We Taste-Tested These White Wines and Now We’re Better Than You

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

Power to the people! ACAB! Eat the rich! That’s what we would have told you 30 minutes ago, but we just taste-tested some white wines and now we’re plain ol’ better than you. Lick our boots, peon, while we indulge in a smorgasbord of the finest whites this Sheetz has to offer.

There is perhaps no greater sign of sophistication in modern society than an appreciation for white wine. But how do you know if you’re drinking the rankest cat piss they can legally bottle, or a fine, crisp beverage suitable for a day punting on the Thames? In the interest of both culture and science, we taste-tested the following white wines to find out, but all we discovered was that we’re better than you.

Sheetz Les Belles Vignes Sauvignon Blanc: At first, we were like, “What’s the cheapest with the highest alcohol content?” After finding a $5 bottle that was 26% that changed to, “Sheetz made a fucking wine?” But after a few sips, we felt something… enlightening. It’s making us want to use terms like “bright” and “oaky” but mostly we’re just wondering why we devalue ourselves by hanging out with you. No offense, but now you seem a bit callow and homespun.

Cupcake Pinot Grigio: When we got this bottle, the cupcake seemed cute and reminded us to pick up some Hostess Sno Balls in the next aisle over. Now that we’ve had a few glasses, we see how jejune it is to select one’s refreshment based on a cartoon label. It’s the kind of thing we’d expect from you, frankly. Fortunately, this wine-tasting has helped us to learn that it’s a perfectly fine thing to accept the flaws of one’s social inferiors and even tolerate their company for short periods of time.

Lisboa Vinho Verde: Ah, Lisbon. Have you ever been? Oh, you simply must. Actually, no. You should probably stay at home with your Oreos and your PlayStations. That would suit you. Leave us to our memories of the Lisboetas dancing in the square.

Weinhenst Riesling: The simple refreshing pleasure of the humble Riesling, gentlest and warmest of the dessert wines. We’d love to teach you more about it, but we have these tickets to “Die Fledermaus” at the Met and must be on our way. Hand us our top hats, would you? Make haste, and there may be a shiny farthing in it for you!

Agro de Pezeren Bazán Verdequito Albariño (1997): You’ll never have even heard of this, you knave. Now get out of our way, lest we strike you with our walking sticks. To the opera! And more white wine! And fuck you!

Metalhead Hospitalized for Nerve Damage in Neck Just From Thinking About Corrosion of Conformity Reissue

Posted on by Heather Cook

RALEIGH, N.C. — Local metalhead Damien Walsh is recovering at the Holly Hill Hospital after suffering severe nerve damage in his neck from visualizing himself ferociously headbanging to Corrosion of Conformity’s reissue of “Blind,” sources confirmed.

“When I heard Corrosion of Conformity was finally repressing ‘Blind,’ I couldn’t stop imagining myself doing rapid-fire figure eights,” said Walsh while a nurse adjusted his neck brace. “The next thing I know, there’s a searing pain in my neck like I just headbanged myself into total whiplash, but I didn’t even move a muscle. Even my arms are a little tender from picturing myself throwing up horns non-stop while those bass lines rip through my core. If my body can be in this much pain just from thinking about the record, then I can only imagine that I’ll absolutely die when that sucker is officially released.”

Walsh’s son, Alex Walsh, allegedly had to spring into action after realizing his father was in need of medical attention.

“When a blood curdling scream erupted from my Dad’s bedroom followed by the thud of his body hitting the floor, I thought maybe he fainted because he read that Slayer was already reuniting or something,” said the younger Walsh. “I knew what was wrong almost immediately. I told him he’s too old to be thinking about headbanging like that. His body might have been able to handle the hype in the ‘80s, but now that old goat pulls a muscle just from humming ‘Vote with a Bullet.’”

According to a medical expert at Holly Hill Hospital, Dr. Lydia Knight, this disorder is rare but not abnormal amongst the aging metal community.

“We call this condition Imaginative Cervical Radiculopathy, and it’s not uncommon during major metal album releases in quarantine,” said Knight. “The patient has so much pent up energy from not being able to release it in the pit that the emotional intensity is enough to manifest itself into a vicious bangover. I’ve seen similar cases amongst other scenes, like ska punks suffering from tendonitis after restlessly envisioning themselves skanking.”

At press time, Corrosion of Conformity’s PR representative was heard begging Walsh not to imagine himself in a wall of death or it might actually kill him.

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Opinion: I Love Graffiti but Only in Neighborhoods I Don’t Live In

Posted on by Jus Kaplan

Graffiti is art. Period. It’s a wonderful form of creative expression that brings much needed life to the sterile walls and boring blocks of apartments that can make urban living so monotonous. Ya know, as long as it’s nowhere near the three-story brownstone I just bought with my parent’s hard-earned money.

Don’t get me wrong, I would love to wake up one morning and find a genuine Banksy spray painted on my front door. That would probably double the value of my house! I’d even be okay with discovering an original Keith Haring mural under the wallpaper in my kitchen during a renovation, like those lucky bastards did in Tribeca. That would be epic. But if I ever catch some commoner scribbling illegible letters onto the bus stop terminal down the street, ooh boy. Now, I’m not claiming to be some tough guy, but when I’m absolutely forced to I will not hesitate to call 911.

That said, if I later found out they’re verified on TikTok, perhaps I’d pay their bail. But only if they swore to do a custom commission on the side of my second home that complies with the strict regulations of my HOA.

Just to clarify, I’m not some typical stuck up gentrifier with a trust fund and a Tesla. I drive a Nissan Leaf. But I’m also something of a graffiti artist, myself. I used to make custom stickers and put them on the back of stop signs near every Whole Foods in Manhattan. They said “Give Peas A Chance” with a cute graphic of baby vegetables holding hands. Tragically, my career as a guerrilla visual artist was cut short when a security guard caught me and said I could face a small fine if I didn’t remove my stickers.

After apologizing profusely, I took home a valuable lesson. Graffiti is beautiful and should be celebrated by all who can monetize it. Otherwise, it’s purely vandalism and has no place near my properties.

Original Misfits Reunite to Perform Temper Tantrum at Costco

Posted on by Mark Roebuck

LOS ANGELES — Fans of the Misfits were thrilled yesterday as the original lineup of the highly influential punk band reunited to verbally harass a manager at a local Costco, confused shoppers confirmed.

“I couldn’t believe it. I’m just grocery shopping, and then suddenly there’s Danzig laying into this poor guy about how he’s not a sheep and won’t wear the mask. It was amazing,” said Misfits fan Phoebe Cook, who was present for the spontaneous reunion. “Before I could even snap a picture, Jerry Only was in the mix, complaining about his debit card getting declined. And then maybe I should play the lotto today, because I’ll be goddamned if Doyle didn’t show up a second later screaming about the bad wheel on his shopping cart. It was insane. I didn’t make it to Chicago to see them at Riot Fest, but at least I got to see them all yell at the Costco worker today.”

Glenn Danzig, frontman for the iconic band, addressed the rumors that this was a planned event.

“This was just a spur-of-the-moment thing,” said Danzig while loading a 500-ounce box of Franken Berry into a custom Scion. “Yeah, it felt great to all be together again, really bringing down the house, but by no means are we taking this act on the road. There are plenty of Costcos, or even Sam’s Clubs, that would love to have us come and make their store greeter cry. But no, I need to focus on my next project. My Elvis covers album was such a hit that I decided to start writing original Elvis songs and performing them as the King himself.”

The Costco employee tasked with getting the Misfits to leave the store confirmed that the unit had an undeniable rapport.

“I’ve escorted a lot of angry men from this store, but these guys were something different,” said Don Gilbert, a 21-year-old completely unfamiliar with the band. “They really had great chemistry. Their complaints were similar to so many complaints I’ve heard before, but they just brought such passion and personality to them. I did see some infighting when they were in the parking lot; the short one kept saying the tall, ghoulish looking dude still owes him a Subway sandwich, but I left them to settle it on their own. I clock out of here in 10 minutes.”

As of press time, Michale Graves was spotted at the Costco asking for a job application.

Supreme Court Allows Texas to Devolve into Mad Max Hellscape

Posted on by James Knapp

WASHINGTON, D.C — The Supreme Court of the United States recently decided, after allowing a law banning all abortions after six weeks, that the State of Texas is free to plummet into full-on apocalypse mode, sources who have no personal stake in any of this confirmed.

“By not interfering with the enactment of this new law, not only have we upheld the Constitution, but we’ve also allowed Texas to retain its freedom. Specifically, the freedom to be the shittiest hellhole it possibly can be,” explained accused sexual predator Brett Kavanaugh. “By making it illegal for women to get abortions long before most are even aware they’re pregnant, even in cases of rape, incest or threat to the health of the mother, Texans now have the opportunity to realize their state’s true Thunderdome potential. If you thought people stockpiling gasoline when Texas made driving a hybrid car a felony was crazy, boy, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Many Texans expressed support for their newly enacted subjugation.

“Look, I’m just a simple, red-blooded, God fearing American man. I like my beer cold, my cows slaughtered, and my women fertilized,” proclaimed Longview resident Billy “Bill” Gunderson. “If those hippie homos in California and New York think they can take away my right to force my ex-wives to pop out another Bill Jr., I’d like to see ‘em try. I was stockpiling ammo long before it was inevitable I’d soon have to fight off the roving gangs of leather-clad marauders that have been coming out of Houston. Yeehaw, assholes!”

Providers based out of Austin announced their intention to continue to offer abortion services to women seeking them despite the looming armageddon.

“This is just the latest attempt the State and the courts have made to restrict the services we provide. We’ve had to fight before and I’ll be damned if we’re not gonna fight again now,” said Courtney Clemons, MD, from the newly constructed sniper’s nest on the roof of the Austin Planned Parenthood. “I’m not gonna lie, things are pretty bad now. Earlier today I saw some pro lifers affixing big metal spikes and a flamethrower to the front of a dune buggy. But I’m still pro choice, and right now I’m choosing to kick Immortan Greg Abbott right in his immortan dick.”

At press time, Texas legislators were finalizing a bill to eliminate sex education entirely, replacing it with a single viewing of the stoner comedy “Knocked Up.”

Just Because I’m Not the Merch Guy Doesn’t Mean You Can’t Try My Delicious Homemade Honey

Posted on by Mike Civins

Mmmm, where do you think you’re going? I see you pollinating my sweet golden honey with your eyeballs. Sure, you could buy a Porcelain Innards hoodie. They’re on stage now, right? Looks like they have a new album out, too. Yeah, they’re great. SUPER friendly. Didn’t make a peep when I set up next to their merch table. What? No, I’m not the merch guy. Well, what does that matter?! You can still try my delicious honey. Wait up!

Now, let’s get down to beeswax. Ha! That’s just my fun way of saying “business” that puts customers like you at ease. See? I could be a merch guy. Now eat my honey of unknown origin!

What’s it going to take to get my shimmering golden goo on that honeyless pink tongue of yours? I have tiny tasting strips I made from these flyers I found on the merch/honey table. The band doesn’t need ALL of them. Sure, you could spend your merch dollars on Porcelain Innards’ new split EP with Penetrating Chest Trauma, but it won’t taste nearly as exquisite as the mysterious sugary secretions you see before you. See, this is DIY honey. I made it in a basement. Super punk, right? Whereas I bet this split EP was made in some fancy, pretentious attic.

Alright, so how many jars will you be buying? May as well buy them all, and quickly. Who knows how long any of us has on this big blue marble, am I right? And based on the members of Porcelain Innards currently directing security my way, we don’t have a lot of time to finish this deal either.

Dude Runs Water for Three Seconds so Roommates Think He Washed His Hands

Posted on by Heather Cook

NORTH HALEDON, N.J. — Local man and filthy roommate Mickey Bedford was caught running the sink for a few short seconds on Tuesday evening in an attempt to dupe his roommates into thinking he washed his hands, suspicious sources confirmed.

“I’ve got this down to a science,” said Bedford while demonstrating his routine. “Run the tap for a few seconds, rustle the hand towel around, and then shake out my hands as I’m exiting the bathroom so it looks like I’m getting the excess water off of them. It’s really important to let the sound of the toilet flush die down before running the faucet so everyone can hear it clearly. My roommates don’t suspect a thing. If I take a dump, then I might even run the sink twice so my roommates think I double dunked my hands. It’s that extra precaution that really sells it.”

One of Bedford’s roommates, Tyler Wu, was not tricked by Bedford’s sly efforts.

“The other night, I caught him wiping his completely dry hands on his pants like he had just washed them,” said Wu. “He thinks he can fool us, but he doesn’t even keep soap on his side of the double sink. One time we had ribs for dinner and he stepped out of the bathroom with his hands still covered in barbecue sauce. At least, I really hope it was barbecue sauce. Come to think of it, he might have totally shit on his hands without washing them. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Dr. Emily Saunders, a professor of psychology at Yale University, was not surprised to hear of this behavior from men in their early twenties.

“Young men take a lot of liberties when it comes to embracing the freedom of now being an adult, and that includes bypassing most hygienic behavior,” said Saunders. “These walking petri dishes think that refilling their 3-in-1 body wash containers with water after they run out suffices as enough soap — once can work, but we’re talking two and three refills, here. One time I did a case study of a guy that thought spraying the underwear he had been wearing for two weeks with Febreeze counted as ‘doing laundry.’ I’ve never smelled anything so wretched that also had hints of lavender in my life.”

When asked how he plans on furthering his schemes in the bathroom, Bedford stated that he would test out how long he can get away without taking a shower by running the tub water for a minute.

I Was There When Hammer Hurt ‘Em

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

To live in changing times can feel like a curse. To understand the significance of history happening all around you is a difficult thing, and I should know. I was there when MC Hammer hurt ‘em, and that has shaped my entire life since.

When times of peril come around, we all think we will know what to do. But when I saw that look in Hammer’s eyes and I knew he was prepared to hurt ’em, I froze. I didn’t know how to stop him or even why Hammer was about to hurt ‘em. But it was no isolated incident. For all of MC Hammer’s massive, groundbreaking success in the world of pop rap and Addams Family-related promotional singles, he was constantly at the edge of snapping and hurtin’ ‘em.

Studio execs had to instruct his entourage to placate him and keep him from using his flashy dance moves from hurtin’ ‘em. After a Congressional investigation led by Tipper Gore on the subject of Hammer hurtin’ ‘em, all of the MC’s albums were required to have a special Parental Advisory sticker indicating that listening to this jam could lead to ‘em being hurt. And I was there, a witness to it all.

It is one of the great regrets of my life that I did not sufficiently make the case to Hammer why he should not hurt ’em. I often wonder if I had begged, if I had thrown myself at Hammer’s feet and pleaded, “Please, PLEASE, Hammer, don’t hurt ‘em,” would he have listened? It’s impossible to say. The moment of heroism I might have had has passed by. And besides, he was far too legit to quit, regardless of who was asking him to quit.

I still have nightmares of what happened, when I can sleep at all. The carnage, the violence, the giant pants. If I am remembered at all, it will be as the man who watched helplessly as Hammer hurt ’em. And did nothing.

Please, heed my words. If you ever see Hammer and he seems prepared to hurt ’em, don’t stand by, like me. Do something. The next time…you might be part of the ‘em that Hammer hurts.

Dog Embarrassed Punk Owner Keeps Dragging Asshole On Carpet

Posted on by John Danek

FRESNO, Calif. — Local golden retriever DeeDee is utterly ashamed at owner Ben “Stank Beav” Carlisle’s insistence on dragging his itchy, bare ass on their apartment’s carpet, sympathetic neighbors reported.

“The irony of this situation is certainly not lost on me, but I left barbaric behavior like dragging my private parts on the ground behind in obedience school,” lamented DeeDee, who spends most of his days meditating in his crate. “Benjamin could benefit from similar schooling. I’ve gone to great lengths to become a respected member of my community, yet my owner undermines all progress I make by vomiting in the apartment’s shared stairwell or routinely scratching cars in the parking lot with his 1992 Ford Tempo. At least he started bagging his own waste any time he craps outside. That was a whole ordeal.”

“Stank Beav” Carlisle defended his unorthodox methods of handling bodily needs.

“Sure, I used to handle things the way society wants me to — by scratching my anus with my index finger or the back of my thumbnail,” admitted Carlisle, who refuses to see a doctor out of opposition to western medicine and lack of health insurance. “But I found a better way, and I don’t care if it’s ‘not appropriate’ or ‘fucking disgusting’ or ‘leaving streaks that stink so bad the neighbors call the cops.’ I shred my shit on shag carpet and I’m set for hours. And you know what? I don’t really care for the judgmental way DeeDee cocks his head to the side while I do it. But he’s just a dumbass dog, probably has no idea what he’s even looking at.”

An obedience school teacher with decades of experience teaching thousands of dogs explained the difficulty that sometimes comes with a belligerent pupil.

“People always ask if pitbulls are the most difficult, or if poodles are really mean, but there’s only one type of student I’ve found to be entirely untrainable,” declared Anne Bowers, owner of the Puppy Prep Dog School. “And that is a human being. Specifically the rock and roll types. When I see those studded bracelets and tank tops held together with impractically large safety pins, I know I’m fucked. The dogs are usually fine, but how do you tell a grown adult to stop eating food off the floor and stop peeing on things to mark territory?”

DeeDee’s shame has worsened immensely, after Carlisle was thrown out of a punk show for repeatedly humping an acquaintance’s leg “as a joke.”

Joe Rogan Says in Lieu of Flowers Send Videos of a Tiger Fighting a Wolf

Posted on by Camden Brazile

AUSTIN — Media personality and podcast tycoon Joe Rogan tested positive for the coronavirus today, and urged his followers that, in lieu of flowers, they send videos of a tiger fighting a wolf.

“Please, fans, don’t worry about me. I have to ask that everyone resist the urge to mail me any Edible Arrangements, balloons, or flowers, and just videos of giant, crazy super predators fighting to the death,” Rogan said, to his fans and followers via Twitter. “I want to heal my mind and my brain first and foremost, and the only way to recover from within is to watch something badass like that. It gets me equal parts pumped and gives me a ton of good ideas for the next time I might have to move 580 pounds of body weight off of me at any given time.”

Rogan expanded on how this has affected his outlook of the vaccine and his career going forward.

“I’m glad I didn’t get vaccinated, because DMT trips when you’re sick hit so much harder, and plus, I’m not gonna take advice from any President who doesn’t have at least a green belt in Jiu-Jitsu,” Rogan said. ”I think for my next guest on the pod I’m going to have this bright light at the end of that tunnel I keep seeing. I wanna find out if it smokes or not.”

“Hey Jamie, can you pull up what heaven looks like?” he added.

At press time, Rogan insisted that if he were to unfortunately pass, that all his assets be awarded to whoever posted that “sick vid of an Orca ripping it’s trainer’s face off.”

Photo credit; Wikimedia