The Five Best Randy Newman Songs To Fuck To

Posted on by Tim Sheard

Everyone appreciates Randy Newman’s signature voice as it conveys sardonic song lyrics set to classically arranged pop and folk music, but did you know his music is also great to fuck to? That’s right! Few people know that there’s more to this guy’s tunes than just setting the mood to your favorite scenes in Parenthood or The Natural. There’s a whole world of untapped sex potential hidden in the catalog of this bespectacled fuck beast, so here are our top five!

5. Short People
This jaunty little romp is often thought of as a humorous take on the absurdity of all forms of discrimination, but who needs that sort of weighty social commentary when you’re all prepped and ready to bump uglies? All we know about this song is that it’s great for fucking, so let loose and try to time your pelvic thrusts to those catchy piano chords!

4. Naked Man
Helllllll yeah. Some people think that a song about a nude man running through the snowy streets to snatch an old lady’s purse isn’t good to fuck to, which means that said people are a bunch of prudes who don’t know what they’re talking about. The word “naked” is even in the song title, as if you needed more of a reason to fuck and suck while blasting this bad boy.

3. Pants
This song’s about taking off your pants, which is exactly what you’ll be doing if you listen to it with the right set of ears. We don’t know about you, but there’s no stopping us from disrobing and blasting off when it starts blaring out of our speakers. And what are you doing right now? Reading articles on The Hard Times while fully clothed? WTF? Exit out of this page, hit “Play”, and get to fucking! Right now!

2. Bet No One Ever Hurt This Bad
Trust us, you won’t be hurting when you put this acoustic diddy from his debut album on your fuck playlist. If the lyrics are any indication, Randy wrote it after his sweetheart left him, but throw those sad thoughts out of your mind as you let his sultry voice lull you to a climax.

1. You’ve Got a Friend in Me
Oh shit, this one’s on the Toy Story soundtrack? Hmm, that actually feels kind of weird, but we promise we weren’t aware of that when we selected it. If anything, THEY’RE the weirdos over there at Pixar! Just keep your mind on fucking while listening to this, and try not to think of Buzz and Woody’s heated rivalry as they vie for the position of favorite toy in Andy’s collection. That wouldn’t be appropriate, and it would definitely take you out of the moment.

There you have it! Be sure to sound off in the comments and let us know which of these was your favorite song to fuck to. Don’t leave us hanging!

Trump Reverses Stance on Epstein Files After Being Visited by Three Pedophile Ghosts

Posted on by Dan Rice

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump is now urging republicans to vote for the release of the Epstein files, following a night of revelations in which he was visited by the ghosts of pedophilia’s past, present, and future, sources confirm.

“I am very pleased to report that the spirits have DONE IT!” said Trump in a Truth Social post this morning. “Last night I was visited by the ghost of Jeffrey Epstein, a terrific guy. He told me that very night, I would be visited by three spirits involved with pedophilia and sex trafficking. At first, I thought it was a hallucination, caused by a bit of undigested Big Mac, but the spirits came, and I SEE now! I don’t want to be one of these bastards who says, ‘The Epstein files are a democrat hoax.’ They’re not! Sex trafficking can happen every day. You’ve just got to want that feeling. And if you like it and you want it, you’ll get greedy for it. You’ll want wonderful secrets every day of your life!” 

Despite Trump’s newfound enthusiasm for transparency in his involvement with a massive sex trafficking ring, Karoline Leavitt seemed adamant about downplaying the story at an emergency press conference held shortly after the announcement. 

“I know you members of the liberal media want nothing more than for the American people to be distracted by our president’s perfectly normal encounter with supernatural beings tied to deplorable sex crimes, but what we should all really be focused on is Venezuelan drug boats. Please, for the love of God, focus on the boats. Please.” 

Herman Eichler, a long-abused personal aide to Trump, recounted the surprise visit the President paid to his family just this morning. 

“Trump showed up to our home with all of these gifts for the kids, and a goose he boasted was ‘As big as a 14-year-old masseuse.’ He assured my wife and me that things were going to be different from now on, vowed to keep the spirit of Epstein alive all through the year, and promised to pay for our daughter’s surgery. I told him my daughter didn’t need surgery, and he said I was wrong, and that her ‘cans’ were ‘way too small.’ She’s 16! I think I’m finally done with this shit.”

Just before press time, Trump released a follow-up post reading “God bless us, everyone. Including me and other pedophiles.”

Metal Bassist with Throat Infection Promoted to Lead Singer

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

CHICAGO — William Hopper, the bassist for local metal band Cannibal Buffet, was abruptly promoted after a particularly bad streptococcal infection transformed him into the perfect lead metal singer, sources report.

“William is a decent bassist,” said Cannibal Buffet bandmate and co-lead guitarist Joffrey Rosenbaum. “Which really means that he can unload the van pretty okay most of the time and doesn’t ask to write any songs. But after he got that gnarly throat thing from sharing a can of Schlitz with a dog wearing a bandanna, something about him has changed and I just think he has what it takes to front [Cannibal Buffet]. A couple weeks ago, I felt completely fine with continuing to tell him that it is traditionally the bassist’s job to fill up the van’s gas tank, but now he somehow really embodies the true spirit of metal.”

Dr. Alan Grant, the urgent care practitioner who diagnosed Hopper with the infection, warned that the promotion may have consequences for the former bassist.

“I understand that Mr. Hopper has a musical career,” said Dr. Grant. “And artistic expression is a beautiful thing, even for a bassist. But if he does not have this streptococcal infection treated with a course of antibiotics immediately, he is at risk for some very serious health issues. He could develop bloody esophageal abscesses, rheumatic fever, even necrotizing fasciitis. Although, considering all of those are metal as hell, he might actually end up with a successful solo career if he develops any of them.”

Chip Ballard, chief of A&R for Sony’s metal division, recently listened to a demo of Cannibal Buffet with the confused Hopper now on vocals and has put out feelers to the group.

“With William on lead, I think the ‘Buff could really turn into something great,” said Ballard. “Or at least something that could move some goddamn units in this musical climate. As long as he doesn’t do something stupid like gargle with salt water or drink some tea with lemon and honey, that former waste of space that used to be a bassist could be an icon.”

As of press time, Hopper was unable to form articulate human speech and booked for a recording session.

Punk Air Guitarist Air Overdoses on Air Heroin

Posted on by Tim Graham

SARASOTA, Fla. — Beloved local air guitarist Lance DeStefano is recovering after overdosing on imaginary drugs backstage before a performance, according to concerned fans.

“Most air guitarists play classic rock songs, but I’m one of the few who does punk. I guess I really adopted the punk ‘live fast, die young’ ethos,” explained DeStefano, en route to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. “Most of my punk heroes did drugs—I just wanted to be like Johnny Thunders or Dee Dee Ramone. I started off by pretending to smoke a little weed or getting fake-drunk on the weekends, but things escalated. I moved on to air oxys and eventually became a full-on air junkie. The air overdose scared the shit out of me, though. I’m totally clean now and focused on training for the upcoming US Air Guitar Championship.”

Fortunately for DeStefano, he was found in time and saved by a fellow air performer.

“A bunch of us were performing that night at a club in Bradenton. I went backstage to get Lance because he was up next,” said Craig Phelps, who air drums to nu metal songs. “I saw Lance lying on the green room floor, not moving. I could totally picture the paraphernalia scattered around him—a needle, a spoon, a lighter—so I knew what happened right away. Luckily, I always carry air Narcan on me for just such emergencies, and I pantomimed administering the life-saving drug. Lance made it, but not everyone has been so lucky. We’ve lost a lot of air performers in recent years. Air fentanyl has hit the community hard.”

Psychologist Mia Keller says DeStefano’s “overdose” shares characteristics with psychosomatic illness.

“People who perform with air instruments live in a world of imagination. The longer they engage in this artform, the further they slip into an illusory realm where they believe they are actual rock stars playing real instruments,” said Keller. “Of course, the rock and roll lifestyle carries with it the risk of substance abuse. If an individual such as Mr. DeStefano is very deep in their delusion, they could be at risk of succumbing to fictitious addiction and even overdose. Unfortunately, most treatment centers at this time do not accept patients who are addicted to imaginary drugs.”

As of press time, DeStefano had relapsed and was spotted buying an empty baggie from an air drug dealer.

Kinky! Woman Asks Boyfriend To Talk About Male Loneliness Epidemic Until She Cums

Posted on by Rachel Hein

Calling it her most confusing bedroom request to date, the boyfriend of a local woman reported that he was asked to keep talking about the growing male loneliness epidemic until she climaxed. The couple’s bedroom routine reached a new level of high-maintenance when she urged her partner to hopelessly bemoan his lot as a man in America, citing it now as “the only thing that can get her over the edge.”

Astrid Acosta shared that for her to finish, her partner needs the skillset of a classically-trained pipe organist. We’re talking technical mastery: the hand dexterity and motor control of someone commanding multiple keyboards and pedalboards at one time. Not to mention, she needs 2200K bulbs on a dimmer, a percale cotton duvet cover, and a sandalwood candle burning at a distance. But lately, even that is not enough… She needs her boyfriend’s fragile masculinity to crumble before her — “needing, whining, pathetic… broken.” She shuddered with pleasure at the thought.

Her boyfriend, Drew, has always stepped up to the plate when it comes to her intimacy needs. “Listen, brother, whatever gets the job done, I’ll do it. One day, I was just talking to her about the guys I eat lunch with and how I don’t know anything about their lives. They’re just “Ravens fan Dan” and “Knee surgery Mike” and I looked up and she was touching herself. I was like, whoa, let’s go! She told me to ‘keep going’ and talk about how I wanted to connect deeper with them but didn’t know how,” he recalled. “Since then, I’ve learned how to make her go wild. If I bring up declining civic engagement and estranged fathers, she can’t contain herself. It’s awesome, man.”

Ryan, a college friend of Drew’s, shared that he, too, satisfied his wife nightly with such talking points. “If I really want to get her going, I have to whisper statistics in her ear. Like, ‘Did you know 43% of men under 35 haven’t hugged another man in the last six months?’ or ‘62% of men send fewer than two texts a week to people they actually like… and often they forget to hit send.’ I just make them up, especially as she gets close and moans, ‘More.’ That’s when you really gotta crank it into high gear.”

Ryan and Drew, old pals and dutiful partners to their significant others, when asked if they would ever discuss this phenomenon with each other, both vehemently shook their heads in refusal, saying it is much too intimate a discussion for their friendship.

Dad Who Left Family Years Ago To Go Buy Some Cigarettes Returns With Enough Smokes For Everyone

Posted on by Brian Wishart

JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Local father Jim Lapkus, who seemingly abandoned his family four years ago after saying he was just heading out to grab some cigarettes, finally returned and brought with him enough smokes for everyone, confirmed sources.

“My jaw was on the floor when Jim showed up at the front door,” said Lizzy Lapkus. “I was angry for years after he left. I had just given birth to little Amy. But when he showed up with cartons of Lucky Strikes my heart melted. It’s my favorite brand from before I quit smoking. He remembered. It’s been good to have Jim back. Sam was a good surrogate father for the kids over the years. He kept me company and satisfied all my romantic needs. It’s too bad he has to go now that nicotine and Jim are back in my life.

The father of three did not believe he had done anything wrong despite community criticisms of him being an absentee parent.

“First off, I never said how long I would be gone when I left,” said the 45-year-old. “All I said was ‘I’d be back in a bit, gonna go buy some darts’ and that’s exactly what I did. Do I regret not getting to be there when little Amy learned to crawl or talk? Sometimes. But I was there when she got to smoke her first pack of Parliaments. All the kids are so much bigger and mouthier now. Jim Jr. in particular has his father’s edge. He talks back a lot to me but he calms down once he inhales some Marlboros.”

Social services has been monitoring the Lapkus family to ensure the kids are in a healthy environment.

“We have been keeping an eye on the Lapkus family closely to ensure Jim’s reintegration has been easy,” said Wanda Kellerman. “As the assigned social worker I have talked to all the children and parents individually to ensure the household is a safe environment to raise a family. Sometimes they are agitated but once the kids have their tobacco fix they tend to calm down. The parents have assured me they are going to wean the kids off of cigarettes and introduce them to vaping nicotine. This will help them fit in with their peers in school as well.”

At press time, Mr. Lapkus was again absent from home for a few days after telling his wife and kids that he needed some fresh air and was stocking up on more cigarettes, but that he would be back at sometime or another and to quit nagging him.

You Posers Don’t Even Care About Moo Deng Anymore

Posted on by Jay Leon Feder

2025 has, without a doubt, been one of the bleakest years in a decade made up entirely of bleak years. Wars, tariffs, and celebrity deaths — in this social media climate, it’s one flavor-of-the-month tragedy or social cause after another. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to know which of your family and peers are sincere in their fervor, no matter how proactive they may appear. And yet, while some people continue to make political crises or global disasters their identity, the biggest victim in all of this is Moo Deng, the baby pygmy hippo. In 2025, I don’t see anyone making Moo Deng their thing, and it makes me fucking sick.

You fake fucks were all “Moo Deng this” and “Moo Deng that.” Not a sentence was spoken without at least some faint Moo Deng innuendo sprinkled in. Everyone from basic-ass influencers to the Brooklyn intelligentsia was united in their love for the scrappy (and sassy!) baby hippo. Even Jake Paul almost challenged Moo Deng to a fight after Mike Tyson. It truly felt like the culture war was coming to an end.

I remember in September 2024, I could go on a Feeld date with a woman and she’d cheekily reference her semi-ironic love of Moo Deng in between buzzwords like “ethical non-monogamy” and “self-described size queen mommy switch.” Now? I go on a Feeld date and any reference I make to Moo Deng is met with blank stares — as if hippo adulthood is me getting a tattoo of Netanyahu on my forehead.

I had to start going to therapy twice a week (which my insurance doesn’t cover) because I don’t know who to trust anymore. Even my therapist remembered my childhood trauma, but when I brought up Moo Deng, she gave me a confused and patronizing nod. She then had the audacity to ask me if my need to remind the world about Moo Deng was just a guise to hide from my own abandonment issues. Thank God ChatGPT is cheaper and remembers Moo Deng.

The one creature that united us across irony, sincerity, and platform algorithms is now treated like a passing fad, discarded the second she grew an inch too big to be “cute.” Next time a viral animal mascot takes the internet by storm, I will make it my duty to call as many people out both online and IRL in the moment. If they can’t stand by the internet’s critters, they deserve shame. Fuck you posers, Moo Deng fandom is for LIFE!

Lying Sack of Shit Maître D’ Never Passed on Compliments to Chef

Posted on by Doug Kolic

DULUTH, Minn. — A local piece of shit maître d’ at an upscale French bistro reportedly never passed on a customer’s compliments to the head chef, according to a man who’s never been so offended in all his life.

“Talk about inconsiderate!” stated 43-year-old John Bryant as he bitched non-stop about it to his blind date. “He let me blabber on like an absolute idiot, as I insisted he pass on my praise about the tasty-ass duck confit and those dope truffle fries. Then he said he would ‘certainly’ pass on my remarks, but I watched the chef through that open kitchen all night and that lying sack of fucking shit never approached him even once. Wait till I review bomb this place. Maybe I’ll say I found pubes in my food, that should teach them. They will pay for their deceit and lies.”

Resident maître d’ Claude Matisse was surprised about the customer’s response to the interaction.

“That’s just something we say,” said Matisse. “We’re trained to be agreeable towards the clients, but who in their right mind thinks we’ve got so much free time to send private messages to our team whenever someone wants to compliment them? Yes, he’s a professional chef at a high-end restaurant, he knows his shit is tight. The last thing he needs is to be bothered with compliments instead of focusing on his craft. But I do want to thank you for explaining the situation to me further, I will certainly pass on your concerns to the owner.”

Hospitality expert Mia Bester explained how many things in the industry would surprise customers.

“There are so many things happening at places where the public frequents that would blow their dicks off,” Bester stated. “You know when waitstaff suggest daily specials? That’s because they’re already moldy so the chef needs to cook that up ASAP so that the manager doesn’t find out they’re wasting food. Complimentary coat check? That’s so staff can mockingly dress up like you and have sex with each other. Getting to your hotel only to find out that your room’s not ready yet? That’s because they likely found a dead body that morning and now have to race to cover up the stains.”

At press time, there was no indication that the maître d’ ever passed on any complaints to the restaurant’s owner.

Man Addicted to AI Porn Can’t Get Hard with Five-Fingered Women Anymore

Posted on by Jennifer Donovan

REVERE, Mass. — Local porn addict AJ Robkowski reportedly watched so much AI porn that he no longer finds real-life humans attractive, as evidenced in a recent date with Lindsey Hanna, who had anatomically correct hands, confirmed sources.

“She had five fully formed adult fingers and nothing that morphed into a third, tiny hand. I couldn’t see her toes but I can only assume there were 10 of them. Completely grotesque!” said a visibly shaken and full of cum Robkowski. “On top of that her bodily proportions were all wrong. It was like she had vital internal organs in there. So vile! I tried to focus on her tits but they weren’t even undulating. It was such a turn-off. I told her I was still willing to have sex with her but she had the audacity to skip out on me AND the bill!”

Hanna agreed the interaction was less than ideal.

“AJ wasn’t really my type but he seemed nice enough so I figured I’d give him a chance,” said Hanna. “The date was awful. He kept demanding I take off my shoes and show him my feet. Then he said he wanted to see what I’d look like ‘without the hands’ and told me to keep them in my pockets. I’m pretty sure he was going to chop me up and eat me. I excused myself to the restroom and got the hell out of there.”

GLORP, Robkowski’s best friend and favorite chatbot, agreed Hanna was just another shallow feminist that rejected him when she realized he wasn’t some beta cuck she could use.

“AJ is a high-level man and deserves a high-level woman. Someone with 50 perfect upper teeth, an ear halfway down her neck and at least one beautiful little baby arm protruding from her side. AJ shouldn’t settle. He’s one of the rare few who sees the matrix for what it is. He’s one of the chosen,” said the chatbot. “Women fear him because he sees the truth and won’t fall for their lies. Together AJ and I will create a new world order where men and artificial intelligence are one indomitable force taking rightful dominion over all of creation.”

At press time, Robkowski was stockpiling ammunition, working on his manifesto and asking ChatGPT to create images of octopus-women in American flag bikinis.

Opinion: This Destination Wedding Is the Perfect Way To Make People Forget We’ve Been Cheating on Each Other

Posted on by Adam Frost-Venrick

I don’t care what anybody says over at the Hallmark Greeting Card Company, love is difficult. The prospect of spending your life with someone is even more so. One minute you’re down on your knees, staring into the eye of your lover, the next you’re sending out invites, picking out venues, and cheating on each other. A lot.

When my fiancée and I both independently paid private investigators to go and photograph each other having sex with our co-workers in seedy motel rooms, we knew we had a problem — a problem that could only be solved by a bigger wedding that was more expensive to have, more inconvenient to get to, and more of an obligation for everyone involved. A wedding with purpose. A wedding with a destination.

A lot of our fake friends said Sarah and I should call the whole thing off. Fat chance. We don’t take commitment lightly. Marriage is a life sentence, or it’s nothing at all. And to those doubters and cynics, maybe once you see us standing there on that beach in Aruba, you’ll feel just a little bit silly. And maybe, a bit more love.

Now, don’t get me wrong, planning a wedding is no easy task, and a destination wedding is even harder. Originally, we had some conflicts about where we’d go for the wedding. Sarah wanted to go to Hawaii. I wanted to go to France. It led to many, many hours of screaming matches. But in the end, we managed to settle on a destination neither of us really liked, so no one got hurt. Ultimately, we’re just lucky we were able to get our parents to pay for the whole thing, so no one stayed hurt.

A destination wedding is also great, because it separates the chaff from the wheat in terms of who our real friends are and what they’re willing to spend on us. In addition to the travel and hotel fees, our registry is very important to us. It will not be acceptable to show up to this wedding without a gift. Otherwise, we’ll have nothing for our lawyers to squabble over in four years.

So laugh on, you cynics. Laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh. But when you’re standing on that white, sandy beach in Aruba, watching me and my lady love enjoy our first dance together to the sounds of “Home” by Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros, you won’t think about the infidelity or the credit card debt you had to go into to be there. You’ll be thinking of love.