Aging Punk Now Stealing from Grandma’s Medicine Cabinet Out of Necessity

Posted on by David Arriaga

MORGANTOWN, W.Va. — Local punk Buddy Freeman admitted that the pills he steals out of his grandmother’s medicine cabinet used to be for recreation, but now they are needed to treat multiple lingering injuries, confirmed sources who would pay good money for some of that stuff.

“After years of skateboarding, touring, and other stupid shit, I find the simplest tasks tiring and painful. I looked it up on WebMD and found out I have arthritis and something called ‘Train Hopper’s Knee.’ Thankfully, the pills I need are right at my fingertips every time I pay a visit to Gam Gam,” said Freeman while chasing a handful of pills with a swig of vodka. “I always thought these things were just for fun, but now I can’t even get off the couch without a couple of these bad boys. Last month Gam took a nasty spill so fingers crossed that the next batch has a little more kick.”

Despite his chronic pain, Freeman still splits all the stolen drugs 80/20 with his roommate Chris “Roach” Torres.

“This is another example of a non-working punk having to resort to stealing from his own grandmother to treat his pain, and his friends are left with almost no pills with which to get high,” said Roach while flushing last night’s regrets down the toilet. “But we have a decent system. Buddy goes to his grandma’s place once a month for dinner, takes the leftover pills, then drives her to pick up the refills. The old bat isn’t all there so I doubt she even knows what she’s missing. I cry thinking about how many of these beauties went to waste before we came along.”

Jeff Goldman, a sales rep for Plaxx Pharmaceuticals, says the current health care system is operating to gain maximum profit.

“If we gave people the exact doses they needed to treat all their problems then there would be no room for a black market,” said Goldman. “Dependency is where the profit is. The trick is people enjoy them too much and don’t notice the damage they’re doing to their bodies. Before they know it they’re in their late twenties with the joints of a geriatric patient. We charge whatever the hell we want and people will still have to pay. Oh, and don’t get me started on diabetes, that goose that lays golden eggs.”

At press time, Freeman admitted that the ADHD meds he steals from his younger cousin were miraculously helping him understand the latest season of “Westworld.”

Backyard Wrestler Sustains Lifelong Injuries for 17 YouTube Views

Posted on by Tim Graham

ALTOONA, Pa. — Gary “Konkey Dong” O’Donnelly is reportedly in stable condition after performing his most punishing stunt yet which has received less than two dozen views since it was posted on YouTube six days ago, according to younger brother and camera operator Cooper.

“I feel like I’m right on the cusp of getting the attention of the big leagues,” said O’Donnelly from his hospital bed. “This was my biggest stunt yet. I tased myself, jumped off of the roof, dropped through a burning tractor tire onto a trampoline, sailed through a plate glass window, and landed in a pile of barbed wire and fluorescent tubes. As I was flying through the air, I just kept thinking about how this video was going to blow the fuck up. Cooper uploaded it and I waited for the views to roll in, but so far, there’s only been 17. And half the views are mine. I’m assuming it’s a glitch at YouTube headquarters that will be worked out soon.”

O’Donnelly’s mother, Ruth, is fully supportive of her son’s aspirations.

“No mother dreams of spending a Tuesday night pulling thumb tacks out of their son’s rear end, but I want Gary to follow his dreams,” said Mrs. O’Donnelly as she swept bloody shards of glass from her patio. “I believe in him, and I’ll always be there to rush him to the hospital when something inevitably goes horribly wrong. What he’s doing with these videos is his art. Unfortunately, his genius might not be appreciated during his lifetime. No, I don’t think it’s hyperbole to call my son the Van Gogh of backyard wrestling, I mean he did lose most of his ear in a Pennsylvania Death Match against Marty the Mooch.”

There’s a growing need for institutions to care for those injured while striving for online attention, according to Richard Holder, director of the Shady Knoll Convalescent Home in Norman, Oklahoma.

“Our facility has a new floor dedicated solely to young people recovering from injuries sustained in the pursuit of likes and views,” said Mr. Holder. “We treat all manner of aspiring internet stars, from backyard wrestlers to mukbangers to milk crate challenge victims. Yes, we treat their physical injuries, but more importantly, we gently try to convince our patients that what they’re doing might not be worth living a short life full of pain and agony.”

At press time, a bedridden O’Donnelly was observed sketching his next stunt, a Rube Goldberg-esque series of life-threatening acts involving car batteries, a live alligator, a wasp nest, and a kiddie pool full of ghost pepper oil.

Photo by Chris Grasso.

What the Fuck: This Guy Just Called My Dead Cat a ‘Vibe’

Posted on by Matt McInerney

Everyone has someone in their friend circle that they just can’t stand, and for me, that person is Rob, a man that I can most politely describe as a walking TikTok comment. When I was at a mutual friend’s birthday party and heard “Hi, Felicia!” cut through the cacophony of the party, I knew it was him. I attempted to dive behind a couch before he could see me, but it was too late. I frantically tried to think of something I could say to shut him down as he loomed. “It’s been a rough week, Rob. My cat just died.”

“Damn Gina, that’s totally a vibe!” He responded immediately as if he had it chambered for anything I might say.

I felt my soul leave my body. I was both offended, on behalf of this dead cat that I’d made up, and also completely numb. All I could do was think back on every stupid Rob comment that led up to this.

I can remember the first time I ran into this jackass. I was stuck next to him at a friend’s dinner party. He spent the whole night talking about how “Gucci” Bridgerton was. The mashed potatoes were “savage.” And we were all forced to listen as he told his “#adulting” story about watering his succulents. He said “hashtag” out loud.

And that night at the bar. When I arrived, Rob hunted me down to tell me he’d just finished reading a “lit” Reddit thread on pickup advice. He then proceeded to hit on every woman he managed to make eye contact with. “That outfit slaps! Your shoes are on fleek! That hat is a serve!” He seemed unphased when everyone he approached had to pick up an “emergency” phone call and leave.

Even worse was that poker night. I can’t even count the number of times he yelled “YOLO” as he pushed all his chips in. It wasn’t a money game, so we dealt him back in over and over. Until we finally got tired of him and called for a final hand. Of course, that was the only time he won. Rob celebrated by squatting over his winnings and pretending to tea bag the pile while yelling “powned!”

I have so much trouble accessing the happy moments of my life, and yet every stupid word out of this asshole’s mouth is burned in my memory. So why do my friends keep inviting him places? I just can’t get this idiot out of my head. Can’t anyone else see that this man is clearly sus? …Oh no. …Oh dear god, no. It’s spreading fam.

Help: Metallica GPS Keeps Telling Me ‘So Close, No Matter How Far’ and Now I’m Lost

Posted on by Zachary Wolf

At first I thought this Metallica GPS navigation system was a good idea but boy was I wrong. Every time I think I’m near my destination it tells me, “So close, no matter how far!” and goes all crazy then reroutes me across town. I’m not from here, it’s been hours, and I don’t know where to go. Help!

Everything was okay for a while until it unexpectedly yelled “GIMME FUEL GIMME FIRE GIMME THAT WHICH I DESIRE!” It scared me so bad I nearly lost control of the wheel. Sure enough, the fuel gauge was almost on empty. I stopped to fill up and as soon as I put the nozzle into the tank the GPS loudly moaned, “Ooo YEA-HA!”

I sat back in the driver’s seat and asked the unit how far I was from my destination. It quickly replied, “Forever trust in who you are!” The sun had already started to go down and I didn’t want to have to find my way in the dark. “Hit the lights!” said the GPS.

Later it seemed like I was in some industrial area so I asked it again if we were close and this time it told me, “And the road becomes my bride!” By this point, I was tired, hungry, and annoyed. Simply put, I was over it. There was only a little daylight left and I was lost.

That was when the system screamed “BATTERY!” and the car turned off. Luckily, I was able to roll into a parking lot. I sat there for a while sipping coffee when the GPS screamed, “CAN NOT KILL THE BATTERY!” as the car jumped back to life. I spilled my coffee everywhere.

At that point, I threw the unit in the backseat and began searching for somewhere to ask for directions. Turns out the GPS directions were pretty close to my destination after all but construction had thrown it off. Right when I turned the car back on I heard James Hetfield scream, “Strangers now are his eyes through this mystery!”

Despite the faulty GPS I got where I was going. As soon as I pulled into the driveway the unit proclaimed, “I’m the one who took you there!” so I guess that means I’ve arrived at my destination.

Maybe I was a little harsh on the GPS earlier. Sure it took me all over the place with vague song lyrics instead of actual directions, was weirdly sexual about getting gas, and almost made me crash several times, but it got me here. There’s a lot of value in that.

Besides, at least it wasn’t the “St. Anger” edition.

Research Finds 73% of Plastics Found in US Landfills Are Blues Traveler CDs

Posted on by Dave McNamara

BROOK, Ind. – Research conducted at one of the nation’s largest landfill facilities showed that discarded Blues Traveler “Four” CDs make up over 70% of plastic waste.

“You can’t go three steps without crushing one of those ridiculous cartoon cats wearing sunglasses that’s on the cover of that damn album,” said Dale Pitchner, a sanitation worker at Newton County Landfill. “It’s annoying actually…they break really easily and clog up the track mechanism on the bulldozer. Every time I have to clear them out I hear that guy’s harmonica in my head and it really pisses me off.”

Frontman and harmonica maestro John Popper was not terribly happy about the research findings.

“I used to be known as the guy who passed out from jerking off thanks to our ‘Behind the Music’ episode, but now I’m famous for single-handedly causing a climate disaster. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse,” said Popper. “We were on top of the world for a couple of years. Between us and Hootie, we accounted for almost half of all Columbia House and BMG CD sales. We got booked for every Microsoft corporate event and I had my own signature tactile harmonica vest with Cabela’s. That all came to an end once ‘Run-Around’ became synonymous with the slow death of our planet.”

Climate scientist Margo Felps warned of the impending crisis facing humanity as CDs are gradually phasing out of existence.

“Blues Traveler is just the tip of the iceberg,” said Felps. “As those who listened to radio-friendly bands like these in the ‘90s start to die off there will be an unprecedented influx of old CDs that nobody wants entering the landfill systems in America. We will be completely overwhelmed, and not just with Blues Traveler. By 2055, there will be catastrophic levels of Dishwalla, Savage Garden, Sheryl Crow, and that one Red Hot Chili Peppers album with Dave Navarro. We have to think about what kind of a future we want for our children.”

Researchers announced a new initiative to counteract the effects of climate change that involves lining the polar ice caps with Blues Traveler CDs to create enough of a reflective surface to maintain the current global temperature average.

Frugal Festival Attendee Saves Money on Drugs by Hallucinating From Heatstroke

Posted on by Jessica Lillian

MESA, Ariz. — Cash-strapped music fan Cody Pauling attempted a “free” psychedelic experience at Orbital Wire Desert Fest by skipping all substances in favor of intentionally overheating himself to the point of heatstroke-induced hallucinations, alarmed onlookers noted.

“Look, just because I’m broke, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get the whole fest experience, man. I want to get dizzy until I puke and get totally tripped out,” said Pauling, trying to steady himself on a security railing during ska-electronica band Fritz Willow’s set. “And that punishing sunshine is 100% free! I don’t understand why more people don’t do this,” the severely dehydrated attendee slurred before drifting out of consciousness as the local air temperature soared to 102 degrees and his core bodily systems started to fail.

Fellow Orbital Wire Desert attendee Ben Korrigan, a close friend of Pawling, first noticed something was off weeks ago.

“When I was preparing for the fest I wanted to get some funds together to score some of the normal drugs, but Cody didn’t chip in and said he was ‘going for a natural high,’ for this year’s Orbital Wire, so I thought that maybe meant he was just sticking to weed,” Korrigan shouted over ambulance sirens. “But then we got here and he refused to drink any water or take off his three fleece hoodies or the aluminum foil thing he wrapped around his head. When he started slumping weirdly and turning bright red during The Squid Plasticities’ encore, I figured it out — he’s literally giving himself heatstroke instead of just paying me.”

Dr. Lenox Trafiglio says attempting to reach a hallucinatory state via intentional heat illness is extremely dangerous and is also unlikely to produce the desired effects.

“We understand that in tough economic times Americans often want to save money in their desperate attempts to reach an altered state of consciousness, but this is the worst idea I’ve heard since the ‘drinking hand sanitizer to get drunk’ trend,” she remarked. “And those were high schoolers, not a grown man who purchased a $279 premium festival ticket and presumably has access to fairly high-quality psychedelic substances.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but honestly, just stay hydrated and pop a [moderate serving of psychoactive psilocybin mushrooms],” Dr. Trafiglio quietly added.

At press time, Pauling, whose health insurance lapsed when he was laid off last month, was being rushed in an ambulance to the nearest hospital for life-saving care expected to cost approximately $30,000.

Help! I’ve Been Getting All My Meal Ideas From Pinterest, and Now the FBI Thinks I’m the Mason Jar Killer

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

I got sucked into one of those Pinterest rabbit holes, and fell in love with the simplicity of some of the recipes the platform had to offer. 3 ingredient brownie batter cake? Sign me up. Macro-friendly overnight oats? Pass me the Kool-Aid. Leave my entire life behind in a frantic dash as I try to raise bail because my Pinterest activity somehow landed me as the prime person of interest for the unsolved string of barbaric yet calculated murders in my region known as The Mason Jar Murders? Wasn’t expecting that one!

I live in the midwest, so forgive me if I’m late to the party on this trend, but I’ve always considered myself to be something of a home Chef, and when I recently discovered Pinterest I fell in love. Unfortunately, every single recipe wants you to put your food in a mason jar. The same kind of jar that authorities have been finding severed eyeballs and fingers in as far out as Northern Nebraska, but as close as my county line here in Kansas. I’ve never been much of a true-crime guy, so I thought nothing of it as I drove to Walmart to pick up a case.

I feel like now is a good time to mention that I’m also hypoglycemic, and the excitement of a freshly jarred yogurt parfait compounded by the lack of mason jars at my place caused me to skip out on my regular evening snack as I dashed out.

As I approached the checkout counter, I was not only pale, shaky, and experiencing the usual blurred vision, but I was also hardly able to control the volume of my voice which startled the young lady at the cash register. I also figured that since I was already at the store, I might as well pick up some other things. I grabbed a sturdy shovel so I could transplant some potted plants, and I’m a bit of a neat freak, so I grabbed some comfortable gloves.

You could imagine my horror when I realized I was unknowingly stocking up on all of The Mason Jar Killer’s usual wares, minus the hack saw.

I was also fading pretty fast, so I picked up an RC Cola, which also happens to be his drink of choice according to authorities. I guess he and I are what’s keeping them afloat.

Oddly enough, the news on the radio had the latest report on The Mason Jar Killer’s last known whereabouts, and it’s crazy… he must have just been at the same Walmart as I was! Here I am, buying mason jars to store my latest batch of mead, and they could have potentially been for The Mason Jar Killer’s next batch of teeth, toenails, and hair clippings.

It all got a little wonky when I barreled through a spike strip on the freeway and was having my face pressed in the dirt by the cops. Between that, the heat, and the blaring sirens I was feeling pretty disoriented and might have shouted out some ramblings about being the avatar of Annubis, which did not help the ole’ “clearing my name” front. I just can’t wait for this thing to blow over. I found a new recipe for beet power salad with zesty tahini dressing.

Stranger Things 5 Delayed Until US Releases Strategic Reserves of 1980s References

Posted on by Nick Ortolani

LOS ANGELES — Netflix announced that the next season of its popular, nostalgia-ridden sci-fi epic “Stranger Things” will be delayed until the United States releases its strategic reserves of 1980s references.

“The lifeblood of this show are the ‘80s references and we may have overplayed our hand. We simply can’t make the show unless we shoehorn in Galaga or some other cultural touchstone that the core of our audience has never even heard of before,” remarked Duffer Brother #1. “Without a steady supply of nostalgia, how else will we gussy up Red State America during the most disastrous political decade? We need the neon colors, side ponytails, and new wave hits. Because who wants to remember brown ashtrays in McDonald’s or faux wood-paneled trash cans? ‘Stranger Things’ only works if you retcon an era into something better than it was.”

Scarcity and price gouging surrounding these sentimental resources have prompted many to encourage government intervention.

“The US has long sat on strategic reserves of 1980s references in the event of a catastrophic culture war,” declared Heather Elliot, US Secretary to Pop Culture & Nostalgia. “It is long overdue that we begin slowly tapping into these reserves to alleviate the American people. We don’t want a return to the reference lines of the 1970s. But our position in the global pop-culture economy precludes our being reference-independent. We can’t just give these out willy-nilly, they’re not tax breaks for the rich.”

Still, there are those who warn that the world’s increased consumption of 80s references is indicative of a pending global crisis.

“This path is unsustainable,” remarked Dr. Greta Deetz, professor of Nostalgia Sciences at the University of Arizona. “Season one was powered almost entirely by one ‘80s reference, the remainder being surplus from the 1970s. As the show progresses it consumes more and more of our ‘80s memories. Kate Bush is long past the tipping point for mitigation. All of these references have an irreversible effect on our cultural climate, and if we don’t act soon our pop culture landscape will soon be uninhabitable.”

At press time, the Duffer brothers indicated that regardless of resourcing, they have no intention of filming until all of the teen actors are middle-aged enough to play high school seniors.

God Forbids Amish Metalhead to Be Anything But Drummer

Posted on by Chris Bowen

LANCASTER, Pa — Amish musician Zeke Johnson bypassed his religion’s strict restrictions on modern technology by playing drums in his metal band Barn Burners, confirmed bearded sources with antiquated beliefs.

“It’s great that I can still abide by the rules of the Ordnung while simultaneously expressing my love for early metal pioneers like Iron Maiden and Praying Mantis,” Johnson explained while suspenders obscured his TANK shirt. “I tried learning some Priest songs on an acoustic guitar, but it just wasn’t the same. Once I realized I could make my own drum kit using techniques passed down from my forefathers I was able to blast out ‘Freewheel Burning’ and it felt so good. I found some teenagers who aren’t restricted by religious doctrine from a nearby town to fill out the rest of the band and we’ve been rocking ever since.”

Allen Pool, the non-Amish guitar player who plays alongside Johnson, explained the benefits of having an Amish heavy metal drummer.

“Yeah, having a guy from a strange religious sect in the band may come off as a little gimmicky, but Zeke is one of the best drummers I’ve worked with. He has an otherworldly penchant for keeping time, and he never drinks any of my beer,” said Pool. “One downside is that when we tour, he can’t drive the van unless we hook up a couple of horses to the front bumper and have them tow it. On our first tour, we traveled with two horses in the trailer, but it was so impractical, and feeding those things took up most of our budget. He made it up to us when our jam space collapsed. He and his family raised a brand new one in like two days!”

Brother Jedediah Shoemaker objects to the heavy metal genre as a whole and the loophole Johnson has found to get around the tenets of the Amish faith.

“Well I obviously think music, in general, is the work of Satan,” Shoemaker said while filling his horse’s feedbag. “But when it comes to Zeke my hands are tied. He technically isn’t breaking any of the rules. I’ve been trying to find something in scripture damning loud noises but to no avail. But this isn’t even the worst of it! My daughter is the trumpet player in a ska band and I find it difficult to believe God is okay with that.”

At press time, Days N’ Daze were booked to play multiple dates in Amish country with no pushback.

Real Life “Stranger Things?” I Feel Like I Have Powers and My Nose Keeps Bleeding

Posted on by Dan Rice

You have seen “Stranger Things,” right? Oh my god that show is so brilliant, I mean just from a marketing standpoint, cashing in on all that peak ‘80s nostalgia through homage without having to pay a cent in royalties toward source material, plus that D&D angle drawing in those big nerd culture eyeballs man those Duffer brothers are fucking geniuses my dude and their algo is tight tight tight but I’m getting sidetracked what was I talking about? Oh! I remember yeah!

Okay so like you know how there’s that girl on the show who’s like E.T character but with X-man powers like moving things with her mind and shit right? I do that! I mean like, I think I can do that you know I just feel it, like I really feel it! I know I know you want proof right, fake news and all that well okay check this out see this blood trickling out of my left nostril? That’s from mind powers dude.

Okay fine, I’ll move that bottle of vodka over there with my mind. Let me just focus… holy shit it moved! Did you see that shit it totally fucking moved! Wait no, now everything’s moving. Okay my bad, my eye is just twitching a lot I guess.

Okay well, hang on let me try to read your mind. Pick a number between 1 and 10. Is it seven? Three? Twelve? Well, do you think I did too much cocaine? See I can totally read your mind!

Okay fine, I will admit that I have done a fair amount of cocaine, which could account for my chronic nosebleed and the manic feeling that I have superpowers right now. But you need to admit that it is equally possible that all of that cocaine elevated my consciousness and unlocked psychokinetic powers that have always been dormant inside me because I’m special!

I’m just saying, be ready for some shit to go down because the government probably has a team of people with abilities comparable to mine who can detect me. I bet there’s a whole black-ops death squad on their way here right now to abduct me and train me in the art of killing people with my mind just by looking at a photo or some shit and I need to know my scrappy friends will hold their own while I mind fight all the agents and helicopters and stuff.

Just to be safe, I think you should all buy me more cocaine. I feel my powers weakening and time is of the essence.