Help! My Dad Accidentally Threw Away My Birth Certificate but Somehow Still Has the Owner’s Manual to Our DVD Player

Posted on by Lauren Sewell

Yesterday I woke up to a missed call and voicemail from my dad. He said, “Son, I got something important to tell you. Call me back.” I was ready for him to tell me that either some relative had died or that he needed me to reset the password for our family’s Hulu account. But I soon learned the reality was much worse than I could have ever imagined.

See, my dad was very proud of his tidying work. But apparently not of his child. He called me to sheepishly admit that during his most recent spring cleaning, he accidentally threw away my birth certificate. Now you can imagine the blow my ego suffered. My mind was spinning, realizing the logistical and bureaucratic challenges I would face without a key document that confirmed my existence in this godforsaken world. Even more so when he excitedly revealed to me that he managed to find the owner’s manual for the family DVD player.

He told me this information as if it was some sort of silver lining that should console me. I don’t think he even has the DVD player anymore, but I’m sure if he finds it, I’ll be the first to know. Apparently knowing how to care for a 2003 Toshiba SD-1200 is more important than the physical documentation of my existence.

This may have hurt my pride, but it was nothing compared to the time he called me to let me know all of my childhood photos were misplaced but that I could rest assured knowing his TV guide collection was intact.

Top Five Southern Rock Songs to Listen to While You Complain About Participation Trophies

Posted on by Ryan Danley

I remember when this country had a pair! When I was growing up we didn’t have all the crybabies doing the tweets or the instergram. We had people who knew their worth and fell in a line. And mostly we didn’t have any participation trophies!

That’s right! You can totally pinpoint the fall of the American empire the day someone was handed a trophy for doing nothing more than showing up. Well, unlike some of these pansies out here I’m not going to stand idly by and watch this great nation fall into some nanny state! I’m gonna complain my ass off, and I’m going to rock while I do it!

Here are the best songs ever made to play in the background while you give them a good dosage of Hard Knocks:

That Smell- Lynyrd Skynyrd
I’ve never been able to pinpoint what smell American hero Ronnie Van Sant was actually talking about, but I’d like to imagine it was the stench of a piss-poor 8-year-old goalie not earning their season-end pizza party.

Dreams I’ll Never See – Molly Hatchet
The dream you’ll never see? Being able to drop a 350 engine into a ‘74 Chevy Nova. Because you’ve never learned to accomplish anything.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia – Charlie Daniels Band
Little known fact: The Devil went to Georgia to try to spread Socialism.

Ramblin’ Man – Allman Brothers Band
Do you think someone who was born in the back of a Greyhound bus wants orange slices when they just watched the kids from across town score two unanswered goals? I don’t think so pal!

Free Bird- Lynyrd Skynyrd
Yep, Lynyrd Skynyrd again. Listen, I may have been born in 1996, but I know a good damn band when I hear it. And Skynyrd represented all that is right in this world. And this song is the Holy Grail. It’s about freedom. Freedom from the bondage of celebrated failure for rec league sports. If you could drag their tattered corpses out of that plane crash, the first thing this band would tell you is they want to do this themselves.

God Bless America.

Deadhead Father Sits Patiently Through Millennial Daughter’s Story About Time She Ate Two Weed Cookies at Animal Collective Show

Posted on by Mimi Kenny

DALY CITY, Calif. — Paul “Sprout Fingers” Brecher, a devoted follower of legendary rock band The Grateful Dead, did his best to appear interested in his daughter’s anecdote about eating two marijuana cookies at an Animal Collective concert in 2012, confirmed multiple sources who wish they had some nitrous.

“We were at dinner, talking about how much we liked that ‘Everything Everywhere’ movie, and when her mom mentioned how vivid everything felt, Heather just got this glint in her eye,” said Brecher. “Pretty soon, she was talking about her first time with edibles and not realizing how hard they would hit. She said she felt ‘untethered to earthly expectations’ and ‘like [her] vision was 25/20.’ I was eager to hear about any other epiphanies she may have experienced but it mostly seems like it just made the music sound slightly better. It took all of my self-control to not mention I spent almost 27 years in a drug-induced fog thanks to the Dead and the perspective-shattering psychedelic experiences I felt watching them play.”

Daniels herself recalls the day in question with a great sense of wonder.

“My buddy Clark made a whole bunch of these cookies for the show at Terminal 5. I hadn’t seen AnCo and I knew I would need to make it a really meaningful experience. So, I ate two like 10 minutes apart from one another and everyone was like ‘whoa, Heather, strap in. You’re in for the ride of your life,” said Daniels. “I was pretty chilled out at first, but then ‘Lion in a Coma’ started and my arms refused to stay down. At that point, I was no longer just hearing the music; I was basking in it.”

Dr. Keith Lawrence, ethnomusicologist and author of “Losing Some Determination: The Decline of Psychedelic Enlightenment,” says Brecher’s recent experience mirrors that of many so-called “Deadheads” underwhelmed by their children’s recounting of hallucinogenic experiences.

“When you grow up with a parent who can say they took peyote at Dream Bowl in 1969 and saw Jerry Garcia shrouded in a haze described only as ‘the totality of conscious awareness,’ you have a lot to live up to,” said Dr. Lawrence. “And feeling a little loopy for a few hours while some guy in a baseball cap hollers about his breakfast or whatever doesn’t exactly measure up. It’s why Boomers have no respect for Millennials and make every effort to ruin the future for them.”

Following Daniels’ recounting, visiting cousin and Amherst College sophomore Jackson Sigritz chimed in about hitting a dab pen at a Tame Impala show and “almost crying during ‘Let It Happen.’”

35-Year-Old Man Finally Builds Up Immunity to New Music

Posted on by John Danek

BILLINGS, Mont. — Former music obsessive Paul Yarborough finally achieved bodily immunity to the intoxicating effects of new music following years of detachment and apathy, researchers marveled.

“Music used to have so much control over my life, it controlled my personality, my calendar, and what people I chose to be friends with. But I’m so thankful I can confidently say those days are over,” stated Yarborough, who would often fly to attend multiple music festivals per year. “Not long after turning 35, I started getting more into podcasts. I let my Spotify Premium subscription expire because I just wasn’t using it. When I do listen to music, it’s always something I once owned on CD and it was definitely released before 2008. But even with those bands, the desire to lightly headbang has evaporated. All is calm. Finally.”

Musical artists who rely on diehard fandom such as Yarborough’s are struggling with the losses of an aging audience.

“Paul used to be the first to like and comment on all of our social media posts, but now he unfollowed the band entirely!” said a shocked Renee Askowitz, frontwoman of Yarborough’s former favorite punk band Happy Go Unlucky. “Anytime we played around Montana, Wisconsin, or the Dakotas, he’d be there right up front, singing along. But no more, I didn’t see him once on our last leg through there, we even drove by his house, but I was too afraid to go knock on his door. I miss him. And I miss how much money he spent at our merch table. What did I do wrong, Paul? Was our new record too fast? I’m so, so sorry.”

Immunologists have begun researching the effects that age may have on receptiveness towards auditory stimuli.

“It appears to take almost 4 decades before the human body can start creating enough antibodies to deflect the intoxicating qualities of new music,” explained Dr. Miroslav Funkel, head of immunology research at Montana State University. “Music’s effects on the body and mind can be treacherous, it can cause fans to spend exorbitant amounts of money and also lead to spending prolonged periods of time in filthy, unsafe basements. We are currently working to develop treatments which will allow for inoculation against music at earlier ages, possibly as early as the late teens.”

Yarborough’s immunity has reportedly reached a new level of strength, as he is finally selling all of his guitars, amps, and pedals on Reverb.

+30 Button On Microwave Finally Gives Out

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

PROVIDENCE, R.I. – Local punk household, “The Underground Failroad,” is grieving for their microwave, which is considered “no longer functional” after the +30 button gave out, sources with frozen Hot Pockets confirmed.

“I gotta say, I’m disappointed, but not surprised at all,” said resident Brea Stokes, as she reached for her reading glasses and an instruction manual that was shoved in the junk drawer. “But I’m hopeful. This thing says there are all sorts of power settings that you could use to warm up your food! Normally I would just mash the +30 button into complete submission until I knew for certain that I’d burn the ever-living shit out of my mouth. Who knew that it had a clock too! I dunno, I’m feeling better and better about this whole new world of potential!”

Longtime couchmate Larry McCall doesn’t share the same sentiment as Stokes, and demands that the microwave be replaced immediately.

“Brea is a lot more pragmatic than the rest of us, and it’s to a fault. She’s got a brain that’s on a whole ‘nother level, and that’s fine, but the rest of us depend on that +30 button,” said McCall while thawing a bag of french fries in the sun. “I only eat when completely swerving my tits off on edibles and whatever alcohol is left over from the night before, and I’m not about to hit ‘time cook, three, zero, start,’ and repeat the entire process over and over again until the entire frozen lasagna is done. That one single button is what’s holding this entire household together, and it either gets fixed, or I’m outta here.”

Area electronics expert Shawn Daggz says that this problem is a lot more common than one would think.

“It’s not out of the ordinary for a perfectly good microwave to end up in a landfill, or worse the ocean, over a malfunctioning +30 button,” said Daggz. “You can try your best to educate your roommates on how to defrost and use the various power cycles, but the sad reality is that the cycle of abuse we see will continue so long as the +30 option is available to the general public. It’s only natural for us to lean on our crutches until they break, and it’s the reality we have to live with.”

At press time, McCall was seen quietly sobbing while trying to eat a frozen Stouffer’s mac and cheese straight out of the freezer.

Top 8 Curse Words to Teach to Your Sister’s Toddler

Posted on by Josephine Ramos

Is your sister pissing you off? Are you in charge of her toddler for the next six hours while she gets sloppy wasted at girl’s night? Here are the eight best curse words to weaponize your three-year-old niece’s vocabulary.

Bastard Man

A sure-fire way to ruin any wedding, church service, or airplane ride is by bringing a manic toddler loaded up on obscenities. Before getting to the emotionally manipulating insults, “bastard man,” is a good one to start with.

Fuck

A classic. A video of a baby saying, “crap” doesn’t make it on America’s Funniest Home Videos. The real way to capitalize on that child is to cut out that weak shit and get them to say the big F-word for the world to hear. Make them the baddest kid at pre-school and a walking nightmare for the family.

Dickmunch

Dickmunch, like its brothers Assface and Turdbreath, remains a staple in introductory profanity. When working your way up from “crap” to “motherfucker,” “dickmunch” is definitely an important milestone.

Tax Collector

The first things a child should learn are the alphabet, please and thank you, and that the scumbag puppets of an exploitative economic system are called tax collectors. Gotta teach ‘em young. Because when “boot-licker thief” isn’t hurtful enough, there’s always “tax collector.”

Phony Bologna

If I grew up thinking Disney channel dropped the equivalent of an F-bomb every episode, I might have watched more television and stayed off the streets.

 Nerd

Imagine you are minding your own business and some illiterate little dweeb calls you a nerd straight to your face. Devastating blow, but as long as you are more cognitively developed than this three-year-old child, then its technically accurate. Can’t even argue it without proving the little twerp right.

Gaslighter Son of a Bitch

One day that kid is going to find out Santa Claus isn’t any more real than the tooth fairy, or how the family dog that ran away to the country is just straight up dead. The kid is going to catch people in lies, and she’ll need a good way to call them out.

Neutral Milk Hotel Fan

The kid needs to know the difference between good music and whatever the hell is on her father’s On Avery Island CD. At least someone in the family should teach the kid about real music. Like System of a Down.

God Has a Plan: When This Christian Rock Drummer Died in a Car Accident His Band Got a New Drummer and He Is Much More Talented

Posted on by Dan Rice

It’s no secret that our Lord works in mysterious ways. He allows bad things to happen to good people, he buries dinosaur fossils to test our faith, and he allowed the democrats to steal our election for who knows what reason.

Indeed God’s plan can seem confounding when misfortune falls upon us. That’s what makes it all the more satisfying when the machinations of his grand design become perfectly clear.

When Christian Rock band Lion’s Den lost their drummer Gabriel Sommers in a fatal car accident, the remaining members couldn’t help but question why it had to happen. Then they auditioned drummer Gideon Parks, and it became abundantly clear why Sommers had to die.

We asked the surviving members of the original Lion’s Den lineup to give us some insight into their recent loss turned into absolute gain.

“When Gabriel passed, I would pray with his mother, and all she could do was ask God why her son was taken from her so young. I didn’t know what to say at the time, but now I know exactly why God let that drunk guy kill Gabriel. I can’t wait to tell Mrs. Sommers the good news!”
Peter Hutchins, frontman

“Not only is Gideon twice the drummer Gabriel was, but he’s also so much cooler than Gabriel! He’s got a tattoo, he knows the shit out of scripture, and he’s a blast on tour! Last week in Vegas he talked us all into splitting a nip of banana schnapps and we stayed up till 11:30 at night watching Seinfeld reruns! We had to pray pretty hard to wash that debauchery away but it was worth it!”
Adam Heath, lead guitar

“I used to question God’s plan when he allowed children to be slaughtered in schools, but now my eyes were open. Now I know that every one of those kids was going to grow up to be a drummer that would hold their band back.”
Michael Sinclair, bass

“Gideon helped us tighten the heck out of our tribute song to Gabriel and now it’s our most played track on Spotify, so that’s two reasons God murdered Gabriel right there!”
Shawn Hemmings, rhythm guitar

Opening Band Blows Audience Away With Half-Working Christmas Lights Draped Over Drum Set

Posted on by Dave McNamara

WORCESTER, Mass. – Local shoegaze band Snooze Pedal thrilled audience members by using half a string of Dollar General Christmas lights to illuminate the stage during their set, confirmed multiple sources who swear they will tell their grandchildren about what they saw.

“I had the idea during a practice last week and the guys were skeptical at first because they said it would be ‘too flashy’ but eventually they came around,” said drummer Tyler Jefferies. “We had some friends come to our rehearsal space to check it out and they were floored. They said it was ‘like watching The Arcade Fire in their prime, but way better’ and it’s really all because of those lights. My mom told me I better have them back the day after Thanksgiving or she’d have my ass, but we only have one gig booked for the rest of the year so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Fans in attendance were floored by the advanced stage setup.

“When the drummer asked the tech to kill the stage lighting I thought, oh please not another gimmicky guitar cab with lights for speakers. But then the Christmas lights came on and I thought… ‘whoa!’ Then the lights started twinkling and I thought to myself ‘this is like Christmas Eve on quaaludes!” said show attendee Damarr White. “I can’t say that I remember their songs too well. Sounded like a distorted skill saw run through six reverb pedals, but those lights really made the show!”

Chaz Davis, longtime production manager for the iconic metal band Iron Maiden says concert optics are something that can separate your band from the pack.

“It’s all about the show, mate. You gotta wow the punters with a bit of razzle-dazzle or they’re gonna spend their money on Kiss tickets instead, and at that point, you might as well just flush your money down the toilet,” said Davis while setting up a series of pyrotechnic blasts. “This tour we built a fire-breathing Eddie robot that shoots flames ten feet over the audiences’ heads. We have a laser Union Jack beamed over the arena and enough dry ice to reverse global warming. If you don’t burn your mark on the audiences’ brains, they’ll forget you as soon as they leave the car park.”

Following the positive reaction to the Christmas lights, Snooze Pedal hopes to further enhance their stage show by buying one of those “old-timey looking Elvis microphones.”

Ugh: This Influencer Is Right About Social Issue

Posted on by Neel Bhakta

Listen, we’ve all been in this situation before. You take a little break in your day and decide to sneak a peek at your phone. Five minutes turns into 3 hours, and now some annoying influencer fuck decides to grace your ears with their opinion on the hot button social issue dominating your news feed. And just when you think it can’t get any worse, they’re objectively correct.

One second I’m watching some guy putting hundreds of rubber bands on a watermelon to see when the thing pops, while simultaneously ignoring the intrusive thoughts begging me to try that out on body parts of my own, and the next second I’m hearing a succinct and accurate narration of the student debt crisis over video footage of an influencer filling up a kiddie pool with strawberry-banana jello.

Somebody’s gotta speak the truth I guess, even if that somebody just spilled 50 gallons of jello on their neighbor’s front lawn.

The simple solution to my problem is to not watch anymore. Except it’s not that simple. I need something to get me through my dreadful minimum wage job. It turns out that watching someone nodding their head and pointing at captions that support an increase in the minimum wage is the only entertainment the algorithm will grant me.

It cannot be emphasized enough, I wholeheartedly agree with the assertion that universal healthcare is a fundamental human right. But if I have to see one more influencer whip out a ukulele and subject me to their little quirky show tune, I might just have to change my deeply held beliefs and morals so I’m not associated with these fucking weirdos.

I’m no conspiracy nutjob, but this 1000% has to be some government psyop shit aimed at dissuading potential progressive voters. This is the same shit they pulled with Green Day’s American Idiot, except that backfired and millions of teenagers began wearing thick black eyeliner instead.

I’m just so sick of it. If I wanted to hear a bunch of out-of-touch assholes obnoxiously point out actual flaws within our society and then stand by and watch as nothing fundamentally changes, I’d just talk to any politician in the Democratic party.

Quiz: Are You Horny Enough to Go to The Ren-Faire?

Posted on by Dan Rice

It’s getting entirely too hot to be outside and you know what that means: It’s Renaissance Faire season!

Baking in a parking lot all day wearing period-appropriate tight leather attire isn’t something a sane person would do by choice, let alone pay for, which is why horniness is the lifeblood of the Ren-Faire industry.

Gather round ye wenches and swordsmen and submit yourself to this rousing inquisition to determine if you’re Renaissance Faire horny or just stay at home and masturbate for free horny, if ye dare!

Does the sight of people sweating in their leather bodices make paying $25 for a smoked turkey leg in 90-degree heat seem appetizing and reasonable?
Maybe it isn’t poultry ye truly hungers for, if ye catch me meaning!

Is the opportunity to publicly indulge in thinly veiled kink play worth literally all of your money?
If you’re ready to shell out $500 for a hand-crafted flogger first and worry about rent later, welcome home.

Are you so fucking horny?
Like just, “I am literally going to fucking explode” horny? Then maybe you need to be where people get you.

Are you interested in spending $65 on organic honey sold by an attractive cosplayer?
Nothing makes the selling power of local honey’s curative properties hit harder than a period-appropriate corset or codpiece, depending on ye’s fancy.

Have you burnt yourself out on every Game of Thrones sex scene?
Even Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth? Stop taking this quiz and go pay the $40 zero-inclusive entry fee immediately m’lady or lord!

Does a man dressed as an old-timey blacksmith selling hentai out of a tent for some reason seem normal to you?
If he wasn’t a legitimate merchant, why would they let him have a tent in a parking lot?

Does candle making just kinda do it for you?
Like, REALLY do it for you?

Do you feel no need to question why a bunch of the ren fair people are pirates because pirates are also very sexy to you?
Ren fair just means time-sexy, right?

Have you been deprived of sex long enough to have mastered archery?
Maybe you should go to the one place where that means something!

Do you love horses, because of their majesty?
Best not to unpack this one just get to the ren fair asap!

Do you walk around all day wishing for an excuse to call total strangers wenches, bastards and harlots?
That’s not appropriate no matter where you are, but at the ren fair people are 10% more likely to dismiss you as a harmless drunk loser, so have at it?

Did it not occur to you that there would be kids at this god damn thing?
Whoops.

If you answered yes to 3 or more of these questions then huzzah fair traveler, the Renaissance Faire welcomes ye with open arms and an off-putting lack of boundaries. If ye answered yes to two or less questions than nay, begone ye from thy leathery fields of frivolous spending and just go on PornHub.