If Alcohol Is Bad For My Body Why Is It Giving Me The Strength To Fight All These Bouncers?

All I’ve heard my entire life is that alcohol is bad for my body, it’s destroying my insides, it’s gonna send me to an early grave, and blah blah blah. If that were true, then why is it giving me the strength to fight all these bouncers single-handedly right now?

How can something supposedly so destructive provide me with so much superhuman power that I’m able to hold my own against these juiceheads twice my size? The only explanation is that my family, friends, doctors, and old AA sponsors are all full of shit and have been lying to me for years. Why? Probably because they’re jealous that I can do cool ass things like use this pool cue as a bo staff to swing at these goons who want to kick the shit out of me for no good reason other than the fact that I’m “a threat to their clientele and property.”

I’ve never studied martial arts a day in my life, but now thanks to ole’ John Barleycorn, here I am Jason Bourning the SHIT out of these black shirts.

If you don’t believe that consuming a bottle of 50 proof hooch coupled with the numerous beers I’ve had makes me an expert at hand-to-hand combat, that’s fine. But then how do you explain all the other impressive things I was able to do because of it?

None of my friends believed that I could/should drive after all the booze I’ve had today, but not only did I get here in one piece, I performed a sick daredevil trick out front by jumping over some parked cars with my motorcycle. And I almost pulled it off except for that son of bitch gust of wind that came out of nowhere and hurled me through the windshield of a Honda Civic. If it wasn’t for the potent reposado pumping through my veins, I would have been in A LOT of pain.

They say you can’t keep a good man down, and I believe that. Especially one who’s dangerously over the legal limit and who clearly has no regard for the safety of himself or any other human being.
With the combination of an overinflated ego and my desire to numb my senses with alcohol, I can do anything — even fight off these fucking cops who just showed up, and who think their shitty batons/tasers/guns with have any effect on me or my invincibility.

Also, I look better drunk!

New Sid Vicious Signature Bass Doesn’t Come With Output Jack

LOS ANGELES – Legendary guitar manufacturer Fender announced their new Sid Vicious Signature Classic bass guitar which will feature a rosewood fretboard, vintage sculpted rear body, premium pickups, and absolutely no output jack whatsoever.

“We’re so proud to capture the essence of what made Sid such a memorable figure and someone that still inspires bass players to this day,” said Fender PR Lead Miguel Hopkins. “For months we researched his style down to the finest detail. And what we learned was that the rest of the band did everything in their power to ensure there was no way in hell anyone would ever hear him play. Ever. Turns out Sid was essentially a strung-out mascot that did more harm than good to not only the Sex Pistols, but to the punk genre at large.”

Enthusiasts are ecstatic that soon they’ll be able to get their hands on a detailed replica played by one of punk history’s most incorrigible characters.

“Sid Vicious was so cool, I want to be just like him when I grow up. The clothes, the girls, the heroin addiction, I want all of it” said 15-year-old Eric Raskin, who was introduced to the Sex Pistols by his cool older cousin. “I’ve always wanted to play just like him ever since I heard about him last year, and now I can! Plus the strap is a chain with a padlock, so once you put it on you can’t take it off. Should help weed out some of the posers. ”

Original Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones confirmed the rumors that Vicious was not only a terrible bass player, but was barely a musician at all.

“I considered him more of a fan than a band member, funny innit?” Jones reminisced. “I played bass on the record. And live? Let’s just say nobody seemed to mind that Sid never plugged in, did they? Ironic, that. Even today he’s still our most famous member, but he really didn’t do much except for murder that Spungen bird, did he? Maybe if he’s your favorite bass player you don’t deserve an output jack in the first place. But who am I to say?”

Feedback on the new bass guitar is mostly negative with users saying that the “Sid Vicious Signature Classic is a cheap, gimmicky, watered-down version of the ‘Punk Legends’ Dee Dee Ramone Signature Classic bass guitar model.”

How to Grill a Steak So Perfectly That No One Realizes You Don’t Know Your Children’s Birthdays

There’s nothing worse than a gray, flavorless steak. You might as well be eating a piece of shoe leather! Fortunately, we can give you tips on how to select the perfect cut of meat, dry-rub that is chock full of flavor, and give it that perfect char that makes you seem like the kind of parent who knows their children’s birthdays!

It’s not as difficult as you’d think, unlike remembering the specific day of the year your children first came into the world because you are always too busy working!

Select Your Steak: Not every piece of meat was created equal. Just like when you are desperately racking your brain to pick the date that seems most likely to be the little one’s birthday, you need to be able to make a decision. Different cuts of meat all have different levels of fat marbling, tenderness vs chew factor, and what connoisseurs call “butteriness.” Decide what you’re looking for in the steak (and in a family life that seems more distant every day), and pick accordingly.

Assume the Biggest Child is the Oldest One: This one can be tricky! Most likely, the biggest kid is the oldest, but you can’t take that for granted. The rule of thumb is that height and muscle density are the best way to get a good idea of a child’s general age or the firmness of a sirloin.

Dry-Rub That Sucker:
Purists will say a good steak should speak for itself, just like those kids could maybe drop a hint if they were spring babies or maybe summer? One of them was around Christmas, it feels like. But rubbing your steak with kosher salt, black pepper, and our secret ingredient, a pinch of ground coffee will bring things to the next level!

Always Have Some Generic Gifts Ready: Keep all-age gifts like socks, watches, or maybe a bottle of schnapps (if they look like they’re maybe close to drinking age or just hit puberty early) around in your hiding place in your den, and make it look like you know anything about the lives of the human beings you’ve created!

Feigning your way through knowing it’s your kid’s birthday with a pre-prepared stock gift will make the entire steak cooking process go a lot smoother.

Always Charcoal, Never Propane: Wait, who’s that child? Do you have another kid somehow? That’s the neighbor kid? Right. Okay. Whew.

Let The Meat Rest, Unlike Your Conscience: A lot of amateurs cut into a steak fresh off the grill, just like they would say the first date that comes to mind without even watching their kids’ faces carefully while saying some days that seem likely. You need to let cooked steak rest for at least five minutes for its juices to reincorporate back into the meat, and you need to be absolutely sure you don’t accidentally say your boss’s birthday instead of the middle kid’s, unless you want to be sleeping on the couch and looking into divorce attorneys.

Bon Appetit!

Boyfriend Exhibits Worrisome Signs of Early Onset Townes Van Zandt Phase

WEST NEWTON, Mass. — 28 year old Jim Sylvia’s deep dive into Townes Van Zandt’s catalog has become a cause of concern for his girlfriend, Heather Ferreira, according to sources close to the couple.

“I was hoping it would just be a brief infatuation, but it’s been a few months and he’s still listening to nothing but Townes,” said Ferreira of her partner’s newfound obsession with the road-weary outlaw country artist. “He’s had me watch that clip from ‘Heartworn Highways’ where the old guy cries dozens of times now. Now he wants to rename our cats Pancho and Lefty. He even traded in his scally cap for a cowboy hat. My father went down a Van Zandt hole a few years back, and I refuse to watch that happen again.”

Sylvia, a data analyst, claimed his partner is overreacting and doesn’t understand his new outlook on life, which was shaped by repeated exposure to Van Zandt’s morose lyrics depicting the troubled lives of down-and-out blue-collar folk.

“Yeah, my old lady keeps ridin’ me about my lifestyle,” said Sylvia with an affected Texas accent while ordering lunch on Doordash. “She just doesn’t get it. But how could she? She listens to Arcade Fire and The White Stripes. Nothing that plumbs the depths of despair like Townes. She was concerned about my habit of slugging bourbon straight from the bottle until I showed her it’s just kombucha. I wish I could drink like Townes but sadly alcohol just makes me feel queasy.”

Psychologist Gary Wagner is alarmed by the spread of what’s become known as ‘Townes Van Zandt Syndrome’ among young people.

“While it is rare for someone in their twenties to exhibit signs of TVZS, it’s not unheard of,” explained Wagner. “And diagnoses are on the rise as more people discover Mr. Van Zandt’s music online. All the telltale signs are present in Mr. Sylvia’s case: frequent discussions of the futility of life and the inevitability of death, a fixation with ‘ramblin,’’ repeated utterance of the phrase ‘waitin’ around to die,’ the use of chewing tobacco, or in Mr. Sylvia’s situation, Big League Chew. This is a textbook case.”

At press time, Sylvia was spotted attempting to hitchhike to his Brookline office along Route 9 with an acoustic guitar slung across his back.

5 Ways To Drive Your Man Crazy As Outlined By Recently Declassified MK Ultra Documents

Having trouble keeping the spark alive with that special someone? You may be having a communication problem, but who gives a fuck about that when you can just break his mind and bend it to your will?

We have 5 sure-fire methods, as conducted and perfected by the CIA, to keep your man coming back for more or, at the very least, too weak to leave!

DRUGS:
Prepare a romantic, candle-lit dinner, subtly laced with LSD. We personally love Martha Stewart’s chicken pot pie recipe available on her website; creamy, flakey, and just enough garlic to hide that telltale acid flavor, this delicious dish will surely become one of his favorites, and not just because it makes him roll his balls off.

SETTING
Decorate your love nest so it’s homey, yet also effective as an interrogation cell. You’re a beautiful girl who is always cold, he doesn’t need to know that’s because you have the A/C on in January. And like any good girlfriend, steal his hoodie! This doubles as a sign of dominance and is a bonafide torture method. You think the boys down in GTMO have blankets?! Also, loosen those light bulbs! Nothing says “you WILL tell me what happened on boy’s night” quite like a flickering overhead lamp.

ISOLATE YOUR MAN

You deserve his complete attention, and the only way to get it is by driving an irreparable wedge between him and his friends and family. This is where you get to have fun with it! After all, relationships are meant to bring YOU joy!

Our go-to method is simple: change his phone number, deactivate his social media, publish an obituary, buy a coffin, hire an actor as a reverend, rent out a church, and fake his funeral. In the grand scheme, a burial plot with an empty coffin is a small price to pay for your future happiness.

BRAINWASHING
Every photo you take needs to be flattering, and of course, full of subliminal messages. Crop out that double chin and extra thigh meat and with all that additional space you now have room for love notes. Some of our personal favorites are “you could never live without me, like really, you would kill yourself” and “I am your Queen, bow to me peasant”. Feel free to personalize by exploiting your man’s individual fears.

AUDIO
Curate the perfect Spotify playlist that keeps him up all night! After all, a tired man is a pliable man. You’ll need a speaker, a laptop and/or burner phone, and a Spotify account – that’s it! Now hide that speaker under his pillow, and have it play disturbing, sub-aural frequencies in 10-15 minute increments. But remember ladies,if you’re spending the night you’ll need ear plugs! After all, you still need to get your beauty rest.

Finding your soul mate can be hard Queens, but turning the man of your dreams into a zombie-like love slave is so much easier if you follow these 5 love hacks. Happy hunting!

The Gaslight Anthem Tour Delayed Until Band Figures Out How To Load Gear Into ‘57 Thunderbird

NEW BRUNSWICK, N.J. — Fans of The Gaslight Anthem were disappointed to learn that the band’s long-awaited reunion tour will be postponed until the band can figure out how to load their gear into a classic 1957 Ford Thunderbird.

“We’re so excited to be back on the road as a band,” said frontman Brian Fallon while wiping his hands clean with an old rag after giving the car an oil change. “But we all agreed we don’t want to do it until we can do it right—in a 1957 E-Series Ford Thunderbird. In my head, we’re cruising down Route 66, following the neon signs and the whiskey bottles just like Kris Kristofferson or Tom Petty, but these days the dream has worn thin, and the neon’s burned out. Also, it’s hard to fit a bass cab into a two-seat convertible.”

A representative from Stub Hub confirmed the delay.

“It’s disappointing, to be sure, but we knew there might be issues with this tour from the start,” said sales rep Angela Stafford. “The guys in The Gaslight Anthem are fans of all things retro and sometimes that can be difficult to manage. For example, we only just got them to buy cell phones for the ‘59 Sound anniversary tour in 2018, before that, they would only call from payphones outside of 24-hour diners, and only after dark, when you could hear the streetlights buzzing. We’ve also got a Rolodex full of every diner waitress whose name is just ‘Red’, just to keep an eye on them.”

Others, while a little let down, saw an opportunity in the announcement.

“Sure, I want to see them sooner rather than later, but this will give me a chance to break in my leather jacket,” said Billy “Switchblade” Martinez while shining an apple on his well-worn blue jeans. “Don’t want to look like an idiot, wearing clothes from this century. Plus, I was instructed to follow the band around on tour. Not just as a fan, but as a mechanic. Do you know how often a car like a ‘57 Bird is going to break down? I’ll be stocked in hair pomade for years after this.”

At press time, Stafford confirmed that the band had sold the Thunderbird and instead bought a van that was nearly identical to the one that Springsteen would tour in, but that Gaslight’s would go about twice as fast.

Help! I Fell in Love With a Man Who Rides an Electric Longboard to Work!

When I pictured falling in love, I imagined the classic story of “girl meets guy and falls in love.” But apparently, fate had other plans for me. My love story is more like “girl meets guy and falls in love but then the guy leaves the girl’s house the next morning to go to work on a fucking electronic longboard.

Let me start from the beginning. I met the man of my dreams online. We chatted back and forth for weeks. I was smitten. When we finally met in person, something felt off. He was wearing flip-flops and a Tommy Bahama shirt and tried to pay for our meal with an NFT of a banana.

But then it happened. When he stood up to leave, he pulled out an electric longboard. A device he claims is his sole source of transportation. I watched him smoosh down his man bun, clip on a proprietary Bluetooth helmet, and ride off up a hill, nary a foot touching the ground.

I’ll admit the warning signs were there. On his profile he mentioned he was a skater, but not once did he acknowledge any of my deep-cut references to 80s skateboarding movies. Not once did he like any of the advanced tech deck video tutorials I’ve uploaded to Youtube. Not once did he tell me to shred gnar.

I bet he wouldn’t even recognize Tony Hawk in an airport.

I thought using Bumble rather than Tinder would protect me from this exact situation, but it turns out that absolutely no one is safe from douchey electronically powered devices. Skating is not a crime, but secondhand embarrassment caused by people riding electric skateboards should be.

Obsessed Taco Bell Scientist Resorts to Unnatural Methods to Create Forbidden 8th Layer

IRVINE, Calif. — Doctor Lazlo Thesiger, a research scientist at Taco Bell’s Insights Lab, has resorted to unnatural and dark methods to achieve his obsessive vision of an eighth layer, sources report.

“Those fools in the Taco Bell C-Suite have forbidden me from achieving true greatness,” said Doctor Thesiger while arcs of crackling electricity shot through a pan of refried beans behind him. “Particularly Vice President in Charge of Recipe Development Chad Arthurson, who lacks vision. I have a vision! I have a vision of an atomic-powered eighth layer that will achieve perfection in this jungle of a world, far surpassing these primitive Seven-Layer Burritos and White Hot Ranch Fries Burritos, which are available for a limited time at participating locations. And mark my words, my vision shall be…fulfilled!”

Ivan Rosmaninoff, Doctor Thesiger’s longtime lab assistant, was increasingly uncomfortable with the experiments.

“The Doctor is a visionary,” said Rosmaninoff, cowering behind a table as Doctor Thesiger screamed for more power. “Without him, Taco Bell would not boast such satisfying and innovative menu items as the Pinto Bean Quesarito and the Supreme Pinto Bean Quesarito with Bacon, for only $1.49 more. But his methods have become…extreme. Questionable. I am constantly terrified of what the Doctor will attempt next, like forcing me to steal the Mongolian Book of the Dead from the museum or inject guacamole with DNA labeled ‘Unknown Source.’ And it makes me very uncomfortable how much he talks about Vice President Chad Arthurson.”

“Plus, you can’t even really taste the eighth layer,” Rosmaninoff added. “It’s just like more of the same.”

Vice President in Charge of Recipe Development Chad Arthurson confirmed that Doctor Thesiger’s recent experiments were not condoned by Yum! Brands, Inc., the parent company of Taco Bell.

“This man, this monster, Thesiger, has gone too far this time,” said Arthurson while smoking a pipe in the Taco Bell Executive Lounge. “He has been warned time and time again that some menu items are the domain of God and God alone. While we cannot deny the good he has done for this company and our great line of affordably priced, freshly prepared foods, his mind has grown twisted. We have ordered the Taco Bell Constabulary to his labs, where he will be given five minutes to collect his personal belongings in a box and be escorted off the premises. His abomination of an eighth layer will never be.”

As of press time, Doctor Thesiger was laughing maniacally above the shrouded form of a misshapen burrito, which had slowly begun to twitch.

Nepotism? My Dad Was The Drunkest Guy In Town And Now I’m The Drunkest Guy In Town

I remember bouncing on my father’s knee when I was just a boy, his breath that comforting aroma of Milwaukee’s Best and 711 taquitos. He gestured in front of us and wistfully remarked, “One day son, all of this could be yours…”

In a literal sense he was pointing at a huge pile of water-damaged “Hustler” magazines, but I think it was supposed to be a metaphor.

What he really meant was that one day, if I was willing to sacrifice and put in the work, I could strive to have the life he had made for himself. But, just because my father was once the drunkest guy in this ol’ town and I now go by that same moniker, that doesn’t mean there’s any nepotism going on here. I didn’t inherit my “Do Not Serve This Man” title, I earned it, one appearance in the local paper’s police blotter at a time.

Sure, dad pulled a few strings for me here and there, like reserving a permanent stool for me at the local dive bar when I turned 15 or signing me out of school to bring me to MTV Spring Break ‘98 for Take Your Child to Work Day. But, this is no George W. Bush, ‘my daddy let me be the president’ situation.

And I’m not some genetically fortunate, talentless hack like Jaden Smith or Frank Stallone, either! Although I did party with those two in Atlantic City one hazy night a few years back and, honestly, both great guys. We’ve got a group text and everything.

No, I’m telling you, my success has nothing to do with my father. Granted, he set an admirable example by ruining a state record 24 consecutive weddings. And, I’ll admit, it is a bizarre coincidence that my grandpa, great grandpa, and every male on my father’s side were also considered the drunkest fella in their respective hometowns.

But, ultimately, each one of us had to forge that path for himself. Nobody was going to hand it to us! We each rightfully acquired the title of sloppiest lush in town the old fashioned way, by drinking old fashioneds every night and waking up naked and covered in Taco Bell in the town gazebo every morning.

I earned the mantle of town drunk, and I look forward to taking it to dizzying new heights. For example, I’m about to throw up in the ambulance I was wrestled into!

Bigfoot Killing It on Bass in Doom Metal Band

SEQUIM, Wash. – Local doom metal band Skull Ritual are seeing a sudden surge in popularity ever since adding an elusive Sasquatch to their rhythm section, confirmed fans of the band and Bigfoot hunters who are interested in exploring more bands within the genre.

“Man, I was fuckin’ stoked when I heard the news they were replacing their old bassist with a mythical ape-like creature,” said longtime Skull Ritual fan Jimmy Noah. “The last guy they had playing bass was some short, puny, hairless guy who had no style or stage presence whatsoever. I’ve seen some recent grainy ass footage of them playing in Portland with Foot, and I can’t wait to catch ’em live. That is if the rumors of them playing Maryland Doom Festival this year aren’t just an elaborate hoax.”

Bigfoot himself took time from screaming his patented mating call into the woods to weigh in on being asked to become the new bass player for Skull Ritual.

“For the past few years all I’ve done is play bass for shitty Brotherhood ripoffs and a lot of grunge revival bullshit,” said Bigfoot while sporting a tattered Candlemass ‘Doomicus…’ t-shirt. “When I stumbled upon the Skull Ritual guys smoking weed and drinking beer in the woods I felt pretty vulnerable. We got talking about metal and I realized this is the genre I should have been playing all along, I was honored to report for bass duty when they asked me. And the guys are pretty happy that I have the strength of five men so I can carry my bass cab upstairs by myself.”

Cryptozoologist and fan of metal and punk music, Rich Sorensen, asserts that cryptid musicians are becoming more common these days.

“I love the fact that these creatures that science has rejected are being accepted in the punk and metal communities,” said Sorensen. “I believe that the masses would be shocked to find how many of them actually play in bands. As a matter of fact, the Jersey Devil was playing drums in a Misfits cover band I saw last Halloween. The Loveland Frog is doing vocals in an emo band in Ohio that is just signed to Sideonedummy. And the Skunk Ape in Florida is playing in a metalcore band with some former members of Evergreen Terrace.”

At the time of press, it was rumored that a YouTube video of the Mothman playing djent style guitar had been circulating around on social media.