Do you remember that god-awful movie “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button?” It starred Brad Pitt as an old baby who lives backwards and fucks a blonde lady and eventually dies of infant dementia. Also, if we’re remembering correctly, Hurricane Katrina was somehow involved.
Yeah, it wasn’t a good film. Anyway, this punk who quite recently joined the ranks of the legal adults is rapidly pursuing the same fate of entering the grave after an exhausting existence while still looking like a nicotine-stained fetus.
Though it is not at all surprising that a member of the punk community would be dying young, in this instance, it does bear a striking resemblance to the film in that this punk’s brain is also eroding all cognitive function with alarming alacrity.
Just the other day he began his normal morning routine by popping his shoulder back into its socket like he always does, but when he went for his standard breakfast of a 40 oz. of fermented Yoo-hoo, he could no longer remember what the drink was called, instead referring to it as “mean brown.” That is clearly the mentality of someone who has lived a whole life but, on paper, cannot legally rent a car.
Additionally, there’s his love life, which we will generally refer to as “whiplash-fuck city.” Yes, this punk seems relegated by whatever cruel manipulation of time and biology to never find a sexual partner that is age appropriate for him.
If he isn’t hooking up with the freshman girl at school who sells him Adderall, then he’s hooking up with the unemployed, thirty-something single mom down the block who he steals Adderall from. That is just a blueprint for contracting syphilis – which might also explain the brain decay we described earlier.
So let’s all just take a moment of silence in mourning that not only is this young punk’s life nearing its end but also that said life quite, unfortunately, parallels a D minus romance fantasy film. Also, we want to reiterate that the frame story for that whole movie, based on an F. Scott Fitzgerald short story, was fucking Hurricane Katrina! How the fuck did that work?
If you’ve got a job that you go to at least five days a week and have a different pair of pants for each day, hey, good for you. Did you major in superiority at Europe University? This list isn’t for you. But if you have a job and only one pair of pants? Welcome to this list, friend. Here are some ways for all you mono-pantsed iconoclasts to avoid getting hassled on the job:
Styling
The easiest way to fool your boss and coworkers into thinking you have at least 5 pairs of pants is to style your one pair differently each day. Try different belts, roll them into clam diggers, or wear them inside out claiming they’re the work of an avant-garde designer in Paris who is “deconstructing the idea of pants.” It’s important to make everyone at your workplace start questioning all they thought they knew about pants as soon as possible.
The Switcheroo
This method requires a little elbow grease but it’s worth it to not have to go to TJ Maxx and spend $21 on new pants. Go to your office before anyone else gets there and switch the overhead fluorescent lights with blacklights. The pro is that your pants will look different, the con is that the blacklight will reveal their many and varied historical stains. But that’s okay, because all we’re concerned about here is throwing everyone off the scent of those old pants.
Distraction
You won’t have to change anything about your pants if you can effectively keep people from looking at them in the first place. The most effective distraction method is to wear a t-shirt with a slogan that’s extremely offensive, sad, or baffling. Maybe now when your coworkers go silent as soon as you enter the room, strenuously avoiding eye contact and/or suppressing laughter, it’ll be because of your “When In Doubt, Whip it Out” shirt and not your pants. Hey, you’ll take it!
Camouflage
After you’ve exhausted all your basic styling options, it’s time to get a little more intense. Grab a bunch of Post-Its from the supply closet and completely cover your pants. Be sure to avoid sitting down, using the bathroom, or standing near an even gently blowing fan on the days you rock this look.
Tailoring
At some point you’ll be confronted about your alarming Post-It burn rate, and that’s when you pivot to this alteration method. Cut an inch off your pants each day and save the cut off bits. When they’re as short as you’re willing to go, start sewing the pieces back on until they are full length pants again. Repeat the process again and again until either the pants or your nervous system completely break down.
Sense Manipulation
Speaking of the scent of the pants, smell is the sense most tied to memory, and your unwashed trousers send strong olfactory signals that help your coworkers recognize them on a subconscious level. Truly masking the natural pants smell is too big a job for Febreze, though. You’ll have to start gathering anal gland secretions from any of the Mustelid family of mammals (weasels, minks, badgers, etc.) during their mating season. Their musk will hopefully cause pants-confusion, and as a bonus you might end up attracting a couple of your more feral coworkers.
Hypnosis
We’re running out of easy fixes here, so today will involve hypnotizing coworkers so they won’t recognize the pants. Embed a hypnosis gif into an invitation to come to the breakroom for free bagels. When your coworkers arrive in the kitchen they will be in a susceptible hypnotic state and you’ll tell them that these pants are not the pants they’ve seen before.
Time Travel
The hypnotism had unintended consequences and now your coworkers don’t recognize any pants. They’ve started to come to work pantsless. Since you’re the only pants-wearer left in the office, you’ve been given a promotion. At first it seemed like good news, but then the boss said that you’ll have to start dressing more formally. When you asked what she meant by that she said, “wearing a different pair of pants every day.” So now you have to go back in time to undo your damage.
Gaslighting
I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to gaslight anyone because you’re a “good person” who “doesn’t do things like that.” But it’s not really your call anymore is it? The pants are in control now. Here’s what the pants are going to need you to do: ask your coworkers if they like your new pants. If they say they look just like your old pants, reply with “What old pants?” Then, crucially, “Are you okay? I’m worried about you.”
Become a God
Welp, the time travel messed things up pretty bad. You got greedy and went back to the dawn of pants to try to influence the pants future in your favor. Long story short, there have now been countless devastating Pants Wars all over the world. At this point your only option is to become omnipotent. You’ll use your power to restore pants peace, eradicate pants suffering, and make judging work pants the most serious moral crime in the universe. Amen!
CHICAGO – Local law enforcement officials reported fielding multiple noise complaints regarding punk music venue The Brine Factory from occupants of the newly opened high-end condo complex Cannery Lofts.
“I was totally fine with the loud music for the first few months. I thought it was cool to be in such a vibrant and diverse neighborhood with a thriving art scene,” said Tristin McDowell, a 26-year-old web developer and loft owner at the Cannery. “But it gets old quick. It would be polite of them to try to keep the noise down after 6… Some of us work all day and want to crush the Peloton for a bit before strapping on our VR headsets and playing Half-life all night. I paid like 900k for a one-bedroom here, I shouldn’t have to listen to some shitty band play for 40 people or whatever.”
Venue manager Tara Meed argues that the Brine Factory has been around for longer than the lofts and is part of the fabric of the neighborhood.
“No one was hanging out in the Meat Canning District before the Factory came in,” said Mead while stapling a blanket to the wall as a crude means of soundproofing. “We were one of the first businesses to open here, then all the breweries followed and suddenly this neighborhood is ‘up and coming.’ As more people started moving in the rents went up, and then a very whiny group of people started moving in. The vegan ice cream shop has gotten multiple complaints because their sign is ‘too bright’ at night.”
Few businesses from before the Brine Factory still exist in the neighborhood. Since the early seventies, Dimitri Yonoslovolous has run a small family market down the street from the venue called Beer + Lottery + Cigarettes.
“Years ago, it was only sweaty workers from factory coming into store. They buy all their groceries here. Now it’s young people looking for oat milk and, how you say, Kompooka?” said Yonoslovonous. “They are very rude. Bathroom is for employees only, but they get drunk and come in and say they have IBS and it’s illegal for me to stop them. Neighborhoods change and store owners like me must try to keep up with demand, even if I have to move hour and half outside city to afford house.”
Update: City officials have voted to rename the Meat Canning District to the Search Engine Optimization Quarter due to its heavy tech startup presence.
ORLANDO, Fla. — Disney-obsessed middle-aged man Sebastian Werner is to be tried as a minor after allegedly assaulting several guests at the happiest place on Earth, sources that regret not just going to the beach this year confirmed.
“A bunch of Twitter SJWs are saying I’m worse than ‘Maleficent,’ but they haven’t even heard my side of the story. Here’s the truth. Yes, I pushed down a kid with scoliosis, but her back brace broke her fall. And you gotta understand, I really wanted to get Gaston’s autograph,” said the unmarried and childless Werner. “You would think Gaston being a villain would have approved of my behavior, but he just looked at me with disgust, totally ruining the magic of my experience. Still, I guess I caught a lucky break with the judge deciding to treat me as a minor. Not sure why he came to that decision.”
Werner’s court-assigned defense attorney Tilly Bevan reluctantly admitted she had little sympathy for her client.
“I know I could be disbarred for this, but after seeing my client’s gaudy ‘Toy Story’ bolo tie and hearing him read a quote from the Disney Channel movie ‘Brink!’ about being a soul skater at the arraignment, I started begging the judge to lock him away in prison for the rest of his life,” said Bevan. “The crazy thing is, it was the prosecuting lawyer’s idea to try the man-child as a minor. And the judge agreed. The guy’s just that pathetic. He didn’t even seem to know he was in trouble, instead he was too busy counting down the days to his next Disney trip.”
An anonymous Disney cast member, known only as “Tigger,” noted a recent rise in crimes committed by Disney adults.
“These freaks are like roving gangs of midwestern white people, using violence and intimidation for the privilege of standing in line for 90 minutes and then paying 22 dollars for a churro,” said Tigger. “I don’t know if it’s the Florida heat or the complete lack of shame, but Disney adults need to be stopped. It’s bad enough that cast members have to deal with random groin kicks from overenthusiastic four-year-olds. But now Tinkerbells and Cinderellas are being spat on by grown men because they didn’t reciprocate their sexual advances.”
At press time, Werner has decided to represent himself in court and argue he has no memory of the alleged assault, aka the “Finding Dory” defense.
Wow! Just because Die Hard is a fictional movie doesn’t mean there isn’t a real-life John McClane out there. Check out Ted McGannon, a Denver City Police Officer who harasses his ex-wife Betty who has made it clear she wants nothing to do with him, just like Bruce Willis in his most iconic role.
Watch out, any groups of sophisticated, high-tech international thieves, as long as they happen to be near Betty, whose many complaints to her ex-husband’s superiors have been ignored!
In Die Hard, John McClane flew cross country to confront his estranged wife Bonnie Bedelia in front of all her coworkers at a Christmas party. In real life, Officer McGannon drove by his ex’s parent’s home on Christmas morning over and over again, so she knows she can never escape him, just like Alan Rickman could not escape the long arm of New York City justice.
In this case, justice is named Ted MacGannon and he uses the twice-a-month weekend visitation with his and Betty’s 11 year-old son Ted Junior as a form of control over his former spouse’s schedule. Just like John McClane, Officer MacGannon’s behavior has estranged himself from his son to the point that Ted Jr. has begun to call himself Theo just to avoid being associated with his father. That’s dedication!
Remember how Bonnie Bedelia’s scummy coworker was doing coke at the Christmas party in Nakatomi Tower? Well, Officer McGannon did one better by planting cocaine on his ex’s new boyfriend at his job, getting him fired, arrested, and held in county lock-up for 48 hours without charges being officially filed so no one could identify where he actually was.
And just like John McClane, this cop waited hours for a plane with his ex-wife on it to land, except that she didn’t know he was arriving and had a panic attack when she saw him. And even though they were in another city far from Officer MacGannon’s jurisdiction, local Police Officer Al Howard completely took him at his word and refused to intercede when the panicked Betty tried to get their assistance.
Also, Officer Howard shot a kid but still kept his job and his ability to wield a deadly weapon with no consequences.
SOMERSET, Mass. — Local cool boss Kirk Rayner chose a Cameo video from Creed singer Scott Stapp to inform his employees there will be no bonuses this year, disgruntled sources confirmed.
“This company really is like a big family. And as the boss, I am obviously the daddy. There’s also a handful of females I view as my wives, but pretty much everyone else is like my child. That’s why it pains me that I can’t afford bonuses this year. I know they’ll understand when they hear the money is going to a two-week team building event I’ll be attending by myself in the Bahamas, but I still wanted to do something nice for them,” said Rayner. “That’s why I decided to order the team a Cameo video. Maybe you can’t feed your family with a few kind words from Scott Stapp, but money is temporary. Creed is forever.”
Employees overwhelmingly agreed the video itself was painful to watch.
“It makes sense now why he sent a survey a few weeks back asking everyone their favorite musical artist. But most people must have picked Taylor Swift or something, right? There’s no fucking way we all anonymously agreed on the king of Christian butt rock, Scott Stapp. Hell, some of the Gen Z employees were still in diapers during Creed’s heyday,” said junior sales rep Shani Jenkins. “To add insult to injury, Stapp kept incorporating his own lyrics into the Cameo. Asking us if we could ‘take quarterly sales higher’ and telling us we’re each welcome to join the boss for happy hour ‘with arms wide open.’”
Despite this negative feedback, an oblivious Stapp raved about his experience working with Cameo.
“Some people think only has-beens are on the site. But if that were true, would me or Honey Boo Boo be on there? Exactly,” explained Stapp. “Sure, making a cool $50 a pop for a simple video is pretty tasty. But personally, I love being able to interact with the fans. I’m even available for in-person events. Corporate retreats, funerals, weddings, both as entertainment or as a cater waiter.”
At press time, Rayner is planning to purchase a Marky Ramone Cameo shortly before Christmas to inform roughly 20% of his employees they are being laid off.
BEACON, N.Y. — Local hardcore band Agony Undone are still hoping that after six years of relentless touring this will finally be the time they can afford one hotel room on their month-long road trip, confirmed sources inside the band.
“We’ve been super frugal on this tour and I think we’re getting close to being within range of a Best Western, or at the very least a Motel 6 that’s 50 miles outside of the city we’re playing,” said vocalist Steve Hupert. “Today all we ate were Taco Bell hot sauce packets. Hopefully we sell enough merch tonight to split a six-piece McNugget tomorrow. We’re all super hungry, our bassist Rob almost passed out during last night’s show from dehydration. But the feeling of walking into the lobby of a hotel and booking our first room will be worth the struggle.”
Agony Undone are on day twenty-six of their month-long tour supporting New York hardcore legends Chipped Teeth, who after twenty-five years as a band, still struggle to find the funds for a much sought-after hotel room on every tour.
“To this day we usually sleep in the van, but knock on wood, we haven’t had any mechanical issues on this tour so we’re getting a room tonight,” said Chipped Teeth guitarist Max Barnes. “When we told the guys in Agony Undone they thought it was the coolest thing ever. They asked if they could crash on the floor but we said no, then they asked if they could take a picture with us in front of the hotel, but we said no to that as well. This is a milestone they have to earn on their own.”
Chris Meyer, a manager of a Red Roof Inn in Agony Undone’s hometown, reports that the band has become a nuisance when they aren’t touring.
“They just hang out in the parking lot and stare at the building, take pictures, and sniff the clean towels our dedicated staff put in each room. It freaks out our guests,” said Meyer. “One of them came inside once and tried to talk to me, but he got really frazzled and ran out. I guess it’s their dream to be able to afford a room here, which is ironic because it’s my dream to never have to step foot in this place again.”
At press time, sources reported that Agony Undone had to spend all of their hotel money on a new tire for their van, after their GoFundMe campaign to cover the cost fell short.
AUSTIN, Texas — Local 22-year-old religious conservative Blake Howard revealed to a group of friends that he believed life began at “butt stuff,” sources who recommended changing the subject entirely confirmed.
“We simply must protect the sanctity of anal,” said Howard while checking the TikTok Bible community for recommendations on passages specifically referencing ass play. “I don’t know exactly how human anatomy works. That’s for God to know. But I’m positive that almost any sort of penetration will spawn life or at least be the precursor to traditional intercourse, which we all know is the OG way to get pregnant. However, one thing I know for sure is that life definitely does not begin at 69-ing. God would never allow a sexual act so difficult to achieve be the basis for reproducing human life. And believe me, I tried.”
Left-leaning friends of Howard were pretty quick to debunk his claim.
“These whackos lack any sort of logic whatsoever and this is yet another example of them not thinking anything through,” said longtime pal Paris Wayfeather while holding a copy of The New Yorker as an accessory. “Anyone with a higher education or even an Associate’s Degree in art history like me knows that life doesn’t actually begin until you’re like three or four years old, which is when you first start to form memories. Or more specifically, traumas. Until then you’re basically just a post-natal fetus that doesn’t even have a fully hardened skull. Seriously, these right-wing nuts will believe just about anything.”
Republican strategist Jacob Kassandra seemed to know exactly how the minds of people operate.
“The average American will take major leaps in logic in order to back whatever opinion our team wants them to hold true,” said Kassandra. “It’s like how we convinced our base that guns don’t actually kill people, and if anything weapons are the innocent victims in mass shootings. It’s honestly sad. They should know full well that it’s bullets that actually do all the murdering. People do too, of course. More specifically, people holding bullets in the palms of their hands are the real danger to society. Guns are totally harmless though. Next we’re working on convincing everyone that they don’t deserve their own Social Security benefits they paid into for decades.”
At press time, Howard’s conservative values led him to take a vow of butt stuff celibacy and would only perform regular sex until marriage.
Life has not gone as planned. When we were in high school we were certain we’d be a famous musician by now, about to settle down with our supportive spouse and start having a family before retiring from music on top of the world and planning our run as a senator. Well today we’re alone, the band didn’t work out, and the closest we ever got to the senate was being asked about our whereabouts on January 6th.
We keep looking back to pinpoint the moment it all went wrong. The high water mark was junior year of high school. We had just crushed the yearly talent show and promptly dumped our perfect girlfriend to prepare ourselves for the tidal wave of women who’d be throwing themselves at us until the end of time.
We need to fix our life. The obvious answer is to get our old high school girlfriend back and then everything will be solved! Unfortunately, when we sat down with her at a local Chipotle it just so happens that she turned out as awful as we did.
The Hard Times: Thanks so much for taking the time to meet with us! What have you been up to? The One That Got Away: Stealing, mostly.
Haha! You were always so funny. We miss that about you. Huh? No, I mean it’s hard to get hired in retail when all of your past employers fired you for stealing. So for me life is mostly stealing.
Oh. Umm okay. Well you were always so resourceful. And strong too. We’ve been doing great by the way. We’re actually here to casually catch up with you because things are going so well and we wanted to share that news with someone so warm and caring and beautiful. Speaking of that last thing… so uhh what happened? First of all, you aren’t looking so great yourself. You dress like you never left 2002. As for me, this is what a decade of chainsmoking and raising three kids on your own will do to you. Speaking of which, it’s cool if I smoke in here right?
You smoke in the house, don’t you? (Lights cigarette)
Hey, remember all those times you came to shows and supported our band? Those were some fun times. I guess. They weren’t nearly as fun as the semester I spent college. Nothing but cocaine and stealing people’s toothbrushes at parties.
So… any future plans? Tonight even? Not tonight but I’m spending this weekend with this aging woman who has dementia.
Oh wow! Charity work is extremely important and we’re so proud to hear you’re doing something good with your time!
I couldn’t agree more. I think if I spend a few more weekends with her I’ll be done my mandatory community service AND I think I can convince her I’m her daughter and she’ll leave me some shit when she croaks.
Yeah that checks out. It’s also super easy to get away with stealing her toothbrush.
Okay so we gotta get out of here. And since you said you’re free tonight, you wanna come with?
SOUTH HADLEY, Mass. — Freebird Rock n’ Roll Camp counselor Shea Dowd was thrilled to gather his campers around the fire to tell a rock n’ roll ghost story about a headless bass that is said to roam the grounds, according to a bunch of freaked out kids.
“We used to tell regular ghost stories,” said Dowd excitedly, “but the kids seemed bored. At some point we started focusing on rock-themed spooky stories, which worked much better. The biggest hit is the Legend of the Headless Bass. It’s about a bass player who was decapitated in a horrible accident, along with his cherished instrument. When we tell it, another counselor hiding in the woods starts playing the bassline from ‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead.’ At the climax of the story, the counselor leaps from the shadows slapping away on a headless Steinberger. The kids just lose their minds.”
Some parents like Helen White are concerned that stories like these are not appropriate for the young campers.
“I sent my daughter to the camp to learn guitar, not to be exposed to Satanism and witchcraft,” said White. “Those stories scare her. She doesn’t need all this evil nonsense, she just wants to be able to play with the country gospel group at church. I shouldn’t have ever let her go to a place associated with that devil music. I wanted to send her to the Christian Country Music Camp, but they had to close it down last year because…well, nevermind why. Rock music is bad, that’s all.”
Cultural anthropologist and folklorist Lester Guest, who has been traveling the country collecting musical ghost stories for an upcoming anthology, weighed in with their expertise.
“Each region I’ve visited has its own flavor of story,” said Guest, leafing through a dusty, leather-bound volume. “For instance, in New Orleans I found a surprising number of tales about haunted trombones. I’ve heard legends of the spirit of Bob Stinson appearing at Minneapolis’ 7th Street Entry, smashing pint glasses and detuning guitars. And In Los Angeles, many of the stories feature Darby Crash’s strung-out ghost asking for change. The Legend of the Headless Bass is a classic East Coast tale, for sure.”
As of press time, Dowd was allegedly narrating the story of a haunted house that was built on top of an ancient Line 6 burial ground.
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