British Rapper Struggles to Find New Word That Rhymes with “Innit”

LONDON — UK-based rapper Ay Dele is struggling to write lyrics for his eagerly-awaited third album after his first and second albums, “Innit: Da’ Beginninit” and “Innit 2: We’z Doin’ Innit Again” have left him without any words to rhyme with his oft-used popular phrase “innit.”

“My rap career’s headed for da’ bin, mate, if I can’ fink of a new word to rhyme wif innit. S’what I want, s’what me fans want, no doubt,” said Dele from his home studio. “Maybe I’z put too many cream eggs in da’ innit basket, but me bank account ain’ had no problem wif it til now, bruv. I fink I jus’ gotta’ expand me horizons, ya? Wa’ if da language from dem elves in Lord of Da Rings got sum words rhyme with innit? Proper crossover appeal!”

Other MC’s in the UK are less concerned that Ay Dele is having issues after two albums of overloading songs with the common British slang term.

“He’s ran dat’ word inna’ da fuckin’ ground, mate! How you gon’ base ya whole career on one word dat everyone already be usin?’” said fellow London rapper and global star Stormzy. “Nex’ fing you know he’s gonna put a copyright on ‘bruv’ or ‘mate’ or ‘cuppa.’ Dele playin’ da rap game like it’s a fossil fuel or sumfin’.”

According to professor of Rap Studies and Linguistics at Cambridge, Nigel Wycome, Stormzy is not wrong in his metaphor.

“Slang terms like innit, dun kno, wagwan, they are all at risk of being overused to the point of excess if British rappers don’t start making up more catchy slang terms more often,” said Wycome. “If we don’t turn the corner on slang phrases soon, Ay Dele won’t be the only rapper who cannot find any more words to rhyme.”

At press time, Ay Dele was meeting with data scientists to develop an app called Rhymin’Bruv that can aggregate every combination of words in the English language and match them to a specific slang term.

Opinion: As a Progressive I Am Outraged by Texas, but as a Cowboys Fan, I Think This Is Our Year

What’s happening in Texas right now is deplorable and horrifying. The far-right extremism that has wormed its way to the top of the state is nothing less than an American version of the Taliban, and every sane American should be doing everything they can to reverse the Lone Star state’s recent laws on abortion, gun control, and voter restriction. That being said, I am a Cowboys fan, and I have to admit I’m pretty excited about this season.

Look, can’t a man put politics aside for a second and be excited? Look at how stacked our offense is! Our running back, QB, and receiving core is tops in the league and our coach has been to the goddamn promised land and won a goddamn Super Bowl! None of that changes the fact that a state government overturning Roe vs Wade is unconstitutional and immoral, but HOW BOUT DEM COWBOYS?! YEE HAAWWW!

Does the fact that Texans are happy that any idiot in their state can open carry a gun without a permit now churn my stomach? Of course it does. But I can’t overlook the fact that the excitement that sort of recklessness generates is going to show up in the stands.

I’m not saying I support the Texans who are excited about these laws in any way. But imagine for a second you were one of these people. You have a fucking gun, right out in the open. You’re at a Cowboy’s game in killer seats, thanks to the $10,000 bounty you received from ratting out your niece for getting an abortion. You’re on top of the world! And you’re exactly the kind of fan I want to stand next to while cheering our boys on to victory. I hate why you’re so excited, but I’m loving the result!

Look, obviously this sort of far-right nonsense cannot stand and I feel as compelled as the next lefty to do something about it. I’m just saying it can wait till the off-season. For now let’s just kick back, crack open a cold one, and watch a state drunk with power rally America’s greatest football team all the way to the big W. Trust me, if I know my fellow Cowboys fans, a post-Super Bowl win celebration is all Texas will need to realize what a mistake they made with that open-carry law.

COWBOYS!

Punk Sommelier Recommends Pairing Whippits with Unhealthy Outlook on Relationships

SIMI VALLEY, Calif. -— Punk sommelier and founder of Rotten Grape Vineyards, Terry “Tooth” Berkley recently shouted that the only good pairing is whippits and an unhealthy outlook on romantic relationships, sources who don’t remember asking confirmed.

“I’m just fucking tired of hearing my normie contemporaries suggest boring shit like Cabernet Sauvignon and aged cheddar. Like, yeah I guess that tastes good and gets you a little buzzed, but it can’t get you high for a total of two seconds like whippits can, or ruin someone else’s life in a way that can mask your pain like dating with zero self awareness,” stated Berkley from a severely damaged bean bag chair. “The important thing to remember is that there is a proper way to pair these treasures. The whippits have to be consumed frequently over the span of multiple years, and the relationships have to be short and consecutive.”

Former ska punk and actual sommelier Leah Harrison had this to add to the topic.

“That’s not what a sommelier does, that’s what an asshole does. Like okay, I guess I can understand the whippits part because I’m not one to judge someone’s drug use as long as they are being safe, but like, how is that a comparable substance to wine?” said Harrison. “Also is Tooth trying to say that being a manipulator is comparable to cheese? How are those the same? One is literally a concept, and the other is old milk.”

Berkley’s ex-girlfriend Amanda Garrett took less issue with the details of what constituted a sommelier, and more issue with his general morals.

“Yeah, Tooth tends to do this. He’ll just find a new thing to pretend to be an expert on so that he can use it to justify being a shitty person. I honestly don’t think that asshole has ever had wine that wasn’t made in a jar or a tub,” she explained. “Also, I heard that creep is apparently giving tours of his vineyard? It’s literally just a room full of empty cartridges. I don’t know if it counts as a tour if it’s only one person at a time and you’re trying to sleep with them, but that’s just my two cents.”

Rotten Grape Vineyards will start hosting group tours starting next month; appointments can be made via Feeld.

“The Suicide Squad” Was a Lot of Fun. Here’s Seven Things I Hated About It

Last weekend, I paid a visit to my local cinema complex to see James Gunn’s comic book-inspired adventure romp, “The Suicide Squad.” And I must say, I had the most fun I’ve had in a long time at a movie! It conjured giddy childlike excitement, the likes of which I haven’t experienced since McDonald’s brought the McRib back.

Unfortunately, my hardened shell of cynicism does not allow for such emotions as joy and sincerity. So if you’re like me and are suspicious of glee, then buckle up and join me in highlighting all of the hateable parts of this enjoyable film!

The previews were way too long. Hey James Gunn, I didn’t pay my hard-earned money to watch five hours of movie trailers. Get your shit together and make with the storytelling!

Last I checked, sharks can’t talk. I can’t believe I have to point this out, but here we are. Suspension of disbelief, you say? How about suspension of the laws of nature. I went scuba diving once. I saw a shark. I didn’t sit down and have a conversation with it.

Savant saves Weasel from drowning in the ocean, but doesn’t even attempt CPR. Way to go the extra mile, Savant. Jesus. Remind me not to call you next time a rodent is in the lurch.

Pete Davidson. Stick with the yuck-yuck, comedy boy!

John Cena’s arms distract me from the dialogue. Cena’s muscle hunk physique made me feel terrible about my own body. James Gunn should have had the decency to CGI those tree trunk arms out of the final cut.

The popcorn guy at the theater was kind of mean to me. Not mean, per se. He didn’t actually say anything outwardly rude or make a face or anything. But I definitely got a vibe from him. Thanks a lot, James Gunn!

Does Ratcatcher 2 catch rats, or just conjure them out of thin air? The reason I ask is because no city has that many rats. If they did, I think they’d have more of a rat problem than a giant starfish problem. Yuck!

All in all, I had a blast at this movie, and that’s the main reason why I will not be seeing it again. Unless of course it is to point out more giant plot holes for my YouTube channel, in which case I would look forward to that immensely.

Trump to Honor the Brave Men and Women Who Fought During the Upcoming Holyfield/Belfort 9/11 Fight

HOLLYWOOD, Fla. — Former president and disgraced for-profit university owner Donald Trump revealed that he will commemorate the brave men and women who fought during the 9/11 boxing match between Evander Holyfield and Vitor Belfort at the prestigious Hard Rock Hotel and Casino, MAGA fans who can’t wait to memorialize confirmed.

“It’s going to be a tremendous event where me and my favorite son Don Jr. will honor the first responders who will undoubtedly take care of whomever gets knocked out first. Probably Holyfield. He’s almost 60, right?” said Trump before letting an incoming call from Ted Cruz go to voicemail. “We’re also planning to celebrate the courageous men and women who selflessly stepped in to work out long enough to get into boxing shape, like Evander and that other guy. Not only that, but I plan to say a few words about the exact events that unfolded 20 years ago. You know, like how after the Twin Towers fell, Trump Tower became the tallest building in downtown Manhattan by default. Overall, it was a great day for me, personally.”

Fans of boxing and Republican administrations are pumped up for the otherwise tragic day.

“This combines everything I love: 9/11, the 45th president, and men fist-fighting for my entertainment,” said conservative blogger Jake Thornwell. “Also, the Pay-Per-View fight is only $49.99, which just so happens to be the exact amount of money I always set aside annually for my 9/11 memorial budget. Last year I bought 50 bucks worth of Budweiser beers because they had American flags on each can. It’s like I always say. The best way to never forget is to get blackout drunk!”

Experts weighed in on the bizarre move from the ex-president.

“Everyone has their own unique coping mechanisms when dealing with tragedies,” said psychologist Gwendolyn Armstrength. “For instance, some people are attending a 9/11 memorial service in New York City; George W. Bush will paint a few pieces of weird art commemorating the day; and Trump is going to talk shit live on air about how the 2020 election was rigged. We just have to understand we’re all coming from different places.”

At press time, Trump announced that he will also provide commentary on an upcoming WWE wrestling match to commemorate the men and women who fought to defend our country by attacking our country on January 6, 2021.

6 Members of My Family That Have Gone Missing but I Guess Don’t Merit a Podcast

True crime has been one of the biggest forces in pop culture for years now and shows no sign of slowing. People are fascinated by the unsolved and inexplicable murders, disappearances, and scams of the world, but not so much by the six members of my family who have gone missing and don’t seem to merit a podcast. And they are:

#1: My Cousin Alan: My cousin Alan was a good guy. A nice guy. Not the kind of guy you think would just disappear off the face of the Earth after going for a hike by himself in late summer ‘89. That said, I have to admit that it does seem pretty cut and dry that he probably wandered off a path and died of dehydration, or got eaten by coyotes or something. I can’t imagine a 10-episode podcast series would be able to come up with anything more significant than “bring a compass, we guess?”

#2: My Sister Daphne: Daphne was a cheerleader and volunteer in the community, and she went missing one mysterious, stormy day. It’s been years and not a single clue has ever emerged. Thing is, the cheerleading squad replaced her pretty easily and the volunteer group she worked with actually was kind of relieved, because she apparently was not a good worker at all. Not easy to come up with a hook when, frankly, she kind of sucked at most things.

#3: Fucking Ron: Fucking Ron was my fucking stepdad. I don’t really want to get into it, but he just…he just fucking sucked, you know? Mom’s better off without him and everyone is better off with a podcast called something like “When a Jackass is No Longer Around.”

#4: My Other Cousin Alan: I guess this one is pretty weird, but I did have another cousin named Alan who also hasn’t been around in a long time. But is that really enough to base an entire dramatic narrative investigation around? Especially when I guess I could call his mom and see if he ever showed up. Not gonna, though.

#5: My Dog Chowder: Chowder was the light in any room he entered. A gorgeous Spaniel-mix, he excelled at fetching and showed great promise at someday being able to be around a vacuum cleaner without freaking out. I miss him every day, but a grown man crying over a missing dog’s leash isn’t really something NPR is going to wet themselves over.

#6: Me: Neighbors said I was always friendly. Kept to myself mostly. But since that quiet, gray day in April, I’ve been missing. I’m not at all sure anyone has noticed, and to be blunt, I myself am not entirely sure where I am right now. If you see me, can you give Sarah Koenig a call?

Dead Punk Identified By Tattoo Infections

HENDERSON, Nev. — A local punk found dead under an overpass with no phone or ID was quickly identified by friends after they recognized her distinct tattoo infections.

“As soon as I saw the familiar green pus oozing out of that Crass tattoo, I knew it was Lisa,” said Brianna “Barf” Weston, Lisa Moriarty’s longtime roommate. “I still remember the day she got that infection. The tattooer told her to keep the plastic wrap on for a few hours, but she took it off immediately and then fell asleep tattooed side down on a park bench that’s usually reserved for pigeons. It never looked the same after that.”

Moriarty’s many tattoo infections were instrumental in making a positive ID of her body, including the staph-infected F.O.A.D. tattoo on her neck, the MRSA-laden barbed wire around her wrist, and the Black Flag tattoo on her ass with one of the flags partially hanging from the epidermis.

“Finding out she died from blunt force trauma to the head and not from the severity of her multiple flesh-eating tattoo infections is nothing short of amazing,” said Daniel Aguirre, the medical examiner on the case. “Thirty-two years on the job and I thought I’d seen and smelt it all; but this was like inhaling a bag of feet wrapped in burning hair and stuffed into a wrestling mat. I had to wear the hazmat suit usually reserved for autopsying radiation victims.”

Friends and family of Moriarty wish she’d kept better care of herself while she was alive, but they’re thankful her piss-poor hygiene led to a proper burial.

“She was my best and worst customer,” said Tyrone Debellis, Moriarty’s friend and primary tattoo artist. “I would tell her to gently wash the tattoo with unscented antibacterial soap and stay out of the sun, but it looked like she used a Brillo pad and pond water and then set the tattoo on fire. She could make fresh ink look like it was 30 years old in a week. I’d never seen anything like it, and I hope to never again.”

At press time, Moriarty’s friends were seen planning to get matching tattoo infections in her honor.

How To Get More Acid When the Golden Gopher Who Defends the Moon Gate Won’t Let You Speak With the Prince of Stars

So, it’s all come down to this. Right at the peak of your trip, and just on the cusp of figuring out the secret of the immortal lake Satanists, you find yourself completely out of acid. But wouldn’t you know it, that goddamn greedy gopher is in your way again!

Well, never you worry. Here is a foolproof way to get more acid from the Prince of Stars.

First things first. You’re gonna need a way to break the spell from the Golden Gopher’s hypnotic fan dance. Fortunately, it has a weakness for the tonic of the ancients. Procure the powdered bones of your enemies, and mix them with a 40 oz. of Steel Reserve. This should cause the gopher to abandon his attempts to mesmerize you and cause it to return to slumber under the apartment stairwell from whence they manifested.

Now that the Moon Gate is open to you, you must know the exact incantation to access it, or else you may exact the ire of the chum goblins from the realm of 426-B. To pass the gate, you must demand entry with thirty or forty firm knocks and extoll the sacred password, “Hey, Jeremy, you up?”

If the ritual is completed to perfection, then the Prince of Stars will accept your entry.

The Prince has many rules. First, don’t stare at his sweatpants; they contain the souls of those who dared doubt his champion, the Colossus of Taco Bell Wrappers. Also, the Beacon of Gentle Testicle Grazes is crashing there for a few days, so don’t try to flirt back with her.

Lastly, the Prince will demand payment for the acid you have sought, which can be handled in two ways. Either you may exchange the requested amount of eleven newt skins, or wield nearby the Throne of Kitchenette and make haste with the goods.

Now that you have left the moon dimension, you’re free to resume consuming that sweet acid. Which is good, because you’re sobering up and are pretty sure you just hit your drug dealer with a dining room chair and stole his LSD. Well, whatever, back to the doom portal. Huzzah!

Stoner Proves Weed Is Not Addictive By Going Without It for 12 Entire Hours

KALAMAZOO, Mich. — Local stoner Dave Truman set out to prove to friends, family, and acquaintances that weed is not addictive by abstaining from the narcotic for 12 consecutive hours, disinterested sources confirmed.

“I smoke weed to keep me calm, and a ton of my friends always text me about it like, ‘you’re definitely addicted,’ ‘quit stealing money from me to buy weed,’ and ‘you’re sweating so much because you’re having withdrawals,’” said Truman between alarmingly long bong rips. “It was pissing me off, so I decided to prove that I could cut it out of my life whenever I wanted to. Look what happened! With the help of a few edibles, I made it half of a day without touching weed. I proved a lot to myself, and I think I proved a lot to my so called ‘loved ones.’”

Truman’s friend J.P. Baldwin was one of the few not impressed with his friend’s death-defying experiment.

“I know for a fact that he slept for the majority of those 12 hours because he stole a handful of my Xanax and then just passed out on my couch,” said Baldwin. “When he woke up and realized that none of us had any weed, he looked like he was about to puke. I’ve never seen anyone hold back tears because they couldn’t get a little high from skunk weed. But when he passed the 12-hour mark of sobriety he really became insufferable. He made it seem like it was his choice to abstain, and not just poor planning on his part.”

Cannabis Culture Analyst April Williamson admitted that Truman’s drug of choice was a tricky one to classify.

“The fact you could ‘quit’ cannabis at any time used to be a big selling point for the drug. We’ve all watched ‘Half Baked,’” said Williamson while rolling a comically large joint inside a piece of construction paper. “That said, we may re-brand marijuana as more and more stoners across the nation refuse to go without it for anything more than six or seven hours. Lots of users across the country are almost making it through their entire workday without lighting up, and that’s pretty impressive if you ask me.”

At press time, Truman was at a local bar, laughing at a friend that was on his third beer of the night, while researching blacklight posters for his apartment on his phone.

Help! I Got My Tattoo of the Parental Advisory Sticker Removed and Now I Can’t Say Swear Words!

Drat! For once in my gadbum life, I was being responsible. I finally did the adult thing and paid a farking paunchload of cash to get this tattoo of the “parental advisory” sticker removed from my flunking stomach, and all of a sudden I can’t say any farking cuss words! Blazes!

Sure, this tattoo looked pretty honkin’ sick when I got it in high school. They say you should keep a drawing of your tattoo idea in your pocket for at least a year before deciding to get it. Well, I wrote down this idea in 8th grade and by 9th grade I still wanted it, which was at least three times that long.

However, as a self-respecting adult with a burgeoning career in movie theater hospitality, I decided it was time to get it laser removed. But now my ability to reprimand movie-talkers and movie-shushers alike has been majorly hindered. How will I be able to use verbose language to berate my more rambunctious clientele without my tenured affinity for the profane?! This is billshut!

Tipper Gore really muffed me on this one.

I’ve considered just getting the same tattoo again, but even then there’s no guarantee that would magically give me the ability to swear. I’m not really sure how this curse works. Is it like Frosty’s hat? Is it even a curse? If so, that would be pretty ironic.

Either way, I’m relegated to my fate. If I may never again be able to utter a curse word, then so be it. I will cast off my former identity as the coolest guy at this AMC still wearing a chain wallet and awaken reborn as a run-of-the-mill polo-wearing Joe who says good morning and means it. I’m not ditching the chain wallet, though.