Chief of Previously Uncontacted Tribe Asks Explorers if They’ve Heard the New Turnstile Album

TAUARIAZINHO, Brazil — An encounter with an isolated tribe resulted in an unexpected discussion of the band Turnstile, according to dumbfounded jungle guides.

“My team and I were deep in the heart of the Amazon jungle in search of a mythical lost city,” said expedition lead Sir Henry Beauregard. “After days of hacking our way through the undergrowth, we encountered an indigenous group. We were able to communicate by using elements of several local dialects. Strangely, all they wanted to talk about was the musical group Turnstile. The chief showed us dozens of copies of the band’s album ‘Glow On,’ which he claimed were a gift from the gods that came floating downriver. They’d managed to listen to the music via a rudimentary phonograph made from a porcupine quill and a large leaf rolled into a conical shape.”

Cargo plane pilot Captain Greg Lander thinks he may know how the tribe came into possession of the records.

“Our flight paths occasionally have us flying over very remote areas,” said Captain Lander. “Sometimes atmospheric conditions will cause us to burn more fuel than usual, requiring us to dump weight to stay in the air. I do recall a few years ago, our cargo included dozens of crates of records destined for a distribution center in Brasilia. We ran into some trouble and had to jettison some of them over the jungle. My guess is a crate of Turnstile records landed in the river and wound up at that village. They should be grateful we dumped those and not the Benson Boone records.”

It is often problematic when Western culture permeates secluded societies, explained anthropologist Susan Montgomery.

“Unfortunately, uncontacted peoples’ first encounters with modern civilization are often via accidental exposure to mass-produced goods. For instance, there is an African tribe who came to believe a Furby they came across was a demon which needed to be appeased with sacrifices. Indonesia’s Polahi tribe have been observed worshipping a shrine made of Garfield phones which washed up on their shores in the ‘80s. And there’s a group in the Australian outback whose ceremonial dress consists of ‘Whoomp! (There It Is)’ shirts they somehow acquired.”

At press time, the chief managed to get a copy of Turnstile’s new album “Never Enough,” which he deemed to be “decent, but a little too commercial sounding.”

Dry Hump Rash Spreads Through Christian Music Festival

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Health officials working the medical tent at the popular Living Flesh Music Festival have confirmed reports of a full-blown outbreak of Dry Hump Rash rapidly spreading through the crowd of the three-day Christian music retreat.

“We were suddenly inundated with people who had terrible burning on their inner thighs, lower abdominals, and, um, the loins. They claimed it was from being baptized in the runoff behind the port-o-johns but the visible denim-imprints made it pretty obvious. It seems more than just the holy spirit was moving these teens,” said volunteer medic Brian Camden, while discreetly handing out anti-chafing cream. “The worst we usually get here is heatstroke and the occasional talking in tongues. We preach that any contact below the belt, even if it is covered, is a slippery slope to hell. That’s why we call these blisters, Satan’s Scales.”

Attendees of the concert, however, absolutely deny these allegations.

“I was only in my tent with that girl to pray with her because she was so upset about the Michael Tait allegations. The next thing you know we are both on fire. It was the devil, obviously. Our faith was just too strong and a demon tried to enter us through our Adam & Eve,” said 17-year-old attendee Connor B., holding an ice-filled Chick-fil-A to-go bag against his pelvis. “Thankfully, my youth pastor agreed to marry us during the Land of Uz performance. He said that was the only way to truly cast the demon out. That’s great actually, I’m almost 18 and I was beginning to think I’d never get married.”

Experts blame a dangerous combination of abstinence-only education and typical elevated music festival horniness.

“You can’t just gather thousands of hormonal teens together who believe masturbation is a sin, blast contemporary Christian rock, and let them rub up against one another in a pitiful excuse for a mosh pit — this was inevitable,” said Dr. Jenna Wexler, a public health official and former church camp counselor. “If you’re gonna preach abstinence, you can’t leave anyone unmarried unattended for more than 15 minutes. A purity ring isn’t powerful enough to stop homeschool kids being away from their parents for the first time.”

At press time, a youth group from Arkansas was asked to leave after a heavy petting orgy broke out in their tent which ignited a brush fire.

There’s No Such Thing as a Male Loneliness Epidemic as Long as These Volleyballs I’ve Drawn Faces on Don’t Leave Me

A new buzzed-about phrase that the media has been discussing lately is the idea that men in society are experiencing a severe epidemic of loneliness. Don’t get me wrong, I agree that mental health is incredibly important, but I also like to call out crap whenever I hear it. That’s why I can unequivocally say this isn’t a real problem — and I have the confidence to say that in a room filled with a dozen smiling faces I’ve drawn on volleyballs. As long as they stay with me, I’ll never be alone.

If you’re one of those people who crave face-to-face interaction with actual human beings, that’s perfectly fine — just know that more often than not, it’ll leave you disappointed when they inevitably fail to meet your needs. Like when you invited everyone over to each birthday you ever had from age five to thirty-five, and nobody ever bothered to show up.

Real-life people, back when I still interacted with them, used to call me “unhinged” with a “screw-loose,” coupled with a personality that was “downright frightening.” These were just lies, inspired by jealousy. Nothing could be further from the truth, and if you disagree, feel free to take it up with my close-knit circle of Mikasa V200Ws, who I’m confident will gladly vouch for me.

That’s why my life is so much better than everyone else’s — who wouldn’t want a team of devoted, loyal pals who’ve always got your back? If I ask one of them to be my plus-one for Friday movie night, they never say no. Well, except for that one occasion with my blue Wilson K1. But let’s just say a swift puncture to the side of his tiny leathered face quickly resolved matters, and we’ve been on great terms ever since.

Whether you want to call it “modern solitude,” a “social disconnection crisis,” or “a crippling case of isolation caused by my questionable interactions with inanimate objects that is now on the radar of local law enforcement,” that’s up to you. All I know is that tonight I’m gonna do what I always do on Friday nights — cracking open a few cold ones, throwing on my Fight Club DVD, and having sex with a bunch of volleyballs.

Cancelled Band’s Tour Shirt Demoted to Pajamas

NEWTON, Mass. — A local man’s once beloved band tour shirt was unceremoniously demoted to being worn exclusively as pajamas after the group was declared cancelled by the general public, family members have confirmed.

“What the hell did I do to my owner to deserve this? I’ve been a conversation piece for over two decades, and just because people found out the lead singer DM’d some underage girls and the rest of the band knew, I have to be downgraded to sleepwear? If people can separate the art from the artist, surely we can do so for the merchandise as well,” said the shirt from its new permanent spot draped over an office chair. “I’m lucky if I even make it past the bathroom after his morning shits, on top of the humiliation of being in the jammies rotation with a Morrissey tank top. I yearn to be free!”

The shirt’s owner said his choices were either transitioning it to pajamas or throwing it away.

“Don’t get me wrong, I feel disgusted and betrayed by the band’s actions and will never support them again. But this shirt is from the first show I ever attended, so I figured the next best thing was to keep it around for wearing to bed or when I’m too lazy to put on fresh clothes in the house. I got some nasty looks last time I wore it out in public, so it was either this or the trash can,” said James Thomlinson. “I’ll wear it to sleep for a few months until it gets all stretched out and then cram it into the back of my closet where the moths can take care of it”

Second hand clothing stores have been struggling to find viable uses for shirts from problematic bands.

“We’ll take almost anything so long as it’s in good condition, but man these pop punk and emo tees are a hard sell and yet we’ve been flooded with them after all these bands have been outed as creeps. We’ve ‘rebranded’ them as dish rags and animal pee pads in order to make them more appealing, which seems to be working,” said Savers manager Diane Parsons. “You should see how many Brand New tees we’ve sold as reusable diapers. It’s our number one seller.”

As of press time, Thomlinson’s wife surprised him by incorporating the shirt into an upcycled blanket with the rest of his cancelled band tees.

JD Vance Sitting on Curb After Trump Forgets to Pick Him Up

WASHINGTON — Vice President JD Vance was reportedly left sitting on the curb for several hours today after President Trump forgot to pick him up after a charity softball game, sources confirmed.

“There must have been some sort of DEI emergency at the White House, President Trump wouldn’t just forget about me…would he?” pouted Vice President Vance, sitting on the curb with his face in his hands. “No, no way, I’m an integral part of this administration, with various managerial tasks and assorted office duties—he always says I’m the MVP of getting coffee and donuts for everyone. I better wait here a little longer, he promised to take me to see Ted Nugent’s one man show at the Kennedy Center and I want to make sure he doesn’t think I bailed on him when he shows up looking for me.”

Secret Service Agent Lance Connelly reportedly had to console the Vice President for several hours while they waited for Air Force One to arrive.

“When the President didn’t show up, JD took it really hard—I mean I’ve never seen a Vice President cry this much, and I was there when Trump tried to have Mike Pence killed,” said Agent Connelly, wringing out his tear-soaked tie. “I sat with him for a few hours and let him play games on my phone before I faked a call saying the President got pulled away to nuke Iran. Honestly, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that President Trump was already on the 14th hole at Mar-A-Lago.”

President Trump fielded questions from reporters after Air Force One finally arrived back in the Capitol.

“The fake news media are saying I forgot to pick up that crybaby JD Vance, which is false! I was just a little delayed and got him as soon as I was done with some very important business, but that didn’t stop JD from sobbing all the way home. I mean have you ever seen such a whiner, folks? No wonder his parents sold him for drugs when he was a kid,” said Trump, bouncing an empty Big Mac box off Vance’s head. “I tried to cheer him up by taking him to McDonald’s on the way back to the White House, but he embarrassed me by ordering a Filet-O-Fish with a carton of milk like a stray cat. Now my new upholstery from the beautiful people of Qatar smells like Ted Cruz’s ugly wife, no President in history has been treated so poorly by his Vice President!”

At press time, Trump was reportedly working with his lawyers to offload full custody of JD Vance to Peter Thiel.

What the Hell? This Guy Majored in English but Doesn’t Like the National

It’s fair to say that since the beginning of recorded history, humanity has known the world follows some kind of natural order, like the food chain, the sun rising in the east, or glam rock becoming popular for like 2 months every ten years. No matter how we try to fight against it, the world imposes its natural law.

However, something (or in this case, someone) has threatened to throw everything we knew about the universe into complete chaos. Defying all logic, there exists a man who, despite holding a Bachelor’s in English, is not a fan of revered indie band The National.

What erudite, well-read human being wouldn’t be into a band with lyrics that so intricately explore the depth of human emotion? A guy who went to state school, apparently. 40-year-old Stuart Wilson missed the part of his undergraduate studies that explains how becoming an ardent lover of Matt Beringer’s lyrics and the band’s emotional melodies is a prerequisite.

“I really thought people either lied about liking them or just listened to them performatively, like when someone says they’ve read ‘Infinite Jest’ or ‘Ulysses’. And believe me, I’ve tried several times to get into them just to get my college buddies off my back. One time, I tried giving ‘Trouble Will Find Me’ another shot and only made it three songs in before I started dozing off and nearly struck a telephone pole. Was their entire discography underwritten by Ambien or something?”

It’s like he isn’t capable of feeling complex emotions! He probably felt nothing reading the ending of “A Farewell to Arms”, too, the sick bastard.

“Every album just sounds like a run-on sentence about being a sad dad. Listen, I mostly use the writing and literacy skills I honed in college to edit TV instruction manuals, so frankly, their whole act just comes off as a soundtrack for elitists who only drink wine at parties. I’m more of a Decemberists guy, so sue me! Am I having my degree rescinded or something?”

Wilson’s sentiments towards the acclaimed indie darlings are so bizarre and unnatural, they may rewrite how scholars perceive the human brain. On the other hand, we obtained his high school standardized test scores, and while he scored high on the English portion, his math scores reflected those of a child who ingested glue as a midday snack.

It could simply be that his brain is wired incorrectly. Here’s hoping, because if a man can get a degree in English without once pining for a girl a little too young for him while “Fake Empire” blares through his AirPods, the country truly is lost.

Coworker Going to Show You “Bluegrass Tribute to Metallica” Video Whether You Give a Shit or Not

CORTLAND, N.Y. — Local forklift driver Kenny Avalon couldn’t resist the urge to show you a Facebook video of a bunch of guys playing Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” but with banjos, annoyed sources report.

“I’m always finding hilarious and cool videos that happen to come up on my algorithm, and when that occurs, it is my duty to shove my phone in your face and watch your pupils intently to make sure they’re dilating at the exact right moments,” Avalon stated while sitting at a completely empty break table. “It’s too bad no one ever sits on break with me too often, because I’ve found a badass video of a skeleton playing ‘Eruption’ by Van Halen, and now there’s no one here to experience it with me against their will. Oh well, I’ll just bookmark it and show them off after the next team meeting and when I can get a good angle to corner them.”

You, however, complained about Avalon’s persistent behavior.

“Too many times I’ve been sniped by Kenny with his stupid videos of little kids playing drums to AC/DC or of acoustic versions of Black Sabbath songs on TikTok, and I’m not sure how much more I can take,” you explained while peering over your shoulder to make sure Avalon wasn’t around. “I’ve gone so far as to straight up tell Kenny I’m not interested. The last few times I pretended not to know who he even was and he still won’t let up. 10 years of putting up with it is long enough. I have to find a new job.”

Many companies have experienced large numbers of harassment cases that stem from force-watching videos.

“The advent of cellphones and of targeted social media posts have contributed more to workplace discomfort than fake laughing and smiling when someone says, ‘living the dream,’” Human Resources Director Ashani Wilson said. “Now with AI proliferation, the frustrations have only gotten worse. I can’t tell you how many harassment complaints I’ve gotten over Gen-Xers flashing fake AI-generated videos of babies swearing at each other to whoever is in their general vicinity. It’s truly a plague on our workplace culture. These were the same types that, as children, would just have to show you the cool stick they found.”

At press time, Avalon frantically showed his coworker a video of a metal version of “Cotton-Eye Joe” while he was at a urinal in the restroom.

Six Songs We Listened To This Week That Apparently Weren’t Good Enough For The New THPS Soundtrack

Now that the fireworks are over and you’ve had your fill of glizzies or whatever the hell we’re supposed to call them now, you’re probably wondering what to listen to while you attempt to reattach your fingers. Don’t worry, we have you covered. Here are six songs we listened to this week while wondering when we last felt even remotely proud of anything.

Wet Leg ‘Mangetout’

Wet Leg’s ‘Moisturizer’ – the highly anticipated follow-up to their self-titled debut – has finally been thrust upon the world. While you might not find anything as urgently catchy as ‘Chaise Lounge’ here, it’s still a hell of a second take and you should be grateful for anything that gets your sad ass dancing and feeling things again. Plus, your therapist recently told you to work on tempering your unrealistic expectations of others, so get to work, buddy.

TWRP ‘My Big Day Off’

It’s been over a year since TWRP released new music, which has been cause for concern considering the band typically releases about forty albums a month. Fortunately, the group is still alive and as well as any of us can be in these times. ‘My Big Day Off’ finds our half-robot half-humanoid friends crafting a lazy day anthem for the impending apocalypse. It revels in the minutia of free time as the world caves in around us all, and it might even make you attempt to dance.

Deftones ‘My Mind Is a Mountain’

In case your weird roommate who whispers to themselves all the time hasn’t told you, Deftones announced their 10th album, ‘Private Music.’ It’s an odd title for what we assume will be one of the most talked-about releases of the entire summer, but we’re guessing it’s probably a metaphor or something. Lead single ‘My Mind Is a Mountain’ has just about everything you’d want from a Deftones song, but we’re sure you’ll find a way to complain about it anyway.

Die Spitz ‘Throw Yourself to the Sword’

Recently it feels like there’s been a dire shortage of songs that make you feel like you spontaneously grew a mullet while shotgunning a whole six-pack at once, but fortunately there are bands like Die Spitz. ‘Throw Yourself to the Sword’ plays like the musical equivalent of a really bitchin’ snake tattoo. It will make you want to set off fireworks in your quiet neighborhood while simultaneously restoring a ‘79 Camaro. Press play and prepare to rip the sleeves off all your shirts.

Pig Pen ‘Heat Wave’

Finally, a song that encapsulates how goddamn cranky we’ve all been during this supposed ‘heat wave’ that will likely be rebranded as ‘just normal summer now’ in the not-too-distant future. Pig Pen’s ‘Heat Wave’ from their latest album, ‘Mental Madness,’ is a brutal racket that tends to lean closer to psychosis than your everyday run-of-the-mill ‘madness.’ We probably don’t need to tell you, but the whole album shreds too. Clocking in under 30 delightfully batshit minutes, even your non-existent attention span can handle it.

Goldfinger ft. Mark Hoppus ‘Freaking Out A Bit’

Despite being the entire reason for the franchise’s success, there is not a single Goldfinger song on the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4 Official Soundtrack. That would certainly have us ‘Freaking Out A Bit,’ which probably explains why the band decided to release a scathing diss track aimed at Hawk himself. Lyrics like ‘bet you can’t even kickflip anymore’ and ‘I’m learning how to do an 1800 to make your entire career irrelevant’ are sure to get under the legendary skater’s skin. We just hope Mark Hoppus doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.

Finally get your thumb put back on and want to hear some more? We figured that might be the case. That’s why we put together an entire playlist of everything we’ve pretended to listen to this year. It wasn’t easy, but someone had to do it. Check it out below:

Serial Killer Leaves Knife Hanging Over Side of Sink in Case He Wants to Kill Again Later

MOAB, Utah — Local sociopath and murder enthusiast Greg Allen Hargrove reportedly left his favorite blade casually hanging over the side of the sink Tuesday evening “just in case” he felt like treating himself to another killing spree later, confirmed sources.

“I dunno, I wasn’t really in the mood for another body, but you never know,” Hargrove said nonchalantly while scrolling through red room streams on the dark web. “I keep the knife there for convenience, you know? Like, ‘Hey, if something happens, I’ll be ready.’ If not, it’s no big deal. I’ll just clean it up tomorrow. Or whenever I get around to it.”

Hargove’s roommate of five months, Tim Bradford, expressed frustration of the brutal serial killer’s laziness and slovenly lifestyle, seemingly unaware or indifferent to Hargrove’s murderous extracurricular activities.

“Hey, man. To each his own. As long as you pay your rent on time, I don’t care if you throw parties, have friends over, or even if there’s muffled screams emanating from his bedroom at all hours of the night. But when you start leaving dirty dishes and knives around, we have a problem,” explained Bradford. “Like, what if I’m having a girl over and then she freaks out because Hargrove left a femur in the bathtub? I guess he must have a dog somewhere and that’s why he’s got the bones? Again, I don’t care. Just clean your shit.”

Renowned FBI profiler Dr. Sandra Laxley points out that Hargrove’s laziness nearly disqualifies him from being labeled a serial killer.

“I’ve studied hundreds of serial killers, and most of them are perfectionists, fixating on their victim’s last moments and making sure to cover their tracks,” Dr. Laxley explained. “But Greg? Greg is something different. He’s like the guy who shows up at the gym, but instead of working out, he just texts on his phone for an hour. He’s there, but he’s not really doing the work. As an FBI profiler that does this stuff for a living, I can’t help but think his attitude is really disrespectful.”

At press time, Hargrove was lazily chopping up a body in his bedroom while eating a sandwich and watching an episode of “The Office.”

Why the “Don’t Tread On Me” Bumper Sticker on My Car Means I Don’t Have to Use My Turn Signal

Move over, cuck! You’re wrong for assuming you’d receive the same courtesy you show to others, because around here, I run the road. I don’t know how they taught you to drive up in Woke Groomer Vermont or wherever it is you’re from, but down here in Western Pennsylvania, those of us who actually show our love for our country on our bumpers are exempt from using their turn signals. Get used to it.

As you very well should already know, turn signals are just another form of governmental oppression, like masks, vaccines, and condoms, and I’ve done just fine without those. Sure, there was that brief two-week stint I spent in intensive care after I went to that amazing Great White concert during a COVID surge, but I think I was just tired. Well, tired and struggling to breathe. We don’t need to get into it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you not see my bumper sticker on my excessively modified Ford F-150? “Don’t Tread On Me” also refers to horn beeps and middle fingers, there, pal, so you’d better be careful. This decal of 6 guns with the words “My Family” on my back window isn’t a feint. Not only am I fully prepared to escalate this situation far beyond what is reasonable, but I am chomping at the bit to do so. Also, I never started a family.

All I did was swerve suddenly into your lane without any warning or indication. It’s not like I did something truly obnoxious like tailgate you excessively or throw empty cans of Monster Energy at the back of your car. I did that to the guy in front of me, and I don’t see him bitching about my driving.

Well, true, he very well may be bitching about my driving from the ditch I ran his car into, but that’s beside the point.

I digress. There’s just no getting through to you libs, so I don’t even know why I bother. Go ahead and use your woke-ass turn signal to your heart’s content. I don’t care. We patriots will continue making the country run, so go ahead to your drag story hour or art history class or whatever. I would say I’m sorry I violated your precious little traffic laws, but you and I both know that would be total bullshit.