ASMR Isn’t Sexual for Most People, but Thank Fucking God It Is for Me

Posted on by Jus Kaplan

Not everyone experiences autonomous sensory meridian response, or ASMR, the tingly brain sensation triggered by everything from whispering and crunching noises to the clacking sounds of a mechanical keyboard. But most who do will emphasize that the experience, though pleasurable, is not at all sexual. That’s why I’m so fucking lucky that it is definitely sexual for me.

Like, 100% sexual. There’s no other way to describe it. My brain interprets ASMR as pure carnal pleasure and I’m truly grateful for this gift.

I first learned I was special while watching a grainy clip of Bob Ross painting a forest scene full of evergreens. While many will tell you his how-to videos and soft-spoken voice help ease them to sleep, it did the exact opposite for me. Every stroke of his brush just got me more and more in the mood to “stroke” if you know what I mean, which you do.

Things really heated up when he took out his painting knife and started gently scraping the canvas to create the beautiful forms of distant mountaintops. When Bob unexpectedly smeared the paint and said his trademark phrase “happy little accidents,” I experienced a soul-shattering orgasm that no sexual partner has ever been able to match.

Soon, I moved on to watching hardcore ASMR videos. Like people with strong accents carving soap while whispering an account of the history of feudal European societies. Witnessing an 83-year-old Liverpudlian slowly hack away hunks of a Dove bar with a rusty blade is pure erotic ecstasy and sends me into a tantric, toe-curling tizzy.

Eventually, I started paying people on the internet for custom ASMR content. Admittedly, this lifestyle has become expensive. Now when I need to get off, the only thing that can get me there is putting on a $500 pair of noise-canceling Sennheiser headphones and listening to hours of someone rubbing an $800 microphone with makeup brushes, bubble wrap, and slime.

Honestly, I don’t really care what my wife, my bank statement, or the divorce lawyer says that this incredible feeling isn’t worth chasing. It’s a goddamn blessing to be different!

Review: Nails “Unsilent Death”

Posted on by Mimi Kenny

Our commitment to reviewing every album under the sun is unwavering. This week we review the Nails album “Unsilent Death” so you can ignore any other reviews about it that might exist.

Want to give someone a crash course in powerviolence that will leave them feeling bruised, bleeding, and eager for more? Just show them “Unsilent Death” and check in 14 minutes later. Every second of Nails’ ferocious debut feels designed to get under your skin and fester into the most horrific infection, one that would reject even the strongest of antibiotics. More than a decade since its release, it still thrills and frightens in equal measure.

It also makes me wonder why Kurt Ballou hasn’t responded to our request for him to engineer our album.

Ballou is a pretty major factor in why “Unsilent Death” is so good. And it’s no surprise. Whether with his legendary mathcore band Converge or any number of other artists, Ballou knows how to take the most intense sounds and somehow make them even more so.

So, how do we get in on this?

I’m not being presumptuous or anything. I get that he’s busy and probably gets, like, 100 demos sent to him a week. But I first messaged him four months ago and followed up last week. Nothing. I even referred to him as “Mr. Ballou” and mentioned The Huguenots. I don’t know what else I could do.

I described our attached demo as being like a mix of Full of Hell and The Locust. There’s no way that turned him off, right? It’s only seven minutes long. So, it’s not like we’re asking for too much.

We’re not just blowing smoke, either. We’ve been paying our dues in the Santa Fe underground scene for a while now. We’re ready for that next level. And frankly, Kurt’s ready for us. Not many other producers could handle our vigor. He could.

And we’re eager to hear his ideas! Nails probably came out of GodCity Studio a much better band than when they came in. Kurt Ballou albums just have a level of quality control that can’t be faked.

Ah, well. Maybe he’ll eventually come around and reply enthusiastically about producing the next Scrotum Scab album. If not, his loss.

Score: 5 out of 5 thundering blast beats and guitars that sound like chainsaws in a trash compactor.

Man Outgrows Band Emotionally, Band T-Shirt Physically

Posted on by Tom Peters

SUNNYSIDE, N.Y. — 37-year-old former punk Colson Rankford reportedly retired his favorite medium-sized band T-shirt citing newfound maturity and downplaying his slowed-down metabolism, relieved sources confirmed.

“This band and their music will always represent a very special time in my life. I put them on mix CDs for old girlfriends and I’d wear this shirt to every show I went to,” said Rankford, referring to the Urinal Hockey shirt he purchased after their Warped Tour set in 2005. “But I’ve grown as a person since then, songs about breakups and shitty hometowns don’t do it for me anymore. And yeah, it just so happens that the shirt is a little more snug than it used to be, but that’s completely unrelated to my broad new musical tastes. Pop-punk is just too constricting for me now.”

Despite claims to the contrary, coworker Brian Hatch believes Rankford’s outsized physique to be a major factor in his decision to let the band shirt go.

“He claims to be more ‘mature’ now but he hasn’t listened to any music released after 2008. The truth is that shirt was getting to be more corset than shirt. I thought I was going to have to cut him out of it like an EMT when he wore it on casual Friday a few months back,” said Hatch. “It got to the point where he couldn’t lift a hand above his head without the shirt snapping up over his belly like a broken projector screen, and it had to have been cutting off his circulation. When your hands are turning purple, it’s time to stop clinging to your youth.”

Carmen Ogden, the thrift store employee who received Rankford’s donation, recalled the bittersweet midlife rite-of-passage.

“He really wanted me to appreciate the significance of the moment, but we actually have a whole section for band shirts that older guys have attempted to ‘pass down.’ There’s even a makeshift bereavement lounge over by the furniture where they can collect themselves,” said Ogden. “Sometimes kids buy the shirts ironically, but they’re mostly there for other old dudes to look at before heading to the register with an armload of flannels; it’s kind of a service we provide.”

At press time, Rankford was ordering an XL t-shirt from the Urinal Hockey frontman’s new alt-country acoustic solo project.

Tragic: Ex’s Friend Thinks You’re Still Friends

Posted on by John Danek

SAN DIMAS, Calif. — Local delusional man Scott Marin thinks you and he still have a friendship despite you dumping his close friend Rosa Levinson months ago.

“It’s so weird. It was a messy, dragged-out breakup, yet dipshit-ass Scott over here is still sending me memes every day as if our entire friendship wasn’t one big social sham that ended the minute I said Rosa and I should see other people,” said you, who has really started turning your life around after the breakup. “Rosa and I had weeks of fights and hard, emotional conversations. It got ugly! And Scott is tight with Rosa so he clearly knows this. But he keeps sending me pictures of Santana with the guitar Photoshopped out to be a fish, or videos of people falling off rope swings. Leave me alone already. The breakup was hard enough.”

Marin appeared to be oblivious to the social fractures caused by the breakup.

“It’s such a bummer that they couldn’t make it work but the way I see it, I end up with two friends now,” said Marin, who similarly doesn’t realize that he shouldn’t talk to coworkers about his pornography preferences. “My birthday party is coming up in a few weeks, and I’m looking forward to seeing both of them there. I bet they’ll be on great terms by then. You know that old saying, ‘Once you say Hi!, we’re friends for life.’”

Relationship experts admit that the effects of a breakup on the wider friend circle can vary wildly from person to person.

“Breakups can be confusing, cataclysmic events for not only the couple but also their family and friends,” stated Dr. Eileen Ross, relationship therapist in San Dimas. “But sometimes you get these weirdos who have a total inability to read the room and see where the lines in the sand are drawn. These morons think that they genuinely are pals with their friend’s beau. Nope, it’s a relationship of convenience and necessity. And when it all comes crashing down, all ties should be cut immediately.”

Marin continued to confuse the hell out of those around him by announcing plans to spend Thanksgiving at his dad’s second ex-wife’s house.

I’m Only Swiping for Your Dog, Because I Am Going To Have Sex With Your Dog

Posted on by John Danek

Hi, I’m Andrea, 28, and if I’m being honest, I’m only swiping for your dog lol!

Take me on an adventure! I love to explore and go on road trips while blasting music. My favorite album of all time is the Pants version of blink-182’s Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. Especially the deep cuts.

Some nights I like to just stay in, open a bottle of wine, and watch Netflix until it’s way too late. My favorite shows are Scooby-Doo, Hudson & Rex, and the Disney+ Turner & Hooch remake. Good vibes only!

But seriously, tell me more about your dog. It’s not one of those little yippie, tiny pups, right? I prefer a heartier, more masculine kind of dog. Pitbull? German Shepherd? Rottweiler?

Ok, you might be picking up on a theme here. I’m going to cut to the chase. I have minimal interest in dating you. But I do have substantial interest in having sex with your dog. Or should I say, “making love.”

I will obtain consent! I’m not some sexual deviant who goes around forcing myself on dogs. That would be kinda fucked up. My dog medium is an expert and really knows how to get consent via the proper channels. “No” means “no” and I totally respect that. Hell, I’ve been turned down more times than I’ve been approved. Do you know what it’s like to be rejected by a dog? Fucking brutal.

I pay well! Like, really well. This is my only hobby. I loathe hiking and all that shit. But to keep up appearances, we should at least act like we’re dating. It’s just easier that way.

Full disclosure- I am wanted in 9 states and commonwealths. The U.S. judicial system just doesn’t understand anything beyond the narrow worldview of the white supremacist Christian founding fathers. So when we go “adventuring” together, let’s keep it on the west coast. Those Mid-Atlantic types are a bunch of strict Puritans. How does your dog do in the car?

I’m not looking for any drama. So if you’re thinking about squealing to the feds, I’ll end you.

And FYI I’m really into bourbon and Taco Tuesday.

We Moved Out to the Country To Eat Free Peaches and It Turns Out a Lot of Peach Farmers Have Guns and the Peaches Aren’t Free

Posted on by Stephen Bell

Having grown discontent with the drudgery of modern-day life we decided to move out to the country to eat a lot of peaches. And yes while there were millions of peaches present, as the farmer’s shotgun informed me, they were never free or for me.

Those peaches were put there by a man, and that man had clearly killed before, and I was terrified.

Stealing said peaches were apparently against the law and I found myself soon evading the 5-0 in some sort of Dukes of Hazard-style chase.

With the country no longer being a viable option, I tried going to the factory downtown to get some peaches. Naturally, I preferred fresh peaches but I’ll take canned ones if available. Pie is my favorite way to eat them. Except those bastards wouldn’t let me in because of some bullshit about ‘employees only’. When I, an able-bodied man, offered to put them into cans, they rejected my application. It turns out they’d been tipped off about a wanted peach thief and I found myself running again.

I sat alone in a buggy marsh, day after day waiting for the heat to cool off, but the law caught up with me eventually.

I’d say we need to impeach the PsOTUS if they hadn’t broken up already. Now if I had my little way, I would sue them everyday, for enough money to actually support my dream of eating peaches in the shade amongst the twisted roots of my favorite tree. Instead, I got a cop poking his finger up inside my butthole during this cavity search to make sure I’m not hiding any peaches up there. Nature’s candy in my butt.

My love of peaches has now gone completely rotten and I feel squished by the system. Hopefully once I get out of jail though I can start a fresh new life in a land of opportunity. I was thinking about Cleveland because I heard a song once telling me Cleveland rocks.

Black Metal Band Photo Clearly Taken Inside Walk-In Cooler

Posted on by Chris Bowen

MESA, Ariz. — Black metal band Christrot took a band promo photo in what is obviously a restaurant storage cooler in order to emulate the cold, frosty atmosphere typical bands of the genre often have, sources report.

“The frosty, wintery image of typical bands is a tradition we strive to maintain,” frontman Byron “Blürt” Weiler explained while tightening up his forearm gauntlet. “And here in Arizona, it’s difficult to get away from the heat and sun so when it comes to promo pics, we gotta improvise. It just so happens that the best way to do so is to snap a few pics posing in convenient store beer caves, or restaurant stock coolers. With a little creativity and photoshop, you can easily brush out the slabs of frozen spare ribs or boxes of Old Milwaukee and the true kvlt fans are none the wiser.”

Aariz Arif, owner of the Shawarma Stop restaurant, details his history of having to deal with the nuisance of corpse painted scofflaws in his business.

“As if keeping the rats out of my kitchen wasn’t bad enough, I have these goons wearing panda bear face paint sneaking into my storage cooler to take goofy pictures,” Arif stated. “While I haven’t actually caught them in the act, I know for a fact they go in there because they leave traces of evidence behind. Once I saw black and white handprints all over a box of frozen beef I had laying on the floor. I’ve been told crosses and possibly garlic would keep them away, but to no avail. People are starting to talk, and no exterminator I’ve contacted will take care of the problem.”

Black metal scene veteran Nargül uses some of his knowledge and expertise on the scene to weigh in on the bizarre incident.

“There is a history of bands having difficulties maintaining the kvlt black metal imagery,” Nargül said while sipping on a goblet of wine. “Sometimes the climate just doesn’t cooperate and bands need to compensate for that. In fact, the cover photo for Immortal’s ‘Sons of Northern Darkness’ was taken in a pinch during a L.A. tour date inside the walk-in cooler of a Boston Market’s kitchen. The icon cover of Darkthrone’s ‘Transilvanian Hunger’? That was taken inside the ice cream section of a Citgo during an unusually hot summer in Norway. That’s actually chocolate syrup on his face.”

During press time, it was noted an unusually cold Arizona frost brought out droves of skinny guys in corpse paint to local cemeteries to get some quick pics in before quickly warming up again.

Alex Jones Alleges Sandy Hook Defamation Trial Never Happened

Posted on by Bobby Korec

AUSTIN, Texas — America’s premier far-right conspiracy theorist Alex Jones alleged that the Sandy Hook defamation trial, for which he paid $45 million in punitive damages, never actually happened, sources who didn’t know whether to laugh or cry confirmed.

“The whole thing was clearly a hoax meant to distract the general public from what’s really important, like the reporting we do on InfoWars and non-FDA-approved supplements I sell in my online store,” said Jones before rattling off other major events in US history he claimed never occurred. “If anything, the trial was staged by the deep state. I mean, the judge was clearly paid by the government and the jury looked like they consisted of randomly selected people they picked up off the street. Hell, even the guy they got to play me in court looked nothing like me, he was fucking huge. The government is going to have to do a lot better than that to fool my audience. Or at least have George Soros hire more talented actors for these publicity stunts.”

Mark Bankston, prosecuting lawyer for the Sandy Hook defamation case, couldn’t believe that Jones continued to make these claims.

“That guy knows full well the trial occurred, and all he has to do is look at his dwindling bank account to confirm the verdict,” said Bankston. “Also, Alex’s lawyer just so happened to accidentally send me a complete digital copy of all of his text messages where he confesses to knowing that the trial happened. Alex really needs to get himself a new lawyer, or at least a burner phone.”

Psychologist Kathy Bridgemont has long studied the behaviors of conspiracy theorists.

“These nut jobs will say just about anything if they think it’ll somehow make them money,” said Bridgemont. “They’ll even wield the First Amendment like it was written for them personally. But you can’t shout ‘fire’ in a crowded theater, and you definitely can’t yell ‘horrific mass shooting that claimed the lives of innocent children never actually happened’ to an audience desperate to accept any conspiracy that fits their already existing beliefs.”

In related news, members of the herpetology community filed a lawsuit against Jones regarding his false statements about the governement using chemicals to turn frogs gay.

How the Fuck Can You Always Afford That Much Cocaine on a Chef’s Salary?

Posted on by James Knapp

Seriously? You work part-time at Uptown Gourmet Hotdog Shoppe and yet I know for a goddamn fact you’re on your third eight ball this month. How the fuck can always afford this much fucking coke?

I mean, I’m not trying to complain here. You always hook me up with a bump when I ask for one you never even ask for a little cash or a quick tug job to call it even. But in a way, that kind of makes it all the more suspect.

I know you think you think you’re fucking Anthony Bourdain or some shit but you do still have rent to pay, right? Are you getting this shit on loan or is it industry connections that are doing this for you?

The other week you were too hungover to even go to work, and yet every night we were both doing full rails off the asses of strippers. By the way, thanks for that. But also, how the fuck did you pull that off? You tipped them all really well too and, while that’s very generous of you, I know for a fact that the service industry is not enough to support that kind of lifestyle.

Do you have a wealthy family member you haven’t introduced me to? Do they know you’re spending all their money on blow? Wait, are they El Chapo?!

Look before you respond with some cheeky “you don’t wanna know,” let me tell you, I’ve thought about it. And I fucking need to know.

I don’t know what’s weirder: that you always have coke or that it’s always really good coke. Like, there’s no way that the shit you get isn’t more expensive than luxury cars and some forms of boat. The last time you gave me a key bump of the stuff I was up for four days and I recorded eleven EDM albums. It was horrible!

Well, however you’re doing it, good luck I guess. Wait, have I been talking this whole time? Let me get another line quick here.

Not All Cops: Some of Them Rip Their Clothes off and Dance Around for Money

Posted on by Dan Rice

I know this isn’t a popular thing to say nowadays, but not all cops. Sure, some deplorable behavior has come to light in recent years, and the thugs on the force responsible for those actions should be held accountable But to let their actions completely stain police as a whole is to overlook the hard work of those boys in blue who just want to rip off their shirts and get this party started.

Let me tell you about officer Rob. One night I found myself at a swinging all-night party with plenty of action to be had. I was just there to have a good time, but then, the unthinkable happened — I was not horny at all. I don’t know if it was coke dick or too much whisky, but I was scared. That’s when officer Rob came onto the scene.

He approached the hostess with a calm but authoritative stride. Evidently, there had been a complaint made against her. The complaint? “Being too sexy.” In a flash, his clothes were gone, and the chiseled, glistening body that remained had me rock hard in seconds. Later, as Rob collected his money off the ground, Bobby Bown’s “My Prerogative” still fading out in the distance, I walked up to him and thanked him. Know what he said to me? “Just doing my job.”

That night I made love to a set of twin Norwegian girls and a Japanese businessman. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Rob and thank God he was there that night.

I understand that not every cop in the world will rip off their clothes and gyrate their hips to titillate us for singles. And yes, those cops are a cartel of murderous racist scum who should be wiped from the earth. What I don’t understand is why we’re only focusing on those cops. Frankly, the second that tight blue button-up rips against a set of bulging pecs, I find it hard to focus on anything else!

Maybe you should think twice next time you want to call one of these oiled Adonises a “pig,” unless of course, you’re referring to the giant hog barely contained by their cheetah print banana hammocks, in which case, go ham!

Sure, there are some bad apples out there ruining the bunch. One time I was at a Jack & Jill party, and a cop ripped his clothes off to reveal a bad Rick and Morty tattoo and, like, no 6-pack. Not cool officer Hardbody. Another time a police officer drew a gun on my Dominican friend for having a busted tail light. Not cool officer Hardbody. But on the whole, police are good honest people just trying to do their job — keeping things sexy.