Single Tear Rolls Down Travis Barker’s Cheek Upon Hearing New Pop Punk Song Not Featuring Him

Posted on by John Danek

LOS ANGELES – Blink-182’s virtuoso drummer, Travis Barker, shed a singular tear upon hearing that upstart pop-punk band Girlsack released their first single “Get Sniffed” without giving Barker a cameo, those close to the drummer confirmed.

“Aww come on, aren’t I good enough? Don’t I add enough fills and keep tempo? How could Girlsack do this to me? I’m not sure what I have to do at this point,” lamented a dejected Barker, who has been guest featured on every major pop-punk release since 2015. “Everyone knows I’m the pop-punk drummer guy; ME. Their drummer is really good, but what if you had like. Two drummers for a few songs. That would be so cool. You can’t just ignore me, Girlsack. Come on, let me on ‘Get Sniffed.’ Let me on! Even just a remix, don’t leave me like this. Why God, why?”

Toronto’s Girlsack admit that they had no idea Barker would take such an omission so personally.

“He DM’ed us after our demo came out saying ‘If you ever want a guest on drums, hmu!’ with so many winking face emojis that it kept causing our Instagram app to crash,” recounted Girlsack bassist/singer Bonnie Powell, who admits that Blink-182’s catalogue has been permanently soiled for her after this ordeal. “We were all stoked on that message, but no one actually thought it was a serious offer. Also, this is our first release recorded in a real studio for a label, are we just supposed to tell our drummer Todd to go fuck himself? When we released the song he kept sending us misty-eyed mirror selfies. But lately he’s been sending pictures of all his guns, it’s kind of scary.”

Barker’s current bandmate Mark Hoppus is an expert on dealing with the extremely sensitive drummer.

“Yeah, this sounds par for the course for Travis. He can’t handle feeling like he’s been left out in any way,” explained Hoppus, who has to constantly reassure Barker that he doesn’t miss Scott Raynor. “And now for the next few weeks, he’s going to post screenshots of crappy poems written in the iOS Notes app and keep tagging Girlsack in them. He’ll get over it, probably the next time I forget to introduce him first during a concert.”

Barker’s troubles continue, as TMZ reports Kourtney Kardashian is rethinking her engagement to him after learning of his absence on Girlsack’s “Get Sniffed.”

Real Life “Scream?” Someone Is Calling My Phone

Posted on by Dan Rice

In 1996, horror master Wes Craven took the entire genre in a new direction with the release of “Scream,” a movie about the terrifying consequences of using your phone as a phone. In the world of movies, this premise made for entertainment of the highest caliber. Unfortunately, in a terrifying case of life imitating art, some deranged psychopath has attempted to call my phone, and my life has been a waking nightmare ever since.

It would seem that somewhere out there some sick fuck wants to play some sort of game with me. Or, like, maybe it was a butt dial? Who the hell calls people?!

What’s next, dream demons who kill you in your sleep? Killer dolls? What about leprechauns in the hood, are they real?

According to my phone, the caller is my cousin Greg. But since Greg is my age and not a deranged psychopath, there is no way Greg is calling me instead of texting! In all likelihood Greg has been staged nearby, tied to a chair to be murdered by the elusive ghostface killer right before my eyes.

The way I see it I have two options. Option one: I make a run for it here and now. It’s risky. I don’t know which door ghostface is hiding behind and I would sort of be leaving Greg high and dry. On the other hand, getting help right away could be Greg’s best chance of survival, and honestly, I’ve never been that crazy about Greg to begin with. He’s sort of a “Rogan guy.” Option 2: I pick up the phone, and the game begins.

Honestly, I think I could survive a cat-and-mouse game of horror movie trivia. I’ve seen a lot of them, and I wouldn’t be tripped up by any basic ass “Jason doesn’t show up until the sequel” horseshit. But would that matter? If Drew Barrymore had answered that question correctly, would Ghostface have cut her boyfriend loose and let them both live? The prospect is dubious at best.

I knew I shouldn’t have had all of that beer and weed sex this morning, really shot myself in the foot, horror rule-wise.

Okay there’s a voicemail. It’s my Mom. She ran into Greg at the store and wanted to tell me but she asked to use Greg’s phone because I never answer when she calls. It looks like I’m safe for the time being but Mom might take this as an excuse to pop by unannounced, so I should probably still go get a gun.

Romantic Fall Activity Endured

Posted on by Krissy Howard

NEWBURGH, N.Y. — A romantic day-date activity was undergone and endured by a local couple early yesterday morning, sources who are glad to be back home and watching Netflix in their sweatpants confirmed.

“I have the day off, the air is crisp, and I love my girlfriend, so I figure what better way to appreciate all of that than to subject both of us to an afternoon that’s somehow simultaneously boring and enraging,” said regretful fool who now has two dozen cinnamon donuts on his hands, Ryan Castillo. “I’m proud to say we got through it, and we’re even still together and everything. Sure, my clothes are wet, I’m freezing, and I’ve somehow survived carrying 60 pounds of apples all day with my only nutrients coming from hot chocolate and maple syrup candy, but I’ll be damned if we didn’t get 200 of basically the same photo, which only my mom will be happy to comment on.”

Other couples who have subjected themselves to similar ventures offered tips for persisting in future inevitable occasions.

“When me and Sadie first met we thought it would be cute to visit a pumpkin patch out in the sticks, and learned our lesson the hard way,” said person who’s better for it now, Deandra McCombs. “Fall activities can be survived, it’s just important to keep the basics in mind — stay hydrated, locate all bathrooms and exits immediately, and bring her a heavy jacket no matter what she or your weather app says. The rest is up to God.”

Romance experts confirmed that engaging in seasonal activities with significant others results in experiences that are “technically nice but objectively awful.”

“Every fall, millions of couples everywhere make plans amongst themselves to visit and engage in photogenic activities, but have no idea what they’re getting themselves into,” said couples therapist and thrice-divorced woman, Dr. Patty Juliano. “At best, couples can expect a decent photo or, in some cases, a few bites of a pumpkin spice creme brulee donut, or something. Many, however, experience irritation, moodiness, and an inability to see their significant other as sexually desirable after having witnessed them become incomprehensibly lost in a corn maze for upward of 35 minutes.”

At press time, Castillo destroyed tickets he procured for a seven-hour long steam-powered train ride through the countryside and instead plans to enjoy his time masturbating, and rewatching The Office in a room with WiFi and heat.

Photo by Dom Turek.

Opinion: For the Last Goddamn Time, We’re Not a Ska Band. We’re the London Philharmonic Orchestra

Posted on by Peter Woods

Alright, listen. I’m sick of dealing with this over and over again, so I’m setting the record straight for good right now. Every couple of months some yahoo comes in off the street and makes the same ridiculous claim and I just need everyone to collectively pull their head out of their ass and stop wasting my time.

Here it is: we’re not a ska band. We’re the London Philharmonic Orchestra.

And I know what all of you are about to say. I’ve heard every single argument and none of it makes sense. Yes, I understand that we have way more than four people on stage who all wear the same black and white outfit and some of them play trombone. That does NOT make us a ska band. Lots of musical groups have trombones and most of them play music that isn’t ska.

I can’t believe I need to spell this out, but you have to play ska music to be a ska band. This should not be hard.

Like, honestly. If we were a ska band we’d be called something moronic like The London Philharmonic Orchest-ska. And yes, you can use that. I know you want to.

Also, I think it’s incredibly insulting that you all keep telling me that I’m “The Bosstone” of this ska band. First, were not a ska band. Second, there is only one Bosstone and he’s the guy that stands off to the side at Mighty Mighty Bosstones and skanks while the rest of the band plays music. He doesn’t do anything besides dance. He’s completely superfluous.

I, on the other hand, am the conductor. I don’t “dance” while I’m up here. I’m conducting the orchestra and tell them what to do.

And the fact that you think this is how I dance really shows how little you think of me.

So that’s it. We’re an orchestra. We play classical music. So please stop screaming “pick it up” over and over again during this Haydn symphony and let us get back to the concert.

Fest Security Accidentally Lets 40 Different Guys Who Look Like Chuck Ragan Backstage

Posted on by Goodrich Gevaart

GAINESVILLE, Fla — Volunteer security guards at The Fest accidentally let upward of 40 different guys who look like local music mainstay Chuck Ragan backstage at Bo Diddley Plaza without proper credentials, according to sources that also look like Chuck Ragan.

“No one wants to be the one who asked Chuck for his wristband when he’s trying to get ready for the show. Not that he would be mean about it, we just don’t like rustlin’ a fellas flannel down here,” said security volunteer Aaron Nichols. “Ya’ know, I probably let about ten guys backstage myself. They had beautiful lookin’ beards and strong forearms and they gave me a nod with confidence so I let ‘em in. It’s too late to tell if they’re not Chuck Ragan, but better safe than sorry.”

Members of The Fest production team did their best to clear the area of non-Chuck Ragans after the backstage area became overcrowded.

“I got a call on the walkie that said a buncha’ bearded guys in flannel were taking up space at the main venue’s backstage area, trading fishing tips and taking whiskey shots in honor of the ocean’s ceaseless majesty,” said Fest Co-Producer Megan Vittles. “So we tried to get everyone to show us ID. Most of them had a fishing license, but only one of them was supposed to be back there. I don’t know how this keeps happening every year.”

Not every musician playing The Fest was happy about the mass exodus of guys that looked like Chuck Ragan from backstage.

“They fuckin’ kicked me out right before I was supposed to play!” said a visibly aggrieved Tim Barry. “I don’t have no ID because I don’t need one riding the rails down here and ain’t no person got the right to tell my free-spirit ass where he is or isn’t supposed to be.”

At press time, security is dealing with an issue involving numerous gangly, visibly anxious, awkward guys who look like Tin Tin with glasses hanging out backstage at the Chris Gethard comedy show.

Ouch: The Police Wanted Poster for Me Described My Beard as “Patchy”

Posted on by Rob Steinberg

Is this some kind of sick joke? After another fun night of delinquency I woke up this afternoon to stroll down my neighborhood only to be personally insulted on paper taped to every light post. This is cruel and unusual punishment.

Look, fine, whatever, so I set fire to some ATM machines and broke into cages at the zoo. I’m not defending that. What I am defending the weeks I put into growing my facial hair. My beard isn’t patchy. It’s very even and thick. The dense hairs are spread evenly across my chin like cream cheese on a bagel. This is my first attempt at a beard and I think it looks pretty good.

That police sketch is terrible. What art school dropout did they hire to draw that? They should be drawing caricatures on a boardwalk. And what’s with the acne? IF I had zits, which I do NOT, they would be covered by my beard, which is thick and perfectly groomed, thank you very much.

Whoever the witness that snitched on me is, they must need glasses or something. Did they not see how long the hairs are? If it was those security cameras then they better put more money in for better resolution. It would be awful if some loser who was clinging to some scraps on his face were to be framed for what was in my opinion the coolest series of crimes in history.

If my beard is patchy, then why do I have so many crumbs stuck in it? That’s the sign of some grown out facial hair. My beard is so thick, you could stick your fingers through it and get stuck. Just like what happened when I was petting that Bison I drugged.

If you don’t take down these posters I will sue. My parents live in this town and it would break their hearts to walk down the street and have the city falsely announce to the world that I can’t pull off adult facial hair. I know my libel laws.

I’ll see you in court. I’m sure you’ll recognize me, I’ll be the one in the prisoner’s jumpsuit with the amazing beard.

Cute Skeleton on Bench Outside of Library Actually Anti-Homeless Architecture

Posted on by V.F. Thompson

KALAMAZOO, Mich. — A skeleton mistaken for a seasonal decoration at a local library is suspected to be an architectural ploy designed to prevent houseless residents from resting in a supine position for any amount of time.

“I, for one, love the skeleton. It’s nice to see the city taking steps to keep our little community looking prim and proper and pleasing,” said concerned resident Nimby Reagan. “Those skeletons are just so festive, don’t you think? And not to mention they act as nice little accouterments to make sure that city infrastructure is being used for its intended purpose. Between that and the spike-covered jack-o-lanterns lining the enclosed porch, this space is looking better than ever.”

Others in the community sense more sinister motivation behind the decor.

“I obviously don’t want to get too political, but it’s obvious what they’re doing, isn’t it?” said a librarian who asked to remain anonymous. “People tend to congregate out there, the library is a safe space where people can come and seek shelter, and the bench right outside just so happens to be taken up by one of those skeletons? I knew something was up after the sharps disposal thing in the bathroom was replaced with a candy corn mosaic of Henry Ford.”

When asked for comment about their placement of the skeleton, city representative Clark Drummond was noticeably nervous.

“Uh, the city is obviously working to solve the homeless crisis, and these kinds of baseless spurious accusations are just fostering more division among everyone,” he explained. “Mayor Anderson and the City Commission are working around the clock to address the problem, and the idea that we would intentionally make the city a more hostile environment is ridiculous. Those skeletons are about good, wholesome family fun! They also release a noxious gas any time the bench has weight on it for more than 15 minutes, but that’s just funny.”

At press time, the skeleton located in front of the State Theatre was adorned with a little skeleton dog in a costume.

You’re Welcome: We Wrote Lyrics to a Bunch of Explosions in the Sky Songs

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Have you ever caught yourself thoroughly enjoying an Explosions in the Sky track and thought there might be something lacking? Like, I don’t know, lyrics? Us too. Anyway, it’s totally understandable why a band would just forgo lyrics altogether. After all, most bands just slap words together last minute. Not us, though. We have standards.

We spent almost an entire hour and a half writing actual words to a select few of their songs that you can easily use to follow along with at home. You can thank us later. So without further ado, here are the official lyrics to a bunch of EITS songs. Also, you’re welcome.

“First Breath After Coma”
Your first breath after coma
Was a relief to us all
Thought you were gone for good
After I rammed you with my car

[Gang vocals]
Coma, coma, coma
Please come home-a

Battered, bruised, and beaten
I nearly sent you to your end
But instead you fell into a coma
Hope we can still be friends

[Gang vocals]
Coma, coma, coma
Please come home-a

“Your Hand In Mine”
Your hand, my hand
Let’s put that shit together
Tonight will be special
As I destroy you in our weekly arm wrestle

The mood is just right
For this hand-to-hand fight
We’ll battle to the death
Or at least ‘til we’re out of breath

“Welcome, Ghosts”
Whoa oh oh
Welcome ghosts!

Welcome ghouls and welcome ghosts
You’re here because my seance worked
And now you’re haunting my house
All because I sacrificed a live mouse

Whoa oh oh
Welcome ghosts!

You’re welcome to spook us here
Or scare anyone far and near
We’ll forever feel your presence
Because unfortunately I can’t reverse this seance

“Six Days At The Bottom Of The Ocean”
It’s been…
Six days since our ship sank to the bottom of the ocean
Five days since you told me you loved me
Four days since we ran out of things to talk about
Three days since we ran out of food entirely
But it’ll still be one week ’til I say I’m sorry for crashing our vessel in the middle of the sea

Six days stranded in the middle of the ocean
Five days since we almost cannibalized each other
Four days since we completely lost our minds
But it’ll still be one week ’til I say I’m sorry for crashing our vessel in the middle of the ocean

You’re Welcome: We Wrote Lyrics to a Bunch of Explosions in the Sky Songs

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Have you ever caught yourself thoroughly enjoying an Explosions in the Sky track and thought there might be something lacking? Like, I don’t know, lyrics? Us too. Anyway, it’s totally understandable why a band would just forgo lyrics altogether. After all, most bands just slap words together last minute. Not us, though. We have standards.

We spent almost an entire hour and a half writing actual words to a select few of their songs that you can easily use to follow along with at home. You can thank us later. So without further ado, here are the official lyrics to a bunch of EITS songs. Also, you’re welcome.

“First Breath After Coma”
Your first breath after coma
Was a relief to us all
Thought you were gone for good
After I rammed you with my car

[Gang vocals]
Coma, coma, coma
Please come home-a

Battered, bruised, and beaten
I nearly sent you to your end
But instead you fell into a coma
Hope we can still be friends

[Gang vocals]
Coma, coma, coma
Please come home-a

“Your Hand In Mine”
Your hand, my hand
Let’s put that shit together
Tonight will be special
As I destroy you in our weekly arm wrestle

The mood is just right
For this hand-to-hand fight
We’ll battle to the death
Or at least ‘til we’re out of breath

“Welcome, Ghosts”
Whoa oh oh
Welcome ghosts!

Welcome ghouls and welcome ghosts
You’re here because my seance worked
And now you’re haunting my house
All because I sacrificed a live mouse

Whoa oh oh
Welcome ghosts!

You’re welcome to spook us here
Or scare anyone far and near
We’ll forever feel your presence
Because unfortunately I can’t reverse this seance

“Six Days At The Bottom Of The Ocean”
It’s been…
Six days since our ship sank to the bottom of the ocean
Five days since you told me you loved me
Four days since we ran out of things to talk about
Three days since we ran out of food entirely
But it’ll still be one week ’til I say I’m sorry for crashing our vessel in the middle of the sea

Six days stranded in the middle of the ocean
Five days since we almost cannibalized each other
Four days since we completely lost our minds
But it’ll still be one week ’til I say I’m sorry for crashing our vessel in the middle of the ocean

Hungover Hardcore Singer Asks the Motherfuckers In Back To Shut the Hell Up For a Minute

Posted on by James Knapp

MANCHESTER, N.H. — Dan Levitton, lead vocalist for touring hardcore band Weekend Proposal, told the “motherfuckers” in the back to “just, like, shut up for a minute,” almost immediately after taking the stage during a recent show, confused sources confirmed.

“I’ve been waiting to go off to this band for so long. I really wanted to make the band feel welcome and help bring up the energy at the show. But when I saw [Levitton] walk out holding a bottle of Pedialyte and wearing sunglasses indoors I knew something was wrong,” recalled one of the so-called motherfuckers in the back, Jamie Reisinger. “Then when he got to the mic he was barely audible, he was speaking in a low mumble and asked for all the house lights to be turned off. We mostly had to gather from context what he was saying but it pretty soon became clear he probably needed to go lie down for a while.”

Venue custodian Herbert Graves expressed little sympathy for the singer’s impaired state.

“These punk kids are a bunch of fucking pussies. I’ve been hungover every day I’ve come to work for thirty-six years and it ain’t ever stopped me from doing my job,” said Graves while reading an old Hustler in the janitor’s closet. “All these bands gotta do is yell and dance around like a bunch of asssholes and you’re telling me they can’t even do that after one or two dozen beers. I tell ya, it’s fucking pathetic.”

Following his refusal to do any encores, Levitton explained his behavior while lying, face down, on the backstage bathroom floor.

“Oh god, everyone please shut the fuck up. I can hear my forehead punching itself,” moaned the singer through a spittle of lingering vomit. “This show absolutely sucked. Why were all those motherfuckers so goddamn loud? The clapping and the yelling, nobody needs that. I need to quit this band and start an indie pop project, then I’ll never have to deal with this agonizing bullshit ever again.”

At press time, Levitton had slightly recovered from his hangover before making it much worse upon discovering forty-eight drunk texts to his ex-partner.