Vegan Covers Recording Studio Walls With Empty JUST Egg Bottles

Posted on by Tom Peters

AMHERST, Mass. — Local vegan recording engineer Tyson McNally came under fire from the audio community for covering his home studio walls with empty JUST Egg bottles, according to confused clients and friends.

“As a plant-based egg substitute, JUST Egg scrambles and fluffs like the real thing,” McNally said while hammering a nail through another freshly emptied squeeze bottle and into his studio drywall. “And their bottles are just as effective on my tracking room walls to dampen sound as regular egg cartons. Plus, JUST Egg is made using 98% less water than traditional acoustic wall treatment, and it even works for quiches. I just feel so much better knowing that my studio reduces harm to all animals out there.”

Musicians recording with McNally have attempted to explain why vegan alternatives to acoustic paneling might not be the best course of action.

“I tried telling him that it’s the irregular shape of the egg cartons that make them effective at absorbing and diffusing sound waves,” said rapper Trent Barz, who was visiting McNally’s studio to record a feature for an upcoming release. “But he just said that factory farming has no place in his studio, and if I wanted my new tracks to sound like climate catastrophe then I should go somewhere else. I didn’t even want to tell him that I’m also vegan, so I just dropped it. He has a really nice ribbon mic and he lets me pay for studio time with kitchen grease for his biodiesel station wagon.”

While there has been no evidence to support their bottles’ efficacy as acoustic paneling, representatives from JUST Egg hope other customers follow McNally’s example.

“Our protein-rich, mung-based products have been fueling creativity since our inception,” said JUST COO Melanie Christgau. “We’d like to encourage all of our customers to find alternate uses for our empty bottles, especially since that plastic is pretty much going to be around forever, and that’s honestly not been great for our environmentally-conscious image. We tried coming up with some different packaging that would biodegrade, but it didn’t react well with our product and a lot of warehouse workers ended up with chemical burns.”

McNally further confused his clients when he was seen pouring 14 pounds of Follow Your Heart shredded dairy-free cheese into a bass cab.

Review: Fit for a King “The Hell We Create”

Posted on by James Knapp

This week we reviewed Christian metalcore band Fit for a King’s latest release, “The Hell We Create,” which describes in detail a terrifying and painful afterlife that apparently awaits us all.

It’s well known that, back in 2020, Fit for a King guitarist Bobby Lynge was legally dead for eleven minutes after mistakenly ingesting bird poison which he believed was teeth whitener. After he was resuscitated, he began to describe an infernal pit of torment in which he had just spent his time while deceased and later revised into the lyrics for this record. Here are some of our favorite details about what hell is actually like:

  1. Hitler is there. Just thought we’d lead off with that fact because it’s nice to have solid confirmation of it.
  2. You are reconstituted there in whatever body you had that made you feel most insecure and dumb, then they make it worse.
  3. The only thing that isn’t on fire is your own genitals, which are actually so hot that they have reached a temperature at which flame cannot thermally exist.
  4. Apparently, Hell wasn’t even founded until 1745. It is unclear whether this was due to procrastination or if the dudes who wrote the bible just fucked up.
  5. Allen Ginsberg is always looking at you with his weird, dead, pedophilic eyes.
  6. If you were a nerd, then every bully you ever had is there. If you were a bully, then every nerd you used to beat up is there and also twice your size now.
  7. Ska is always playing somewhere in the distance so that all you can vaguely hear is the horns. It’s maddening.
  8. Billionaires get to keep their money and you have to look at it.
  9. When you think you are finally free of the eternal torment that has befallen you, say by the sweet kiss of antivenom bringing you back from your bird poison-related fatality, you are still cured with the knowledge of what awaits you in your inevitable end.
  10. Wow. Now that we think about it hell actually seems like quite a bit of a downer. What the shit, Fit for a King?! Why are you trying to bring us down? Fuck you!

Score: 1 out of 10 commandments that are fucking impossible to follow and you’re going to hell. All of you are going to hell.

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Punk Humiliated After Spotify Wrapped Reveals He Uses Spotify

Posted on by Dan Rice

NEW HAVEN, Conn. — Self-described “punk” Anthony Atomma was reportedly left feeling embarrassed and exposed yesterday when his Spotify Wrapped revealed that in the past calendar year he frequently listened to music on Spotify, confirmed multiple sources distancing themselves from the matter.

“This is humiliating on so many fronts. I guess it started as a guilty pleasure, I thought I’d grow out of it, and now I’m not sure how I can show my face in public ever again,” remarked Atomma shortly after posting his Wrapped to Instagram. “I considered keeping my Wrapped quiet, but my playlist was way too cool and eclectic not to share! My music was so much better than like 99% of the other dweebs I saw. Mine is a perfect mix of respected classics, underground darlings, bands from my local scene, and some ‘90s pop to show I have a fun side. Unfortunately, the means by which I consumed all this media is the equivalent of listening to music on Walmart.”

Atomma’s wrapped list was rounded out by Detroit Exploding, a local band fronted by Keith Gleason who makes sure to post all his band’s songs on the streaming platform.

“The only reason we made our music available on Spotify in the first place is so that we can identify which of our fans are total posers and scold them publicly. You may only listen to us on cassette, vinyl, and CD, anything else will get you banned from our shows,” said Gleason. “We will be taking the 17 cents we made in Spotify royalties and donating them to a charity with a mission statement to rid the world of fake fans and dilettantes.”

According to Spotify marketing strategist Carrie Eccleston, users like Atomma are an integral piece of the streaming service’s business model.

“Something between 30-35 percent of our subscriber base is made up of people who publicly shout about how Spotify funds military AI, and privately stream upwards of 12 hours of music a day using a free account,” said Eccleston. “Frankly we never would have made it this far without them! I thank God every morning for the lack of integrity and accountability in the modern punk scene.”

After his post generated a hail storm of negative comments, Atomma attempted to justify his Spotify use by claiming he only logs in to listen to “The Joe Rogan Experience.”

Photo by Duncan Byrnes.

My Spotify Wrapped Does Not Define My Personality Unless It Makes Me Seem Cool

Posted on by Audrey Vieira

As Spotify interns pull all-nighters compiling every song I’ve streamed this year into an infographic that will either make or break how other people perceive my music taste, it’s important to remember that my Spotify Wrapped does not define me. I am a deeply complicated individual whose taste contains multitudes. Big Tech’s attempt to simplify my listening habits into made-up genres like “indietronica,” “freak folk,” and “emo” does not reflect the person I am today. That is unless my Wrapped impresses you, in which case it totally does.

I believe in sharing my Wrapped the same way I believe in looking at my horoscope. It’s complete bullshit except for when I agree with the results. Just as all astrology is wrong unless my horoscope says our signs are compatible, Spotify Wrapped is not an accurate portrayal of my true personality unless it reflects the personality of someone with excellent taste. In that case, disregard this message and tell everyone how cool I am.

Spotify’s data-collecting habits are yet another example of how Big Tech ruins lives with false allegations. Just last year, they claimed I’m in the top 0.001% of Neutral Milk Hotel fans. Nobody should let such blatant lies distort their perception of my perfectly normal personality without being a little impressed by such underground taste.

However, being a Spotify user isn’t my whole personality. I also spend a lot of my free time wandering around record stores looking for albums that will make the cashiers say “nice picks.” Last time I went record shopping I didn’t get a compliment from the staff so I said the albums were gifts for my niece. But that lie only works so many times before people wonder why I’m buying “In The Aeroplane Over The Sea” for a six-year-old girl. Not that I like that album, but if you do, we should definitely listen to it together sometime.

Wait, you actually hate it? How dare you judge my taste so harshly when you’ve been Weezer’s number one listener for three years in a row?!

Ticketmaster Tries to Make Amends by Pointing Out There Are Plenty of Brian Setzer Orchestra Tickets Left for Sale

Posted on by Chris Bowen

NEW YORK — Ticketing sales and distributor giant Ticketmaster reminded the general public that there are still plenty of tickets available to the annual Brian Setzer Orchestra “Jingle Bell Strut” Christmas concert in Rockefeller Center, several sources who still just want Taylor Swift tickets report.

“We at Ticketmaster are deeply and truly sorry for the bizarre Taylor Swift concert ticket debacle,” said representative Richard Ballenger while sitting behind large stacks of cash on his desk. “And we feel that as a company, it is our duty to make it up to all Swifties by offering discounted tickets to the rockinest holiday party of the year! For the price of one Taylor Swift ticket, you can get 14 Brian Setzer Orchestra tickets, plus a meet-and-greet with the entire band, all 19 of them. Plus, an exclusive photo-op with Brian and Rock N’ Roll Santa Claus! How and why would anyone pass that up?!”

Longtime Taylor Swift fan Sharon Judge was caught in the crossfire of the Ticketmaster catastrophe.

“I want to see Taylor Swift for the sixth time, not some old rockabilly Eddie Cochran wannabe decorated up like a Christmas tree,” Judge explained with a clearly abrasive tone. “I waited nine and a half hours just to have them suggest I see some swing musician instead. No, no I’m not interested. In fact, I’ll never use Ticketmaster again until the next time Taylor Swift goes on tour or whenever I want to see any concert because there are simply no other ways to conveniently buy tickets online.”

Music historian Jorge Alvarez noted that this wasn’t the first time the ticketing sales conglomerate screwed the pooch.

“While the Ticketmaster ordeal was and is a huge mess, this scenario pales in comparison to what happened in the 2000s with the Britney Spears ‘Oops! I Toured Again’ concert ticket fiasco,” Alvarez explained. “The phone lines were backed up for days. Record shops had to bar their doors. Then when it came time for general public sales, much like in today’s case, there were none to be had. As a response, Ticketmaster basically slapped all Britney fans in the face by offering Hoobastank tickets to all its users. Talk about a raw deal.”

At press time, Ticketmaster tried to further outraged fans by tacking on a 10% increase on all service and handling fees associated with their tickets.

Diehard Yeah Yeah Yeahs Fan Won’t Stop Namedropping Them During Sex

Posted on by John Danek

KING OF PRUSSIA, Pa. — A devoted fan of 2000s indie rock titans Yeah Yeah Yeahs is disrupting her sex life by insisting on reciting the band’s name during moments of intimacy with her girlfriend, worried friends reported.

“I thought it was cute at first, but it’s getting really annoying. Mo keeps setting off the Alexa by screaming ‘Yeah YEAH YEEAAHS!’” stated girlfriend Nicki Lorenzo, who is more of a metalcore fan herself. “Uggh, those opening drums of ‘Gold Lion’ have ruined more than one orgasm for me. I get it—you’ve seen them like eight times. But that doesn’t make it OK to start moaning ‘Karen O, Karen O, Oh my Goddddd’ while I’m going down on you. My name is Nicki, not Karen, and this isn’t 2008. Indie’s dead anyway, as is my libido.”

Mo Renatta is seemingly unaware of the extent of her sexual namechecking proclivities.

“I don’t see what the big deal is; sometimes when things get hot and I’m feeling that fever to tell, I have no idea what words are coming out of my mouth,” admitted Renatta, who sometimes switches things up with a Clap Your Hands Say Yeah reference during a particularly satisfying climax. “This all feels pretty kinkshame-y to me. I don’t complain when Nicki says ‘fuck me.’ It’s like, wow, nice Notorious B.I.G. reference, nerd. But I will admit that I crossed a line when I smashed an egg in my bare hand all over Nicki’s bedsheets. I said I’m sorry!”

Intimacy specialists encourage couples to talk about their desires and kinks outside of a sexually charged situation.

“Not everyone can keep up with the current music scene—some people stop searching for new bands after college entirely and that doesn’t necessarily make them a pervert,” explained Dr. Lawrence Clark, a couples therapist who focuses on sexual intimacy. “Sex should be a two-way street. If one evening is themed around 2000s Pitchfork-core indie, maybe another night can be devoted to Napalm Records speed metal. Or perhaps a collaborative Spotify playlist could make things interesting. Just avoid throwing any Death Grips on there—trust me, it won’t end well.”

As of press time, Renatta and Lorenzo’s relationship abruptly ended after Renatta got a full back tattoo of Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Mosquito” album artwork.

When I Die, Bury Me Inside of Whatever Coffin Morticia and Gomez Smash In

Posted on by Kay V. Ashbury

Morticia and Gomez Addams represent the perfect foil to the stereotypical sitcom couple: they’re always proud of their children, content with their family’s weirdness, and so hopelessly obsessed with each other, ain’t no doubt they’ve funked up a couple of freaky lil’ locales with their lovemaking.

The couples from “Leave It To Beaver” and “The Waltons” probably think smashing on anything less than 600-count sheets is DefKink-1. The Addams, however, glow in the dark. In the caves of the Grand Canyon, hundreds of miles above the drowned cadavers that choke Lake Mead, one might hear the rhythmic grunting of two spooksters whose pheromones drive the cave’s native bats to vomit black liquid and thirst for human fuck juice. And that’s just on any given Tuesday.

There is no doubt that these two have engaged in some serious coffin-based genital shenanigans. A claustrophobic memento mori? One that caresses their bodies in leakproof velvet? One that, in reminding them of the imminence of death, encourages them to seize every moment of dark lust that they can?

Nut.

Imagine those two pale Adonises slowly asphyxiating, the effort of their lovemaking diminishing the oxygen of their fuck coffin as they climax to the howls of nearby wolves, the children of the night. I can think of no place more peaceful.

Listen, I am a persistently sad man. One of consistent sorrowfulness, even. The unconditional affinity these two family-centric ghouls possess is a level of love that I need hanging around my dead body after I go home to meet the Lord (of Darkness).

My soul will find rest on this or any other plane until my decaying body liquefies and intermingles with all of that concentrated love funk.

Blood-Soaked Man Desperately Explaining GWAR to Traffic Cop

Posted on by Sean Mullee

BALTIMORE — Local metalhead Matt Franklin attempted to convince a police officer that the blood and bodily fluids covering his body were due to the fact he was returning home from a particularly messy GWAR show, dispatch confirmed.

“Okay, I know how this looks, but hear me out. All this red stuff is not my victim’s blood, but rather that of a Confederate soldier reanimated by the band of interplanetary barbarians known as GWAR,” pleaded an uneasy Franklin. “So, long story short, this group of good-for-nothing Scumdogs was sent by the Master billions of years ago to conquer Earth. But, they got frozen in Antarctica, addicted to crack, and distracted by rock ‘n’ roll. And, uh, tonight, they brought Vladimir Putin out on stage – because he’s stealing their job of killing innocents – and ripped the skin off his face, which completely covered me in blood. So as you can see, this is all a big misunderstanding.”

Officer Dale Focht, who stopped Franklin for a broken tail light, was visibly stunned by the explanation of intergalactic conquerors which lead to the man getting covered in alien semen and viscera.

“Well, he claimed some kind of monster with four penises, er, enjoyed himself all over a room full of people,” said a skeptical Focht, “And that a character named ‘ballsack’ fed several ‘whores’ to a ‘world maggot.’ I figured it was best if I took him back to the station to sober up from whatever substance he was on and check if there were any missing persons reported tonight. You’d be surprised how often I get these nutcases, and how often they’re blasting terrible music when I pull them over.”

Lead howler of GWAR, Blothar the Berserker, was enraged by Franklin’s choice to submit so easily to a flimsy human cop.

“One of our slaves was apparently taken by a scum-sucking member of the Earth police. Well, why didn’t he just kill the cop and get on with it?” cried an incredulous Blothar. “That’s what Blothar–I mean I– would’ve done. I mean, Blothar, for not me personally, in case this is on the record. But regardless, this man is a pansy and a coward, and we do not forgive him of his transgression.”

Franklin was last spotted attempting to explain the life, times, and crimes of Oderus Urungus to an exhausted lieutenant of the police department before being committed to a local hospital for a mandatory 72-hour psychiatric hold.

I Moved to Florida and Achieved Wealth Beyond My Wildest Dreams by Selling Alcoholic Gator Milk to Kids!

Posted on by Yancy Lee Crawford

It’s tough being an entrepreneur with all the inflation and unnecessary food safety regulations these days. I moved from liberal Michigan to Florida, and let me tell you, the Sunshine State is a free-market utopia where industry is unimpeded by government overreach and public health regulations! And since coming to Orlando, I’ve achieved wealth beyond my wildest dreams by selling alcoholic gator milk to kids!

My business partner Roscoe Jackson and I are hungry for two things: free-market commerce and muskrats. Together, we’ve built an alcohol empire that stretches from the daycare centers of Pensacola to the middle school dances of Key West. I feed her lost dogs and possum meat, and she gives me the secret ingredient to Dave’s Gator Wine!

Roscoe’s hot, gray cream is what gives our drink its signature bubbles and masks the taste of bootleg grain alcohol.

Milking Roscoe is actually my favorite part of the brewing process. I shotgun six or seven Busch Lights, jump on Roscoe, and start squeezin’ and gropin’ and twistin’ them big, bulgy tits of hers until I fill a bucket. Then, I add some sugar, yeast, and a gallon of moonshine and leave it in the closet until it stinks to high hell.

After that, it’s easy money! I strain the chunks, drive around, and those kids come runnin’! Growin’ kids need amphibious calcium to fortify their spirit and keep ‘em on the path of the almighty! Plus, gator milk is high in bugs which is probably good for their skeleton or some shit.

Now, Google says alligators don’t have milk, but explain to me what I’ve been sellin’ to them kids in swing-top bottles and Styrofoam sippy cups for the last two years!?! Really, Google ought to ask me — a guy that kidnaps neighborhood pets, slams beer around the clock, and has an intimate working relationship with these majestic motherfuckers!

Am I illegally selling high-ABV milk to kids? Some states might say so. But this drink got my kids through third grade, and their dad is a millionaire beverage executive with vacation homes in Tallahassee AND Jacksonville! What harm could a few sips of alcoholic gator milk do? Let the kids be kids! And let the free market of children with stolen credit cards and household electronics determine the value of my product!

Free commerce! It’s what gets America — and the children of Florida — drunk!

Studies Confirm Average Punk Eats Between Five and Seven Cigarettes in Their Sleep Annually

Posted on by Matt Bieker

PHILADELPHIA — Researchers at Johns Hopkins University confirmed the average American punk consumes a half-dozen cigarettes in their sleep throughout the year, according to a recent study that has many people panicking.

“Our team had heard plenty of anecdotal evidence—people waking up on squat couches with a few darts missing from the pack, crusties nodding off at the bus station with a lit cig and waking up without it, that sort of thing,” said Dr. Anette Oberling, lead author of the study Nocturnal Carcinogen Consumption Habits in Punk Subcultures. “Only after controlling for variables like trading smokes for rides, fishing loosies out of venue ashtrays, and simple misplacement could we confirm that, in fact, some of these cigarettes are being unconsciously ingested.”

Local punks had mixed reactions when confronted with the findings.

“I don’t know, I guess it makes sense,” said Scott “Thump” Adams. “Sometimes I’ll wake up and my breath smells a little ashy or I’ll have some brown stuff in my teeth, but I always figured that came from not brushing for the past couple of years. I suppose I should be disgusted, but honestly man, a lot is coming together about some of the mornings I’ve had.”

Santa Fe Natural Tobacco Company CEO Robin Summers, which owns the American Spirit cigarette brand, was forced to issue a response.

“In light of these findings, our company would like to strongly emphasize that our product is not meant to be chewed, swallowed, or similarly consumed,” said Summers while simultaneously approving advertisements aimed at teenagers. “Eating one of our cigarettes is a poor way to enjoy the smooth, organic taste of our American-grown tobacco, especially if one is unconscious at the time. We suggest that you partake while fully alert and willing to spend more on a new pack at the bodega.”

The study’s conclusion insists more research is necessary, but also made a point of describing that a measurable percentage of the punks involved seemed to gain essential calories and nutrients from consuming the cigarettes that were otherwise missing from their diet.