Lesbian Tattoo Parlor Only Offers Celtic Knots and Dog Portraits

Posted on by Colleen Nerney

EUGENE, Ore. — Lesbian-owned tattoo parlor Rock Scissored Paper offers its dedicated clientele a variety of tattoo options as long as they are Celtic knots or dog portraits and absolutely nothing else, confirmed multiple happy customers.

“Listen, any entrepreneur will tell you that you’ve gotta find your market. I’ve run this place for fifteen years, and I quickly realized that the top designs for us–dog portraits and Celtic knots–are really our bread and butter. So we narrowed our focus and began to offer those pieces exclusively,” said business owner Cee Snyder gesturing to the framed pieces of flash on the all-black walls. “It worked. We have women from all over the Pacific Northwest drive their Subarus up to our humble shop to get their calves tattooed. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

Artist Julia “Jo” Collins offered her inside perspective and her hopes of someday expanding the shop’s artistic offerings.

“I know that the Pitbulls in flower crowns are super popular, but like, God, I won’t lie—I’m getting a little sick of doing the same few things over and over again. I did four separate Triquetras in one day last week,” Collins said while on her smoke break. “Honestly, if Cee paid any attention to Instagram, she would know that there are more trends out there for our clientele. My pipe dream is to add botanical illustrations of root vegetables to our roster. That sort of thing would absolutely crush with the University of Oregon crowd.”

Repeat client Mack Shanley expressed that some prospects, however, may feel out of place due to the limited catalog.

“I’ve been coming here a long time, and while I’ve seen plenty of regulars, there are some folks who show up and leave empty-handed,” Shanley said while getting a blackwork portrait of her dog Buffy on her shoulder. “It’s the bi women in particular who have a tough time. The flash books are so repetitive, you know? There are no watercolor Triforce tattoos or like, really long skinny swords. They all wind up going to the piercing shop down the street to get their septums done.”

Snyder was unable to be reached for further comment, as she was busy engaging in a Facebook comment war with a previous client who allegedly purchased their puppy from a breeder.

Opinion: You Can Get Pretty Fucked Up Off Non-Alcoholic Mouthwash Too

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

It started out like any other Tuesday. I was day-drinking with my usual tallboys of Bud Light Chelada with Clamato, when I realized that I was running low. The desire to continue chasing the dragon with spicy tomato and sweet clam broth was so strong that I had to venture out for another case. I ran into a problem when the liquor store around the corner was closed for their lunch break. I didn’t want to lose my buzz, so when I got home I had to quickly find a viable solution.

I ran to the medicine cabinet because I knew my girlfriend just bought a bunch of toiletries and went straight for the mouthwash. This is when I came to the most unfortunate realization: there was no alcohol in this mouthwash. Not even a sliver of a percent. But at this point, my buzz was fading, I had clams on my breath, and I knew that desperate measures would call for desperate actions. Without putting much further thought into it, I tilted my head back and started chugging. I immediately felt a surging rush of wintergreen and benzoic acid and thought I made a mistake. But get this… it started working.

It wasn’t the usual buzz I was used to, but man I definitely ended up passing out and pissing my pants. You heard it here first, guys. You can get just as zonked off non-alcoholic mouthwash as you can with the hard stuff.

I think the best part of this realization is that my girlfriend wasn’t even mad at me. I typically get way too drunk way too early and trash the place. But she said when she found me this time I was just kind of twitching in one spot, and the rest of the place was in decent shape. I apparently even got my soiled clothes into the wash during my blackout, which is another total win. Plus, she was complimenting my breath all night! I just wish my stomach could handle sudden movements because I ended up puking all over her mid-make-out sesh.

The moral of the story is that in a pinch any mouthwash will do, but you gotta make sure you’re mixing the right flavors. What I really think needs to happen is that we need to petition Big Mouthwash to make some better mixers. If we got a berry flavor in the mix on some of those new spiked seltzers, the sky should be the limit. It’d at least be better than my spearmint and clam juice beta test.

Fulfilling Lifelong Dream of Meeting Favorite Musician Results in Awkward 55-Second Conversation

Posted on by Mimi Kenny

SEATTLE — Self-described “devotee” of metal vocalist and former Dillinger Escape Plan frontman Greg Puciato, Logan Diedrich, realized his life’s ambition of meeting his idol Tuesday evening, resulting in a stilted exchange that lasted for just under a minute.

“I was so crushed when Dillinger called it quits. I saw them four times in 2010 alone,” Diedrich said. “But when I found out that [Puciato’s electronic supergroup] Black Queen was playing Neumos, I realized this was my chance to meet my hero and tell him about how much he’s meant to me. I knew I couldn’t just come across as some meathead without anything profound to say, but I also needed to play it cool, and I’m pretty sure saying basically nothing helped me accomplish that.”

Bystanders witnessed the exchange between the two and described it as “awkward,” and “confusingly fast.”

“I think Puciato was talking to his manager or something when that guy Logan sort of shuffled up behind him,” recalled Diedrich’s friend and bartender on a smoke break, Carrie Lin. “He said ‘amazing show’ then went on for like 30 seconds about seeing him at Wakestock in 2008 and then just sort of did this bizarre little wave move or something before walking away faster than I’ve ever seen a person walk in my life.”

Fan-artist relations expert Lorraine McAvoy remarked upon the commonality of such occurrences.

“While fandom bordering on dangerous obsession is quite rare, too often, fans can delude themselves into believing an encounter with their favorite artist will be a far more transcendent experience than it actually is,” McAvoy said, “Sadly, the likeliest outcome is a conversation slightly less forced than your average speed-dating encounter. And in the case of someone like Puciato, there’s only so many times you can hear about you ‘changing’ someone’s life before it all kind of just coalesces into one large bland pleasantry.”

At press time, Diedrich was uploading a photo of himself and Puciato to Instagram, captioned “Just met Greg Puciato and I am no longer the same.”

If The Weather Is So “Bipolar,” How Come It Never Wrote A Rock Opera About My Cat Then Cried For 3 Hours?

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

I am here today to talk about a false equivalency that has finally bothered me to the breaking point. Folks, the weather is not “Bipolar.” Just because you’re having trouble picking out an outfit because the dew point is inconsistent, doesn’t mean the weather has a mood disorder that sometimes requires lifestyle changes or medication. I live with bipolar disorder, so take it from me — if the weather were bipolar it would have written an epic musical about my cat and then crashed into a dark depression by now.

When you call the weather “Bipolar,” you’re making the assumption that it’s going back and forth between two extremes. Sometimes it’s just overcast and muggy which is not even extreme, just confusing. I would kill to just be “muggy” for a whole day.

You look outside, think it’s going to be cold out and throw on way too many layers, and now you’re stuck with a flannel tied around your waist like you’re auditioning for a grunge cover band. I’m pretty sure taking Lithium and reading the DSM-5 won’t solve that problem. You know what will? Opening your fucking weather app!

Better yet, I’ve never seen the weather sleep only 21 hours in a week and then say “I feel like God” before completely disappearing for a month because that’s literally never happened in the history of weather. The only time I’ve ever seen the weather chaotically disrupt a house-party, and then ghost everybody was last tornado season, but tornados are isolated incidents. And while we’re on the subject, I’ve never caught myself wishing I had brought a heavier jacket with me on a night out and thought, “this is exactly like the time I fell into my last depression and watched the entire run of Gilmore Girls in one sitting.”

All I’m saying is that you need to be a little more sensitive. There are plenty of other things to call inconsistent weather. I know you’re likening something that “ruins plans,” to my occasional shifts between delusions of grandeur and self-loathing, but even I know it’s probably not a good idea to go to the beach when there’s still snow on the ground from last week. That’s just common sense, and you need to get your shit together.

Only White Dude at Cinco De Mayo Party Hitting Piñata Little Too Hard For Everyone’s Comfort

Posted on by Jose Balderas

LOS ANGELES – Local man Salvador Gunez was alarmed and concerned following the aggressiveness with which his friend Seth Richter smashed a Cinco de Mayo party piñata earlier today, confirmed multiple party guests who plan on keeping a safe distance from Richter in the future.

“I think we were all a little taken aback at how hard Seth was swinging the broomstick. Lots of the younger kids started crying because he just looked like a maniac. We thought it was funny at first, but the way he attacked that Spongebob wearing a sombrero felt a bit personal,” said Gunez while cleaning bits of candy that were scattered across his backyard. “My girlfriend, Brooke, stepped in to stop him after he started yelling ‘die, die, die’ and ‘go back to where you came from.’ The mood definitely changed after that, but I don’t think he noticed.”

Richter connected on nearly 12 swings that loudly boomed throughout the backyard before he was stopped.

“I told everyone here that I would smash that piece of shit Spongebob to pieces and that’s exactly what I did,” said Richter while finishing a beer as he climbed into his Jeep. “Three years of playing JuCo baseball trained me with amazing hand-eye coordination. Everyone was absolutely stunned when I hammered the thing to oblivion. If you thought that was cool, what until you see me smash all the trash cans on the street with my bumper. They get launched into yards 20 feet away. It’s amazing, dude.”

Part-time bouncer, George Campos, who attended the party is not a stranger to these phenomena.

“It’s very common to see an overtly-confident white guy come into a party, bar, strip club, or generally any place where they can get some attention and ruin everyone’s day. Oddly enough it seems to ramp up during days of celebration for other people,” said Campos. “At the video game bar I work at we’ve seen a guy lose at a decent run of Pac-Man and punch the vintage cabinet’s screen. I was also a doorman at an upscale restaurant and these guys constantly tried coming in with their polos tucked into their khaki shorts which are not allowed. They would all flip out and start cursing and ruining everyone’s evening while they asked me if I knew who they were. And honestly, I didn’t, they all looked like the same guy to me.”

After the piñata was left in shambles Richter asked if anyone wanted to try to escape his triangle choke but attendants had begun to leave.

Help! Our Singer’s Between-song Joke Got a Decent Laugh and We Still Have 32 Dates Left on This Tour!

Posted on by Jay Wells L'Ecuyer

So I was tuning my guitar between “Fireworks on the Radio” and “Ayy, I’m Moshin’ Ova Here!” when I heard my singer crack a joke. He said, “Who’s ready for some hard rock?! Relax buddy, I said hard rock.” After my eyes were done rolling like a slot machine, I noticed that the hacky joke got a tepid laugh. That’s when I knew we were in trouble. He’s gonna regurgitate this gem at every single one of our next 32 dates. Help!

I think we can all agree to start giving singers something to do while we’re tuning or during soundcheck. Say “check” a few times. Maybe smoke a cigarette is raspiness is their thing. But telling jokes is absolutely not on the list. If they’re singing in a decent band then they probably have natural pitch and decent looks. These are not traits that add up to being funny.

But he got a laugh. Fuck. Now you can just tell he’s thinking, “Uh oh! I haven’t heard my own voice in like five seconds, I better fill this space with it or everyone’s gonna be sad.” They hear your fucking voice all night. If they wanted comedy, they’d be at a professional comedy show. And if they wanted your brand of humor, they’d find some shitty open mic.

He’s already been opening our set with, “Whoa, looks like those flyers we put up at the gym really paid off, you sexy motherfuckers!” I’m afraid he’s building up his own little show within the show.

I just can’t escape it. When I played in a Christian rock band (I needed the money), the singer’s between-song preaching was longer than the songs themselves. But this dude’s comedy routine is making my old singer look like the goddamn pope! I dunno, maybe I’ll just get way better at guitar and see if “Animals As Leaders” needs a fourth.

Vince Neil’s Doctor Suggests Kickstarting His Liver and Kidneys While At It

Posted on by Dave McNamara

LOS ANGELES – Local doctor Ron Diamond found cause for concern over singer Vince Neil’s latest liver function test results following decades of excess in the sex, drugs, and rock and roll lifestyle.

“The human body has a fairly miraculous filtration system,” said Dr. Diamond of Hollywood/Wilshire Health Center. “But these results were some of the most alarming I’ve seen in my twenty years of practice. Imagine that you owned a Brita pitcher for forty years, and you only poured Long Island Iced Teas into it—that’s the only thing I can conclude happened to his liver. Mr. Neil’s vital organs have more sludge build-up than the LA River in spring, so from where I’m sitting, everything in there could use some attention, at least if he wants to keep peeing normally.”

Neil declined to comment, but footage from a recent Cameo appearance may reveal the 60-year-old singer’s take on prognosis.

“Hey Chad, I hope you’re having a bitchin’ time on your 47th birthday, man. This is from Timmy, Linda, Jake, and, ah, Harley,” Neil said in the 15-second video while blending a strawberry daiquiri. “It’s awesome you made it this long, and doctors will tell you to start making ‘serious changes’ if you wanna keep celebrating, but don’t listen to what they tell you, man. You just keep partying and doing your thing, brother. Shout at the devil and, ah, keep walking on the wild side. Take care, my dude.”

Personal Assistant for Neil, Rocko Jefferies, has a long history of touring with debaucherous musicians.

“I’ve been with the Crüe since ‘Girls Girls Girls.’ Before that, I worked with Ozzy and Aerosmith. The thing is when these guys start getting up there in age, doctors are always telling them they can’t do cocaine anymore, or that ‘Perc 30s shouldn’t be loaded into a Pez dispenser,’” said Jefferies. “It makes my job really difficult. How do I tell the boss that we gotta cut out the breakfast Jäger-bombs when he’s the one writing the checks? It’s a tricky balance.”

Motley Crüe is scheduled to tour again in the summer of 2022 for re-re-reunion leading up to their official-official farewell tour, after which they will tape their “Cessation of Touring” contract back together and officially donate it to the HardRock Las Vegas for display.

Review: GWAR “The New Dark Ages”

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Everyone’s favorite interplanetary barbarian space warriors GWAR are back with their 15th studio album “The New Dark Ages” which will be accompanied by a graphic novel and tour that will likely involve showering audience members with fake and/or real blood.

It’s not every day you get an advanced copy of an album for the specific purpose of reviewing it for a major online publication. It’s also not every day you accidentally drop it down a nearby storm drain before you even get a chance to listen to it. But here we are. Yet again.

Anyway, I really needed to ace this review since I was already on thin ice with my editor after using the “advanced copy fell down storm drain” excuse when I was supposed to review the new Turnstile record last year. So I called a professional to see if I could get all my stuff back from the drain. Not just the GWAR album. I mean EVERYTHING. Including half of my record collection. My editor is still hounding me for that Turnstile review at some point. How else am I supposed to hear it?

But then I got paranoid and hung up. Like, what if the storm drain guy they sent was a huge GWAR fan and just fished out the yet-to-be-released album to take for himself? You don’t want advanced copies falling into the wrong hands. You have to handle them with absolute care.

So I shimmied my way down the drain myself to retrieve what was rightfully mine. However, something they don’t tell you about storm drains is that they’re way easier to get in than they are to get out. And there’s no cell service down there for some reason. Nationwide coverage my ass.

Long story short, on my fifth consecutive day trapped in a storm drain surviving on nothing but surprisingly refreshing stormwater, someone finally discovered me and called the authorities. The rescue took hours.

More importantly, I got back my GWAR album just in time to submit this exact review. So, you’re welcome. Turns out, the album was unexpectedly resilient under harsh circumstances. Indestructible, really.

SCORE: 10 out of 10 for durability.

/**/

New Yorker Desperate To Attribute Cum Smell To Those Weird Trees

Posted on by Tim Graham

NEW YORK CITY — Lower East Side resident Amanda Giardi is hopefully assuming that the overwhelming smell of cum surrounding her is due to those weird trees with the white flowers, sources who couldn’t agree more confirmed.

“Every time I walk out of my apartment I’m just blasted with this overwhelming stink of you-know-what,” said Giardi, of the peculiar odor that permeates her neighborhood every year when the temperature begins to rise. “People say it’s those Callery pear trees. I really hope it is, because my stomach turns at the alternative explanation. I mean, there can’t be that much jizz out there in the streets. The wet piss and steaming garbage smell makes sense, but the amount of spooge it would take to smell this strong is something I don’t want to think about.”

According to neighbor and longtime New Yorker Muriel Gelman, city dwellers need to learn to come to terms with a whole host of putrid scents.

“Foul smells are a fact of city life,” said Gelman. “Those trees are just one of many disgusting odors we New Yorkers have to try to ignore or explain away. I’ve smelled it all – number one, number two, throwup, spunk, you name it. You either get accustomed to it, or you chain-smoke wherever you’re still allowed to until you lose your sense of smell altogether like I did. It really makes living here more bearable.”

New York isn’t the only area coping with this particular olfactory offender.

“People like to blame the trees,” said Dimitri Adamos, a municipal sanitation worker in Washington, DC. “We got ‘em here, too. But there are other factors at play. You’d be surprised at just how much nut is all around you in a big city. Sometimes the storm drains are all blocked up after the weekend. Occasionally, we gotta go down there in waders and kick a huge plug of jammed up rubbers through the outflow pipe.”

“As for the smell,” continued Adamos, “I think it’s always there, but people only notice it when the weather gets warmer and they start going outside more. Do the trees smell? Yeah, they’re kind of gross. But don’t forget about all that goo. That’s a big part of it.”

At press time, Giardi was already looking forward to blaming another nauseating odor on a species of shrub that smells exactly like diarrhea, which begins flowering in mid-summer.

Girl on Boyfriend’s Shoulders Inducted Into Rock And Roll Hall of Fame

Posted on by Mark Roebuck

CLEVELAND —  An intoxicated woman sitting atop her boyfriend’s shoulders will be the first non-musical act inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of the 2022 class, Hall officials confirmed.

“What a great addition to the Hall they are gonna be,” said Rock and Roll Hall of Fame President Greg Harris. “Sure, Dick Dale isn’t in yet, but we’ll get to him. Nothing exemplifies the spirit of rock’n’roll like an obnoxious, drunk person blocking your view and screaming louder than the act. Frankly, I’m surprised we didn’t get them in there sooner.”

The woman, Dawn Cramer, has been a fixture of most concerts in the Columbus, Ohio area for the last several decades, kicking off her legendary run of concert inebriation at Motley Crue’s “Dr. Feelgood” world tour in 1989.  

“Yeah! Fuck yeah. Wooooooooo,” said Cramer, when told of her designation as a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer. “That’s so fucking cool. Hey, do they have a beer tent at this thing, or should I sneak a bag of wine under my shirt?”

For her live performance at the induction ceremony, Cramer surprised fans by reuniting with her original concert companion — her high school sweetheart, David Melvin — to watch the other inductees from the wings of the stage.

“I can’t believe they got them back together. I heard he hurt his back working as a roofer back in ’97, and people thought he would never lift again,” said longtime fan Dwight McKinnon. “Not to mention the Sponge incident at Lollapalooza that broke them up to begin with. Did you see the way she threw up all over herself during the intro of ‘Money for Nothing,’ though, and he still kept her up straight while shielding his eyes? They still got it! What an amazing performance.”

The duo have since denied rumors that the reconciliation will be a permanent one, as Melvin is happily married, while Cramer has “…a bunch of fuckin’ court dates coming up.”

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