Bob Dylan’s Stomach X-Rays Reveal 20 Years Worth of Accidentally Swallowed Harmonicas

MALIBU,Calif. — Folk music legend Bob Dylan was recently rushed to a local Doctor’s office because of a strange, almost train whistle-like sound emitting from his abdomen caused by decades of harmonica ingesting, medical records confirmed.

“This is something that isn’t terribly common,” said Dr. Lawrence Reiniger, the Radiologist who performed x-rays on Dylan. ”But it definitely isn’t unheard of. The thought of living decades with that many harmonicas inside your stomach is a medical marvel. They have to be ravaging the lining of his stomach. No wonder Mr. Dylan has a reputation for being a bit cranky in his later years, I would be too if I had several noisy, annoying instruments rattling around every time I walked down some stairs. Oddly enough though, he doesn’t exactly seem too concerned about.”

Dylan himself answered speculations on reasons as to how or why this could have occurred over time.

“Listen Maaan,” said Dylan in his trademark rash, nasally, condescending tone. “You people just don’t get me still after all these years. I’m a musical genius, but you know, I’m human too. And Humans make mistakes. Sometimes a genius musician gets lost in his intricacies, and maybe fails to remember the instruments he’s playing all at once sometimes. And that musician accidentally swallows his harp, then gets wrapped up in the busy life and neglects the fact that he should probably get the harmonica he’s eaten removed. That sorta thing can happen five, six, or in my case 37 times! Answer this one, big shot: ‘How many instruments must a man accidentally eat and forget about, until you call him a man?’ I’d say more than one.”

Randolph ‘Liver Spot’ Johnson, a Historian of American Folk music at the Smithsonian Institute, weighed in on the baffling discovery.

“We only know of one other such instance in Folk Music history that comes close to this. It has been documented that Dylan’s Idol, Woody Guthrie, would often eat harmonicas intentionally, but that was during the 1930s Great Depression and Dust Bowl era,” said Johnson. “Times were much tougher for a rugged folk singer back then, and one can assume Dylan’s belly full of mouth harps was created only by accident.”

At press time, it was reported that the black and white images of his x-rays inspired Martin Scorcese to film another documentary based on the brilliance of his harmonica ingesting.

We Surveyed 3.5 Billion Men Who “Used to Skate”

They encompass all backgrounds, all religions, all ages over 14. These findings are revolutionizing what we know about anthropology and culture at large. We surveyed 3.5 billion men from every conceivable demographic who all reportedly, “used to skate.”

Interestingly, despite the plethora of gender options listed on the survey, every single participant opted to write in “dude.”

Here are some excerpts from the testimonials we received:

Jamie Gnash – Ah man, I remember it like it was yesterday. Sickest week of my life.

Aaron Reaz – When I was 18 my parents got me a Zumiez gift card. In my mind that was my ticket to a lifetime of thrashing gnar and smoking mids. Turned out to be more of a semester before a capella became my life.

Sam Jones – Me and my friends stumbled into a skate shop sometime in middle school. I got pretty good over the next few years but quit when I went to Venice the first time and rolled over some dog shit.

Charles Johnston – I only ollied like once and it was on grass but, yeah, skating is my entire identity.

Jim Moyer – I actually built my own mini ramp so I was basically the Bucky Lasek of Harford County. Sadly, the construction workers told my parents about how I stole the wood from the townhomes they were building. I was forced into early skateboarding retirement after that but I never trusted authority again.

Tom Blanchard – I’m no skater. I’m just a guy who kinda looks like Tony Hawk so I spent years hanging out at skate parks selling autographs. Does that count?

Metalhead Hasn’t Heard of Them but Sure They Suck

DETROIT — Local metalhead, 36-year-old Denny Brokum, is reportedly willing to admit that he hasn’t heard of the band Scatological Wasteland but is confident that they suck, according to eye-rolling sources seated across from him.

“Yeah, so what! I don’t waste my time with shitty bands. I know what I like so I just ask myself some simple questions to decide if a band rots,” he said while twisting his braided goatee. “Did it come out in the last 20 years? Does the band name contain more than two words? And is it a reference to a fantasy novel? Are they listed under ‘Associated Acts’ on Ministry’s Wiki page? Are there synths, horns, flutes, banjos, bagpipes, accordions, cellos, glockenspiels, harmonicas, electric violins, harps, sitars, ukuleles, steel guitars, DJs, or second vocalists that don’t also play an instrument? Do any members drink kombucha? Does the drummer have less than two arms? Is Johnny Depp in the band? These are just a few, but if the answer to any is yes, they absolutely, without a doubt suck.”

Long-time friend, Jan Bölbaug, has been trying to introduce a little variety into Brokum’s life for years but has had no luck.

“He’s basically listened to the same 10 albums his entire adult life. I’ve heard every possible excuse for why someone sucks and he’d rather listen to Slayer,” he said while somehow simultaneously sighing. “I’ve also heard every excuse for why Bud, Jack, and Coke are superior to water. And why showering more than three times a week is bad for the stringy-ass hair he has left. I guess I did get him to listen to Mastodon once but he warned me that name was borderline fantasy. I’m glad I didn’t mention that they had a cameo on ‘Game of Thrones’ or he would have lost his mind.”

Gemini Tediodus, renowned music historian, expanded on this common behavior.

“Metalheads are a deeply insecure group. Admitting a new band may not suck puts them at great risk of having their ‘elite’ taste called into question by their Lambogat forum friends. This is why they fearfully retreat to the big four,” said Tediodus. “Sorry, big three, no one actually listens to Anthrax. And unfortunately, the snare sound on ‘St. Anger’ dashed any hopes of change. Since 2003, even the most adventurous of aging metalheads won’t try a new album from their favorite band.”

As the conversation ended, Brokum was seen turning back to his phone, revealing an empty ‘You might also like…’ Amazon tab.

Conspiracy Theorist Trying To Figure How To Fit the Food Pyramid Into All This

PEMBROKE, N.H. — Local crackpot Denise Bemis recently hit a roadblock in her conspiratorial ramblings when she began trying to comprehend how the USDA Food Guide Pyramid is a part of the satanic sub-government that can control minds, deeply troubled sources confirmed.

“I’ve been onto something big here for a long time,” muttered Bemis from an undisclosed linen closet in her own home. “Those centrist anarchists on the far-right thought they could keep the truth from me, but as soon as I figure out how 6 to 11 servings of complex carbohydrates per day connects to the deep state, I’ll finally blow this whole thing wide open. I will not be silenced — and I certainly will not use fatty oils sparingly like the rest of you sheeple!”

Sources close to Bemis confirmed she’s been developing the conspiracy long before this.

“Look, Denise is usually a pretty good lady — quick with a joke and a light up your smoke and all that. But lately, shit, since she started trying to crack what she calls ‘The Devil’s Diet Plan,’ I’ll bet she’s alienated every grocery store and farm stand employee in town,” explained Ky Wilson, Bemis’ friend of more than ten years. “And this isn’t the first time she’s gone off like this. After she learned about the Presidential Fitness Test we didn’t see her for three months, and when she showed back up all of her fingerprints were burned off. She still won’t tell us exactly what happened, but let’s just say she hasn’t climbed a rope since.”

Certified Nutrition Specialist Andrew Ulster took time away from doing real science to weigh in on Bemis’ latest conspiracy development.

“I gotta say, I know this probably doesn’t matter given the circumstances but, the food pyramid has been obsolete for nearly two decades. Conspiracy or no, it isn’t healthy to consume a full block of yellow cheddar three to five times a day,” said Ulster. “I’m actually kinda rooting for [Bemis] at this point. If she dropped the whole new world order angle she could actually focus on how we all bought into this pyramid sham in the first place.”

At press time, Bemis was testing different cyphers against the pyramid by seeing if any anagrams of GMO unlocked anything.

Songwriter Celebrates New Sobriety With Worst Album Yet

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Singer/songwriter Joan Schuller is back in the studio after a 12-year hiatus making what sources excitedly report to be the worst album of her entire career after decades of battling with addiction.

“I shouldn’t even be alive, but by some miracle, I made it through,” said Schuller, absently strumming her guitar and exhaling cigarette smoke. “Now that I’m clean I feel completely at peace, and I want to give my fans a taste of that feeling with a collection of really personal songs that kind of represent me at my absolute core, without all of that chaos, criminal shit, insanity, sex, traveling, and refusal to consider consequences getting in the way. Who wants to hear about that?”

Schuller’s longtime producer Gary Hill described the painstaking process of stripping the studio of its creative atmosphere in an effort to achieve a setting as boring as her recent outlook.

“I changed the lighting from that soft, twilight glow to a white fluorescent. You know, just really bring the beige out in these walls and give the place an institutional feel,” Hill said while hanging a framed crochet of the word “Faith” in the vocal booth. “Even after doing all that, some of the old Joan kept seeping into the music. But I think the cobwebs from the drugs are finally starting to clear, and now we’re getting down to the truly tedious stuff that’s been buried in there all this time.”

Deandra Thomas, Schuller’s sober companion and life coach, expressed some misgivings about the songwriter’s artistic direction.

“I’ve always insisted to my clients that we are just as creative and capable of abstraction in our sobriety as we were when we were using,” said Thomas. “But these new songs have me wondering if maybe, like, smoking a little weed wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world? Just to get the juices flowing. Lots of people are microdosing these days for a number of reasons, and I’m sure that reason for at least some of them is to not subject everyone around them to the inner workings of the ‘being OK with just being OK’ process.”

As of press time, Schuller is dedicating the album to her estranged parents, who are now eagerly awaiting their amends for having been subjected to it.

So You Ate the Aluminum Foil Around the Baked Potato Again. Here’s What To Do Next

You’ve waited for what feels like hours. Your mouth is watering. Your nose smells the moist warmth of the starchy tuber. It’s finally time to eat your baked potato. But you’re too excited. Hands are shaking as they gingerly apply butter and salt. And when it’s finally time to take that first bite, you inhale grams of aluminum foil.

Please know that this has happened to everyone, from the Queen of England to the guy your mom dated for like 2 weeks when you were in 4th grade. The Hard Times is here to help you navigate your shame and pain with a few easy steps.

1. Calm down and don’t panic

It’s easy to overreact when you eat the foil around your baked potato. You worry that maybe you’ll bust a molar crown, or you’ll digest it and the foil will lacerate your intestines on its way out. And while these are very real and legitimate concerns, there is no value in fretting about them.

2. Ipecac + Taco Bell = Success
You need to get the foil out of your body ASAP so you can continue enjoying that buttery, flaky Russet. A combination of syrup of ipecac to induce vomiting and a haphazard assortment of Taco Bell value menu items to initiate diarrhea should do the trick. You won’t have a single bit of solid matter in your alimentary canal.

3. Call Your Ex
Yes, you’re going to have to withstand an “I told you so” and a “Jesus Christ, you ate the foil again?” but your ex is the only one who can help you in your hour of need. Maybe their parenting instincts will kick in and summon an uncontrollable love for you, causing them to see the error of their ways and come crawling back.

4. Write Out Your Last Will and Testament
I hate to break it to you, but this is probably fatal. If you’re still reading, your time is limited. Each second is precious. Write out your last will and don’t make your note too sad. You don’t want to bum out the person finding you. And really think about who deserves to inherit your leftover potato.

Merch Guy Leaves Band to Focus on Solo Merch Project

SEATTLE — Local man Troy Ritter announced his departure as the longtime merch guy for indie band Inside Cat to embark on a solo merch project he’s been dreaming up for years, sources who predict the move will be career suicide confirmed.

“This must be what it felt like for Gwen Stefani to leave No Doubt to pursue her solo project for ‘The Voice’ on NBC,” said Ritter while packing up his trusty merch table and credit card reader iPad attachment. “Let’s just say we had our creative differences. I wanted to take the band in one direction and they evidently claimed I had no say in the artistic process whatsoever. And to think, I sold dozens of their T-shirts throughout my illustrious career. Anyway, my ex-band referring to my merch ideas as ‘objectively terrible’ and ‘a complete waste of time and money’ was just the push I needed to branch out and sell my own completely original apparel designs, which are technically mild copyright infringements on famous bands’ merch. Big things are coming, I can feel it.”

Members of Inside Cat were left scrambling to find someone to sell their goods.

“You know how hard it is to replace a merch guy of his caliber?” asked Jenny Hayes, singer for the recently merchandiser-less band. “Most merch guys avoid eye contact with customers, regularly give incorrect change, and can never find any medium sizes. Not Troy though. He was so good at standing behind a table for minutes at a time and managing simple transactions. Troy even had a couple of really funny jokes he would recycle that always left people feeling happy about their purchase. I honestly don’t even know if we can go on as a band at this point.”

Experts were convinced this break would be temporary.

“He’ll be back with them by the end of the month,” said music critic Tracy Morrispoon. “Solo projects almost always fail miserably. Sure, Beyoncé, Sting, and Justin Timberlake worked out. Also, so did Phill Collins and Peter Gabriel. Oh, and Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, and every single member of the Beatles too. Can’t forget everyone from the Wu-Tang Clan as well. Besides them though, solo projects are usually a bad idea. Well, I guess Morrissey technically did well for himself too despite being unanimously unlikeable. Actually, you know what? That merch guy will probably be fine. You do you big dog.”

At press time, Ritter completed his first solo merch show, but confused concertgoers since his merchandise had nothing to do with the bands who played.

Opera House Ghost Guesses He Just Haunts Live Podcasts Now

MILAN, Italy — The incorporeal specter that has haunted the historic La Scala opera house for more than two centuries recently came to accept the fact that, for the foreseeable future, the only cultural events he’ll be haunting are live podcast recordings, spooky sources confirmed.

“When I first started haunting this theater the stage was host to only the most refined drama serious and opera buffas to ever premiere. But now all I get to haunt are three white guys breaking down every episode of ‘The Cleveland Show.’ I have no idea how that premise requires two hours to record every week, or why anyone would listen to that crap,” said the ghost, just now considering that existing in the liminal fog between life and death may not be all it’s cracked up to be. “Having been a ghost here for two hundred and eleven years, I’ve seen my fair share of fads come through — and normally that’s fine. But after all the serial murderer Wikipedia pages I‘ve heard read on this stage it sometimes makes me wish I’d never been killed by that falling sandbag.”

Lauren Morrow, co-host of the ghost encounter storytelling/sex toy review podcast “Ghouls, Fools & Ass Tools,” asserted her live show’s relevance.

“The G-FAT podcast really prides itself on both our skeptical, even-handed approach to research and our commitment to providing the most elevated content possible,” said Morrow while updating the show’s Patreon tiers. “The way I see it, there isn’t any real difference between the old ballets they used to stage here and me talking about the legend of the Mississippi Swamp Devil while I test out this new brand of nipple deicer. That’s just the way culture is.”

Professional paranormal investigator Federico Manganzana gave his perspective on the famed apparition.

“What? Who gives a shit about what podcast or whatever is going on? You realize this means there’s definite evidence that fucking ghosts exist, right?” exclaimed a deeply frustrated Manganzana. “I’ve been working my whole life to have proof like this! Although I will admit, it’s kinda weird that our evidence for the existence of life after death is basically a very spooky iTunes rating.”

At the press time, the ghost had agreed to do a guest spot on the G-Fat podcast, which is being sponsored by Casper mattress.

Screen Door at Party Functions as Sobriety Check

AUBURN, Maine — Local resident Charles Brennan’s screen door proved to be an effective way to measure the sobriety of guests at his house party last Thursday evening, pragmatic and inebriated sources confirmed this past weekend.

“This is a total game-changer,” said housemate Carly Hubinger. “We don’t want anyone too hammered driving themselves home, but when the band’s going it’s hard to tell how blasted some people actually are. One second somebody’s in the zone playing cornhole, and five minutes later they’re driving through the front of a Wendy’s. Lucky for me, the complete lack of motor function required to do something as simple as walking through a door frame without becoming entangled in the screen and requiring assistance to get out, lets me know for sure that somebody is in bad shape.”

Brennan feels differently about the careless destruction of his property and wishes his guests weren’t so cavalier.

“Listen, I understand that everybody walks through a screen door at some point in their life,” he said. “Fuck, I’ve even done it sober. I can just pop it back on its tracks and then go about the rest of my day. The problem is that when somebody wants a running start to the swimming pool from the far end of my living room on the second floor and runs through the screen and the glass, then it’s no longer a sobriety check. It’s pure, unbridled property destruction at this point.”

Local party veteran Eric Stewart weighed in on proper party etiquette.

“If you’re planning to invite a bunch of people who can’t regularly afford their own booze into your home to be their own bartenders all night, then you should expect at least $500 worth of damage,” he said. “And it’s great that the screen door sobriety check is there, because even after the entire door frame has been absolutely decimated and the deck covered in glass, it’s safe to say that if somebody is walking outside barefoot without flinching, that they shouldn’t even be operating a glass of water unsupervised at this point.”

At press time, Brennan was seen shopping for a new door at Lowe’s by hurling himself into the displays and assessing the damage.

Photo by Jana Miller.

Okay I’ll Admit It I Only Got Tattoos So People Would Ask Me How Many I Have, How Much They Cost, and What They Mean

Okay, I’ll only admit it, I only got this tattoo because I want people to ask me about it. Just thinking about the flood of questions, has me itching with excitement. I don’t want people to see me, I want them to see this badass fucking tattoo. This bad boy is going to make me more approachable while solidifying the fact that I’m only interested in talking about one thing, my new tattoo.

These things hurt like hell and frankly, I hate the way they look on me, but it’s all worth it for that sweet sweet human connection. I can hear the questions now.

“What does it mean?”
I’ll get to give some cool, aloof response like, “It’s personal and I don’t want to get into it right now,” or if I’m feeling chatty I’ll get to share a deeply personal story. Hopefully, this will happen in a public setting, like a bar. That way all the people around me will get to hear me drunkenly explain some traumatic event from my life.

“How much did it cost?”
I can’t wait to tell people this fucker cost me one month’s rent. If they tell me that it’s too expensive I’ll explain, “You get what you pay for.” If I’m lucky someone could chime in about how their homie cuts them a great deal. I love hearing how much less someone else paid for their “ink”. I take solace in the fact that said homie would be more than willing to sit me down in their living room and give me shaky-lined hazy blobs at half the price.

Somehow that is still not as satisfying as when people explain why they prefer different styles. I love traditional tattoos, but it is essential that I understand how much greater the depth of photo-realistic or watercolor tattoos are. Fuck I might already have full sleeves, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy someone trying to convince me to switch up my style next time.

“How many tattoos do you have?”
After a point, I lost count, but that’s fine because I enjoy counting all my tattoos one by one. I want to debate whether my sleeve counts as 1 or 6 tattoos. I’ll get to show off most of my tattoos, then teasing that I have a couple more in some “personal areas.” If I’m really lucky, a random stranger will grab my tattoo or try and touch it sensually. I find nothing more appealing than when a stranger nonconsensually touches me, especially if my tattoo is still healing.

I don’t want to think, I want every conversation for the rest of my life to be focused on this tattoo. Fuck I cannot wait to show this off and turn my entire persona into a 5-hour session of redrawn Spaulding flash.