Oh You Have COVID? Name Three Times You Ignored Your Symptoms and Went to Target Anyway

Posted on by Ben Friedman

Hey bud, haven’t seen you around in a while, oh, you’ve been isolating! Didn’t know you could wait tables from home, ha ha. Wait, you tested positive for COVID? I’m sorry to hear that, but to be honest if you were truly sick you’d have disregarded your symptoms and gone shopping at Target at least three times by now.

I mean you heard the President, we need to make sure our economy makes a strong recovery even if it means ignoring severe body aches and labored breathing to buy $600 worth of Legos. I’ve done my part, can you say you’ve done the same?

In the last six months I’ve contracted the Delta and Omicron variants but that never stopped me from walking aimlessly up and down the aisles of my local Target’s multiple times a week. Sure, that was mostly due to the virus induced brain fog but at least I’m giving the employees a reason to be there. They’re heroes, you know.

You’re really going to expect me to believe that complete loss of taste and smell is going to prevent you from taste testing all the pastries at the bakery section anyway? If you live your life like literally nothing has changed, then the virus can’t win.

Listen, I get that you’re thinking of the greater good not wanting to inadvertently infect someone’s grandma and all that high minded stuff. But sometimes you just gotta risk it for a one-in-a-three-month deal on coffee makers. I bet you have a cold, or at worst allergies. I mean whenever I have a sinus infection, I just don’t want to do anything.

OK look, I didn’t want to be an asshole about it but I distinctly remember all those vaccination card selfies you posted last summer, so let’s just call it what it is: you’ve got the sniffles. Now take some cough drops and get your ass in the car, I need you to help me pick out a new pair of sweatpants.

Bruce Springsteen to Celebrate Working Class by Holding Five Hour Concert Until 2 a.m. on Tuesday Night

Posted on by Chris Bowen

NEWARK, N.J. — Beloved blue-collar icon Bruce Springsteen surprised fans in his native New Jersey by announcing a special one-night-only celebration in the middle of a work week, confirmed multiple sources wishing it could be pushed to a Friday or Saturday night.

“My husband knows how much I love the boss, but when I found out he spent $175 dollars a piece on tickets, I started to panic,” said Deborah Howe, a senior operator at a local HVAC parts manufacturer whose husband surprised her with tickets. “I’ll have to put in overtime every weekend for a month! Not to mention I can’t call in sick the next day, I’ve got all my vacation time burnt up for my sister’s wedding in June. But screw it, this will all be worth it to see Springsteen. I have this fantasy he will bring me up on stage to dance, but our tickets are in the nosebleeds to that would be a stretch.”

Longtime department supervisor Gene Black expressed his concerns with how he thinks the ridiculous hours will affect his department’s production numbers.

“When I heard the commotion on the floor about this stupid concert I immediately braced for the barrage of call-ins and time-off requests. A few years back, Bon Jovi played a show at a nearby county fair and the turnout the next day at the plant was damn near non-existent,” said Black. “If Bruce were actually a man of the people he would play a show during everyone’s mandatory one-hour lunch break, and then play an encore during their 15-minute afternoon break. This late-night crap is going to jack everything up.”

The Boss himself took time from comfortably watching mechanics work on his tour bus to talk about the concert.

“You see, I love doing this because I’m just like the common folks,” said Springsteen while enjoying imported caviar on his $1,000,000 tour bus.”I gotta get out there and put my face to the grindstone to earn an honest living too. These weeknight shows are my way of giving back to the community. I slum it with all these mouth-breathers and pull in a cool six figures during the middle of the week and then really cash in by playing a Vegas show on the weekends. I love this country, and I love the people that keep paying top dollar to see me.”

At press time, Ticketmaster representatives confirmed tickets for the concerts VIP nap stations sold out within seconds.

Narcissist’s Funeral All About Him Again

Posted on by Sarah S.

SAN DIEGO — Family and friends of struggling social media influencer Kevin Watkins gathered this Tuesday to try and mourn his untimely passing, only to find the entire funeral was all about him, eye-rolling sources report.

“I’m not surprised that even in death this bastard is still making himself the center of attention,” scoffed Watkins’ disgruntled ex-wife Jennifer Kauffman alongside her two children, while gesturing to Kevin’s in memoriam selfie wall. “I thought we’d just attend the service and get it over with, but it’s been The Kevin Show all fucking day now. It’s actually been quite traumatizing for the kids—one day he’s MIA for Kevin Jr.’s school play and the next he’s everywhere. You can’t move a damn inch in here without hearing about him. Typical.”

Carl Murphy, Watkins’ childhood best friend, was shocked when he found out that Watkins’ will had left him in charge of the memorial.

“Kevin and I hadn’t spoken in years, but he left me a pretty long list of things he wanted done in his honor. I tried my hardest to meet his demands, but most things were just unachievable,” sighed Murphy. “I mean, I wasn’t really sure how to find someone to make a marble bust, and Tom DeLonge hasn’t answered any of my DMs. But I’ve still worked day and night for the past week to put this thing together, and I’m pretty satisfied with the results. And hey, I’m sure I’ll get to be there for the birth of my next child.”

Members of the psychology community report witnessing a new rise in narcissism in recent years.

“This new age of social media has led to a major surge in narcissistic behavior. Everybody wants to be famous and have millions of fans these days, and it’s really quite sad,” said psychoanalyst Dr. Harold Evans, before adding to follow him on TikTok and Twitter for more cyberpsychology facts. “Unfortunately, with more attention being paid to spotting narcissistic abuse, a record number of people including unsatisfied former partners, and people who think someone is ‘just kind of a dick,’ are brandishing everyone with the label, rendering true diagnosis of narcissistic personality disorder ineffective.”

At press time, the American Psychiatric Association announced that it is working hard to bring attention to this media-driven phenomenon and reduce misdiagnoses through their DSM-5 diagnostic criteria Instagram quizzes.

Old Blues Legend Struck by Existential Horror Upon Realizing He’s At Least Indirectly Responsible For Influencing Machine Gun Kelly

Posted on by James Knapp

HOLCOMB, Miss. — Influential Delta blues musician Jojo “Two Joes” Listwood was recently stricken with a life-crippling terror after it occurred to him that, at least intransitively, he is somewhat responsible for the music of Machine Gun Kelly, sources rocked to the very core of their being confirmed.

“Back in my day, we were mostly writing songs about dancing in the barn, now this skinny boy out here doing, the hell if I know what. It makes me wish I never started playing music,” said a clearly still shell-shocked Listwood. “I can’t tell you how many people have told me that my song ‘Delta Ragtime Shake’ was what made them fall in love with the blues and up until now I was always proud of that. But if my influence trickled down into whatever this spooky Kelly man is doing now, then I’d rather just have the good lord take me now.”

Music history professor Barney Thisten explained how the influence of Listwood’s work eventually spiraled into the cavalcade of mediocrity that is Machine Gun Kelly.

“It can’t be overstated how much of a presence those delta bluesmen were for early rock n’ roll musicians. I mean, those guys really knew how to party until the early hours of the morning and they drank grain alcohol like it was water on a humid summer day,” explained Thisten. “But, of course, over time things get co-opted, money gets involved, art gets pacified and commercialized, and in the end you wind up with whatever mainstream schlock-rock convinces people to buy Subarus. That’s how we got where we are.”

Machine Gun Kelly disagreed that Listwood should feel inescapable, pitiless dread at the prospect of influencing his sound.

“I don’t understand why this fucking old ass dude is, like, so overwhelmed by this. I actually never even heard of the guy until this whole mental episode he’s having or whatever,” remarked Kelly while drinking a shot glass of his fiancee’s blood. “He needs to understand we are both rockers. At the end of the day the dude is just jealous that I got like six cars, a hot ass girl, and a big ol’ hog. This guy only recorded like two songs and is just trying to start a beef so he can be relevant again.”

At press time, Listwood had signed on to record a new single with Travis Barker.

Real Life “Groundhog Day?” I Have To Go to Work Again

Posted on by Tyler Roland

“Groundhog Day” is widely regarded to be one of the best mainstream comedies of the ‘90s, and for good reason! Bill Murray’s performance is superb, and the film’s premise of a man being forced to relive the same day over and over again provides ample opportunity for both big laughs and existential contemplation. Unfortunately, it turns out that the real-life equivalent of “Groundhog Day” is not so fun.

I have to go to fucking work. Again.

Every day is the god damn same. I’m pulled out of bed by forces that seem beyond my control. I walk into the office at 8:30, passing Franklin on the way to my desk. Franklin will ask me “How’s it hangin?” and no matter what my reply is he will give the same annoying ass fake laugh. At 9:16, Darren will come up to me requesting my assistance, as “those bagels and coffee aren’t going to magically appear out of nowhere, right?”

You have to believe me, I’ve got this cycle down. When I return to my desk after my post-lunch bathroom cry at 1:16 Greg, the guy in the cubicle across from mine, will approach me to whisper an off-color joke. I suppose it’s possible that it is a different joke each day. I can’t recall if it a racist joke or a sexist joke, but the unpleasantness is always the same. At 2:00 my boss will come by to “touch base” and nod politely while she ignores my attempt to explain why I have not been set up to meet my deadlines before telling me to keep her posted and popping off early for the day. At 2:43 Greg will start browsing softcore porn thinking that no one is looking, but he will forget to turn his volume down, and I will hear the first 3 seconds of a “jerkmate” ad.

Aside from the fun antics, personal growth, and potential for escape and redemption, my life is exactly like the movie “Groundhog Day.” I have become one with Microsoft Office, its cold formulas pressed into my brain, just as Bill Murray’s foot got pressed into that cold puddle on repeat.

I’m beginning to wonder if I can make like “Office Space” one of these days — just say “fuck it” and raise hell to see if it achieves anything of consequence. Until I find that courage, I will be a slave to the clock, its announcement of 4:58 beckoning me so that I can get the hell out of that miserable place, awaiting my time at home in which I can truly do as I please. Of course by then I’ll be too tired to do as I please, and just fall asleep watching “Mad Men” reruns, and then the alarm will go off.

38-Year-Old at Show Keeps Reminding Himself He’s Having a Good Time

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

PITTSBURGH — Local 38-year old man Justin Peterson spent the majority of the show that he is currently reminding himself that he is, in fact, having a good time and is happy to be there.

“I haven’t been to a show in forever,” said Peterson, while clutching the $8 Miller High Life. “So when some of the younger guys at work told me about this gig, I figured what the fuck. I just wish I hadn’t forgotten my earplugs, and it kind of feels weird to be like, 15-years older than anyone else here. Also, my back is going to feel like shit tomorrow from standing on this concrete floor.”

Sarah Sandfrey, a 22-year-old student at Carnegie Mellon, spotted Peterson lying to himself about his ability to still hang like it’s 2006 while attending the same show.

“Yeah, that old dude looks miserable,” said Sandfrey. “He keeps crossing his arms, and then does, like, a head shake and uncrosses them. And he has pins up and down the lapel of his jean jacket that say like, Ted Leo and shit. Is that a name badge or something? I could tell he was really uncomfortable standing, because he was, like, shifting around all the time and arching his back. He must be like, 33 or something.”

The Cheap Seats lead guitarist, Steve Meznick, was happy to see Peterson in the audience.

“We love seeing all kinds of people at shows,” said Meznick at a set break during which Peterson checked his watch four times. “It’s great when you can attract young and old, and whenever I look out there, they’re totally loving it. The twenty-year-olds, the twenty-five-year-olds, I think I even saw someone’s dad out there. Our music is really for everyone. I always know we’re really hitting in hard when people start dancing, like that old guy who was doing some kind of old-school flex dance.”

As of press time, the bassist of The Cheap Seats was reminding himself that he still loves performing in shitty bars.

Report: Bret Michaels Still Living On Rock of Love Bus

Posted on by Luke Gralia

LAS VEGAS — Poison singer Bret Michaels is reportedly still living on the bus where he unsuccessfully tried to find love more than a decade ago when “Rock of Love Bus” initially aired on VH1, confirmed bummed out network sources trying to sell the vehicle.

“He comes in every few days to fill his tank and ramble on about how Bush did 9/11 and a bunch of other nonsense,” said gas station clerk Andrew Sanchez. “The dude still thinks it’s 2006. Last week he told me he was driving to Iraq so he could kill Saddam, but I always see the bus parked in the vacant lot behind the abandoned Hustler Club. He always tries to give me a tour of the bus, but I can tell the insides smell awful. I caught a whiff of it once and it just smells like chemical burns and wet leather boots.”

“I’ve also seen him drink cups of gas for money. The dude can down a whole glass of unleaded without even chasing it,” he added. “Give it a month and he’ll be able to do shots of diesel.”

Local bus mechanic Mario Palmer commented on Michaels’ supposed living situation.

“I figured the guy would have stacked of cash, but I don’t think he’s changed bandanas since the show aired,” said Palmer. “He always tries to get me to work on the bus for free by giving me ‘private concerts’ which is usually him whisper singing ‘Talk Dirty to Me’ while I walk to my car. The one time I did some work on it I found the exhaust pipe was filled with his hair, at least I hope it was his hair. The inside was worse, stuff was thrown everywhere: condoms, beer cans, a few dildos for some reason. The sink is filled with old ‘Girls Gone Wild’ tapes on VHS that looked like someone tried lighting on fire.”

While those around him may be concerned for his well-being, Michaels believes he’s doing just fine.

“I’m thriving,” he said while chewing on a broken guitar string. “Nobody ever asked for the bus back, and it’s big enough to fit all my cowboy hats. I’m doing better than I ever have. You know who you should be worried about is Paris Hilton. I heard she killed Caylee Anthony. I actually have the proof she did it, but the cops in this bullshit town are too scared by the truth.”

According to Michaels, his next EP, “Talk Dirty Car Seats to Me,” will be released sometime before the 2008 election.

Woman Wishes Man’s Grooming Habits Included His Hygiene

Posted on by Dom Turek

NEW YORK — Local woman Francisca Noguera asked her abusive partner of five months if he could extend his grooming habits to include his hygiene, reports show.

“I wouldn’t mind the psychological torment so much if he didn’t make the whole room smell like Doritos every time he took his shoes off,” said Francisca Noguera, referring to her boyfriend, Ray Tennyson. “The gaslighting and empty promises are one thing, but if you insist on isolating me from my friends and family, can you at least stop leaving piss bottles in the bed? I feel like I’m not asking too much, but then again, I am an ungrateful bitch who’s lucky to have someone like him in my life.”

Noguera and Tennyson moved in together after only two weeks of meeting through mutual acquaintances who jokingly told her to “run” and “stay away from that psychopath.”

“I don’t care what anyone says, he’s an amazing boyfriend,” said Ashley Moore, Tennyson’s other girlfriend. “I don’t consider myself a home wrecker because Ray says we’re soulmates, and he even promised me an all-expenses-paid trip to Punta Cana. I never imagined my soulmate wouldn’t know how to wipe his ass properly, or that he’d give me an antibiotic-resistant form of athlete’s foot, but the universe works in mysterious ways.”

After dating a string of “crazy” and “abusive” women, unlucky-in-love Tennyson believes he’s finally found a true partner in Noguera.

“She’s the happiest she’s ever been in her life,” said Tennyson, picking at his teeth with the edge of a MetroCard. “And anyone who says otherwise isn’t allowed to talk to her. Her birthday is coming up, so maybe I’ll do something special like take a shower or trim that one sharp toenail she says always scrapes her when we’re in bed. I’ll probably just end up sabotaging whatever she has planned and make the whole day about me, but who knows. I’m unpredictable, and that’s what’s painfully kind of fun about this.”

At press time, it appeared Tennyson had succumbed to a blood infection caused by severe tooth decay, according to the grossed-out coroner.

Oh, You’re a King Crimson Fan? Please Provide Exactly Zero Extra Information

Posted on by Sam Eardley

Oh, you’re a King Crimson fan? Tell you what, 10 bucks says you can’t name exactly zero KC songs in the next 5 seconds.

Okay I think you missed the tone of my little joke there, please stop naming songs. You just dropped like 8 or 9 deep cuts, I’m impressed okay? We’re good. Stop it.

Hey, I liked them as a kid, but as I got older I just found that I didn’t want to have a noisy angry bad time when I listened to music. So let’s say that this isn’t going to be a shared interest for us, but who else are you into?

Okay, you’re still naming songs. Don’t do that.

Oh, please don’t try to get me on board with 21st Century Schizoid Man. That’s just 90 tolerable seconds followed by 4 minutes of fussy jazz, and you know it. I’ve never wanted to punch a song harder.

10 more song names isn’t a rebuttal, man. How are you getting them out so fast, anyway? Is this some kind of poly-rhythmic gamelan-talking? It’s a technical tour de force, sure, but it’s a sonic bag de shit.

Seriously, though, I really don’t need your Crimson credentials, and yet you’re already up to, what, 40 songs? Maybe think about wrapping it up now. There’s a point of diminishing returns with naming King Crimson songs, and it was about a week before I met you.

Listen, you’re starting to look like the album cover of “In the Court of the Crimson King” right now, so maybe it’s time to call it a night. Maybe cool off with some music that’s had something above 0% female participation.

Do you know Lizzo? She’s the best. Just imagine the flute parts from King Crimson, and then change absolutely everything else. Just imagine completely the opposite thing. Lizzo is to King Crimson what a delicious milkshake is to a cup of vinegar with a single gray pube floating in it.

Wait, did you just name an Emerson, Lake & Palmer song by accident? Oh, fuck. I don’t know which of us should be more embarrassed right now.

Punk House Ottoman Also Functions as Coffee Table, Surgery Prep Station

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

ROCHESTER, N.Y. —Residents of local punk house The Rot Shop are engaged in a heated debate over the merits of the ragged multi-purpose ottoman that resides in the living room of their shared living space, nauseated sources confirmed.

“I picked this baby up off a curb during bulk-pickup week five years ago, and I can’t imagine life without it,” said Scott Jenkins as he gave the ottoman a hearty pat that released a viscous plume of dust and debris. “When I’m kicking back after a long day of work, the grooves are worn in just right for my boots, and when we have company it’s a great surface for somebody to sink their elbows into for a quick tattoo or dermal piercing. I gave it a proper Scotchguard treatment when I first picked it up, so most drinks, cigarette ashes, and bodily fluids wipe right off onto the floor so we can mop it up later. This living room just wouldn’t be the same without it.”

Despite Jenkins’ enthusiasm, his roommate Michelle O’Keefe wants the doomed footrest destroyed by any means necessary.

“I can’t even walk through the living room without getting hit with the smell of spoiled produce and Skol,” O’Keefe gagged as she even thought of the scent. It’s not even like it ties the room together in any conceivable way. It’s completely black and purple at this point, and I think it was beige when Scott first brought it home. I’m all for being thrifty, but I’m pretty sure breathing in the mold spores this thing releases will give me scabies. It’s only 76 miles to Buffalo, and I’m tempted to strap it to the car and chuck it into Niagara Falls. I’m just afraid that if I say it’s the ottoman or me, Scott will rent my room out to somebody else without hesitation, and I don’t think I can find a cheaper place.

When given a chance to observe the ottoman, interior decorator Dani Antionetti did not parse her words.

“That thing’s gotta go. The bloodstains alone are enough for it to be classified as hazardous waste. I would have suggested reupholstering it with a battle jacket theme full of patches and leatherwork, but this ottoman needs to be removed from this earth by force,” said Antionetti. “I can’t even say in good faith whether or not fire is the best way, because I honestly don’t know what kind of diseases it’s carrying.”

At press time, Jenkins was seen carrying in a soiled rug he found by the loading dock behind Golden Corral.

Photo by Jana Miller.