a 19-minute reenactment of the time she punched a dog in the face while on PCP.
Juggalo Elder Knows Over 1,000 Uses for Faygo
SPRINGVILLE, Ind. — Renowned Juggalo patriarch Killa Koppafield reportedly knows over 1,000 uses for the various flavors of Faygo, mystified sources confirmed.
“You see my ninja, each flavor of Faygo has its own dope-ass uses and properties,” said Koppafield. “Say you’ve got a rash on your popsicle because your Juggalette had little bump dump — Rock & Rye will take care of that in a flash, homie. For the ladies out there, maybe your cotton candy isn’t as fresh as you want it, Fruit Punch will take care of ya all day. And of course, it’s been known for many Juggalo generations that Moon Mist brings luck and prosperity. Skrilla refill-a! Whoop whoop!”
Many younger Juggalos are reportedly unaware of the various uses of the popular soft drink brand manufactured in Detroit until they encounter the enigmatic Koppafield.
“Oh dude, Killa’s shit is hella fresh! ”said Max Heir, 19. “I had a major incident at my first Gathering. Got a little overeager with the hatchet and gashed my thigh up so bad it looked like a cherry pie. Anyway, the EMTs said I might need a blood transfusion. Killa popped outta nowhere and just spat a shitload of Redpop at me. Good as new! I’ve got fuckin’ mad ‘lo love for Killa for life.”
Juggalo historian Thuggalo Shemp alleged that Insane Clown Posse members Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J have interwoven Faygo into their discography not for its local production, but for its medicinal and practical values.
“ICP is very much aware of the many uses for Faygo, including healing properties,” said Shemp. “Shaggy and Violent J have referenced Faygo so many times throughout the years not just because of its ties to their Michigan roots, but because they’re trying to take care of their family — their Juggalo family, that is. Whoop whoop!”
At press time, Koppafield was seen fishing all 52 varieties of Faygo out of his JNCO jeans in an effort to reanimate a Juggalo corpse.
Adult Man Walks Past LEGO Aisle a Little Bit Slower
MANAHAWKIN, N.J. — Local adult Sam McGrath spent two seconds shooting a brief, wistful glance down the LEGO aisle of a Stafford Target store before returning to the menial slog of his everyday life earlier this evening, several witnesses confirmed.
“I just thought I spotted some reasonably priced detergent,” said McGrath, eyes still locked on a kickass LEGO AT-AP Walker. “Sometimes people misplace a box of detergent in the toy section or something, y’know? I’m a savvy shopper. I like to look down every aisle, examine every box. Even the ones that say ‘Star Wars’ and have those dope clone trooper minifigs on them. You never know where you’ll find a good deal on the essentials.”
McGrath’s girlfriend, Daniella Nunes, reportedly encouraged McGrath to buy a “little something for himself,” prompting him to solemnly purchase a 3-pack of plain black beer Koozies.
“I don’t know how to tell him to just buy the damn toys,” said Nunes. “Our Amazon search history is just, like, ‘star wars lego,’ ‘lego for grown-ups,’ and ‘star wars adult lego cheap.’ I mean, I tried getting him some LEGOs last Christmas but he pretended to donate them to Goodwill. They’re still hidden under the kitchen sink.”
Jackson Grenier, 12, a LEGO enthusiast and one of several witnesses, claimed to have spotted McGrath glancing down the LEGO aisle on “like, a million” other occasions this past year.
“Yeah, that guy is here all the time,” said Grenier. “Sometimes when he’s not with his girlfriend he’ll just stand there for hours. One time one of those Target ladies had to check on him ‘cause people thought he was, like, stroking out. Turns out he’s just a weird loser.”
At press time, McGrath was gently cradling Target’s demo Switch, desperately clinging to the fantasy that it was, in fact, his own.
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!
Street Musician Really Could Use Street Sound Guy
NEW YORK — Veteran street musician Doug “The Jackrabbit” Landers was once again criticized today for his awful sound quality, raising the prospect of possibly finding him a street sound guy, sources at the 14th Street-Union Square Subway stop confirmed.
“I was on my way to work this morning, and all I heard was this muffled mess coming from down the stairs,” said commuter Ashley Lyon. “I think he was trying to play a Nirvana song, but his guitar’s tone knob and amp’s treble EQ were all the way down. It sounded like he was underwater. And the vocals were so buried, I’m not even sure his mic was plugged in… if he even had one. I shuffled by him real quick without making eye contact.”
However, Landers, performing at subway stations across New York for years, feels like his raw, unbridled sound is part of what makes him unique.
“I see a lot of other street musicians playing on pristine gear, but I found my trusty Roland Cube one day when I rescued it from some punks trying to light it on fire and throw it off a bridge,” said Landers. “Those kids really did a number on it, but most of the time it works just fine. And, sure, I also haven’t changed my guitar strings in years — because ‘needing’ new strings is just a myth perpetuated by Big Guitar String to get you to keep feeding their greedy pockets. Just like tuners.”
Fortunately for commuters, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority is considering hiring a series of taxpayer-funded street sound guys to help performers sound their best.
“New York has always had a rich tradition of performers doing what they can to make ends meet, but quite frankly, most of them need a little help figuring out how to get the most out of their gear,” said MTA spokesperson Debbie Salazar. “We already tested out a pilot program with Willy ‘Bucket King of Brooklyn’ Henderson, going around to street drummers and providing them with new five gallon buckets. And several Showtime dance crews have been fitted with fog machines to assist with the ambience of their performances — many of whom have already reported an additional $20 per day.”
The MTA is also working on a program to send a series of goons to beat up stand-up comedians who attempt any guerrilla performances on subway platforms.