Punk Jesus Turns Water Into Ramen

Posted on by Ryan Danley

NEW YORK — Local punk rocker and present-day messiah, Lenny “Resin” Jackson stunned the masses crashing at his squat by using his divine abilities to transform water into steaming bowls of cheap, salty sustenance, stoked onlookers reported, true believers confirmed

“Look, wine is cool and all, but have you ever been hungover and broke? People don’t need more booze—they need carbs to soak up the booze, man. And you can’t beat a steaming bowl of Nissin pork. And I got that shit on tap,” said Jackson, absentmindedly petting a stray cat. “I mean, my Dad gave me these powers for a reason. One time, I turned a whole bucket of hose water into enough ramen to feed all 12 of my homies after The Varukers’ reunion show. Fuck healing the sick—that’s the real work.”

Jackson is seen as the second coming of Christ to members of his crew, but some of them have grown a little weary of the routine.

“You know, back in our early 20s, it was rad that he could whip up a meal on the fly like that, but we’re all in our early 30s now, I need to watch my sodium intake, It just feels like someone with the power of God at his disposal could maybe conjure up something with a little protein. I’m looking for satiety at this point so I stop snacking so much,” said Jesse ‘Izzy” Iscariot, poking at a limp noodle. “Would it kill him to miracle up a rotisserie chicken? Man, what I wouldn’t give for some fresh vegetables. I swear, if I just had a few extra coins, I could get a real meal in this town.”

Biblical scholars are starting to uncover more evidence that Jackson may in fact be Christ resurrected.

“Jesus was known for casting out demons, and from what I know about Mr. Jackson he single-handedly ran 12 Nazis out of his local punk scene,” said Notre Dame Divinity Professor Angela Ingbar. “There are also stories that he fed over 5,000 punks simply be breaking the window of a local Whole Foods and looting the place. He also resurrected his old band The Shit Kickers, and despite the group being dead for years they are back and planning on releasing new music next year. Truly a miracle.”

At press time, Jackson was seen flipping tables in a bodega, furious over the price of sriracha.

How to Surprise Yourself With a Nice Dinner by Getting High and Forgetting You Made It

Posted on by Arielle Andreano

It’s 4/20, and you’re probably thinking, “Who cares, I already smoke weed every day,” right? Well, what if I told you that even the most seasoned of stoners could make their 4/20 celebrations magical and whimsical? Gone are the days of you thinking, “What’s so special about smoking a joint and watching Hot Fuzz when I do that every Sunday? How could I possibly make this 4/20 memorable?” I have come up with a foolproof method to inspire and delight yourself this and every 4/20.

Picture this: Miami, 2010, opening weekend of “Tron: Legacy.” I got stoned out of my butt to watch Thirteen from “House” drive cars made of light and decided to treat myself to some movie theater pizza. I ordered, they told me it would be 10 minutes, I paid, and, out of habit, I returned to my seat. About 20 minutes later, deep into a “Gnomio and Juliet” preview, my munchies said to me “man, a pizza would fucking slap right now.” And that’s when I remembered I already had one waiting for me.

Eating that surprise pizza at that hella-mid movie was one of the greatest experiences of my life, and I vowed to find a way to capture the magic for future celebrations.

Here’s how you’re going to surprise yourself with a nice dinner by getting high and forgetting you made it.

1. Choose a recipe
For obvious reasons we’re going to try and pick on that won’t burn easily. We’re not doing pizza, roasted veggies, or oven baked chicken wings unless you want to have to explain in court how you burned down an entire apartment complex. We’re going to lean heavily into the simmer. We’re talkin’ succulent soups, stews, and sauces.

2. Consume marijuana
While you’re cooking, you’re going to be smoking a joint or doing your edible of choice. Remember it’s 4/20, so leave those gentle sativas on the shelf. Today is the day to bust out that jar of Captain Junkie you haven’t touched since it made you freak out at that family brunch. Once you realize you’ve been mincing the garlic for an hour now, you know you’ve reached the optimal amount of stoned to forget you even cooked this meal in an hour.

3. Go down an ADHD rabbit hole
Once you get to the simmer stage, you’re going to either go on YouTube or Google for a deep dive. Here are some suggested topics: lesser-known Coppolas, the personal life section of Ralph Fiennes’ Wikipedia page, or anything at all relating to Walton Goggins. You will lose yourself in this, but eventually, your munchies will say, “Hey, I could really go for some shakshouka right about now.” At this point, you will smell the delicious scents from the kitchen, and your cravings will be instantly rewarded with perfectly simmered tomato-y goodness. You will probably burn your mouth, but it’ll be so perfect you won’t care. Enjoy. You deserve this.

4. Wait, is that the smoke detector?
Eventually, you’ll eat yourself into a wonderful slumber on the recliner, only to be rudely awakened by a life-saving device. Looks like you bumped the gas nozzle up to high on your way out of the kitchen again, and you have sauce-napped your way into an emergency. Grab your photo albums, small sentimental objects, and of course, your stash, then get the fuck out of there.

Local Potheads Go Door to Door Singing Stoner Metal Carols on 4/20

Posted on by Bobby Korec

PORTLAND, Ore. — A group of local potheads went door to door singing stoner metal carols to celebrate 4/20, confirmed sources peering outside their blinds.

“We do all the holiday classics, including Kyuss, Sleep, and a song from my band’s new demo,” said caroler Kyle Donovan while flipping to the next page of his song book. “All of our neighbors were clearly elated to see us. That is, the few that actually opened their doors after five straight minutes of ringing their bells and tapping on their windows. If they didn’t answer after that, we had no choice but to break in through the kitchen window. The holiday cheer must be spread one way or another. We did about 90 minutes per house which, now that I think about it, is probably not nearly enough time. Jeez, I hope no one felt like they were shortchanged when we were finished.”

Neighbors were admittedly more in the holiday spirit after a visit from the carolers.

“After their rendition of Bongzilla on my porch, I couldn’t wait to do my annual holiday tradition of smoking a joint, eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch straight from the box, and taking a three-hour nap in the middle of the day,” said Arthur Dwellers. “Hell, the performance even gave me the energy to put up my 4/20 tree this year. I’ll decorate it and put up the lights tomorrow. I’m wiped from the long day. Until then I’m going to watch the 24 hours of ‘Dazed and Confused’ marathon that TBS does every year.”

Experts warned that the caroling phenomenon isn’t exclusive to the marijuana-based holidays.

“Christmas and 4/20 are not the only national days of celebration you’ll see people go door to door belting out holiday-relevant tunes,” said music historian Kate Manzardo. “The Halloween carolers go around singing goth classics like Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy. The St. Patrick’s Day carolers sing a steady dose of Dropkick Murphys while absolutely shitfaced. And April Fool’s Day brings out carolers singing Weird Al and Tenacious D to their neighbors. Sure, people are fed up with having to deal with complete strangers on their stoops every holiday, but it’s the only way people remember when it’s Arbor Day or Thanksgiving.”

At press time, a rival group of 4/20 carolers were seen going door to door singing Phish and Grateful Dead songs to neighbors.

Opinion: Telling People Today Is Hitler’s Birthday and the Columbine Anniversary Is All the High I Need

Posted on by Dan Rice

I don’t mean to come off as preachy or superior, but I’ve always felt sorry for people who need to consume a substance to have a good time. It’s 4/20, and around the country, people are “celebrating” by getting “high” on a psychoactive chemical that sedates them and distorts their sense of reality, it’s sad. Me, I make my own good time. Yes sir, raining on other people’s parades by reminding them that today is actually Hitler’s birthday and the anniversary of the Columbine shooting is all the high I’ve ever needed.

It really saddens me that the youth of today think they need cannabis to cope when all you need to do is bum someone else the fuck out. They’ll never know the charge you can get out of harshing a stoner’s proverbial mellow, and it’s a tragedy. Enjoy your fleeting high, I’ll be making memories of ruining other people’s day that will last me a goddamn lifetime.

Life is so much richer when you make other people’s lives so much poorer. I’ll never forget 4/20/2017. I was at my usual coffee shop being waited on by the barista who still wore hemp jewelry for some reason. As she handed me my Americano she apologized for being “a little slow today,” and confided in me that she had eaten an edible that morning “to celebrate the holiday.” Evidently she trusted me not to narc on her, and I didn’t. What I did do was fire back “Oh, you mean HITLER’S BIRTHDAY? Cause that’s what today is!” I watched light leave her eyes, watched shame slowly wash over her face. She lost something in that moment, and you know where that something went? Right to me baby. Right to the goddamn king.

You know what she said? “I never even thought about Hitler having a birthday.” How fucking priceless is that?!

I had to work on 4/20 last year, but it didn’t slow my roll one bit. When my coworker made the mistake of small-talking me with “Bro, I can’t wait to get out of here and go celebrate with my bong!” I shot back “Wow Jeff, it’s pretty fucked up of you to celebrate Columbine like that, a lot of kids died.” As he desperately tried to backpedal I just walked away grinning ear to ear.

Oh, you think you’re safe from my bullshit? You’ve heard the Hitler/Columbine thing a million times? You’ve come to terms with it, have you? What about the Nicoll Highway collapse? What about the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, fuckface? There are only so many days in a year and bad shit happens on every one of them, I’ve got a million of these. Guess what, my grandmother died on 4/20. Tell me I’m lying, I fucking dare you.

This year 4/20 falls on Easter, and boy is my family in for it. When me and my cousins go for our “walk” I’m hitting them with every depressing 4/20 factoid I’ve got and a big heaping helping of “Here we are celebrating Easter when Christianity has killed more people than all wars combined” for dessert, all while Bogarting their precious joint. Oh, I do smoke. I just don’t NEED IT like you LOSERS!

Trump Presents Verizon Wireless Easter Egg Roll in Front of Newly Renamed TD Bank White House

Posted on by Zack Zagranis

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump delayed the annual White House Easter Egg Roll a in order to allow time to thank all the corporate sponsors who are making the event possible, confirmed multiple sources in fresh Comcast gear confirmed.

“Just weeks after making a historic deal with TD Bank to rebrand The White House, and this was a great deal people, one of the best deals in the history of America. A lot of people are saying historians love the deal and want to put it in books, I’m proud to announce that Verizon Wireless has agreed to sponsor this year’s Easter Egg Roll,” said the President wearing a Tesla hat and jacket. “In honor of this partnership, I’ve signed an executive order declaring the word ‘egg’ will now be spelled with five ‘g’s like Verizon’s lightning-fast 5G network. We love 5g, right folks? Now, let’s get these eggs rolling like Verizon rolls your minutes over from month to month with their new Unlimited Plus plan!”

Attendees of the inaugural TD Bank White House Easter Egg Roll sponsored by Verizon Wireless had mixed feelings about the President’s announcement.

“Usually, they give the kids a wooden egg as a souvenir, but this year, thanks to Verizon, they gave out brand new iPads, which is awesome,” said Buck Johnson, a parent at the event. “I just wish the iPads didn’t come pre-installed with Truth Social and ads for My Pillow. We’ve only had the thing an hour, and my eight-year-old daughter is already afraid an alien is going to beam into our house and eat her cat. I tried telling her they didn’t mean that kind of alien, and she just narrowed her eyes at me and called me a Soros plant, whatever the hell that means.”

Terri Barclay, the journalist behind the popular leftist Substack newsletter “Terri Tells It,” expressed her exasperation at the administration’s newest stunt.

“TD Bank White House, Verizon Egg Roll, what’s next? Frito-Lay presents the Doritos State of the Union?” said Barclay. “The White House Easter Egg Roll has been a tradition since 1878, and up until now, no president has ever successfully privatized it. Reagan got close in ‘87, but then he came to his senses and realized Lisa Frank eggs would look too garish on camera. Trump, on the other hand, doesn’t care about anything but money. He’d sell his own children if he could make a profit. I’m not kidding. He’s reportedly been trying to sell Eric to Pfizer as a human test subject for years now!”

At press time, Senator Cory Booker announced he would be cancelling a scheduled 48-hour speech on the Senate floor to protest Trump’s recent actions so he can be the keynote speaker at the Goldman Sachs shareholder event.

Haunted Doll Can’t Believe Goodwill Employee Only Pricing It at $4.99

Posted on by Ben Friedman

OCEAN TOWNSHIP, N.J. — Tilly, a haunted Victorian era doll recently donated to a local Goodwill, is on the cusp of tormenting the souls of every employee in the store after being priced at a paltry $4.99, frightened shoppers have reported.

“This feckless laborer knows nothing! I have not spent 200 years in this vessel, devouring countless souls and driving people to the brink of insanity to only end up priced cheaper than something called a ‘Hard Rock Cafe Denver margarita glass.’ He could have at least put me in the glass display cabinet with the cursed jewelry,” said Tilly. “Does this buffoon not sense my aura? I am evil incarnate, and I can float. This is real dead child’s blood on my dress, not ketchup or whatever he assumed. But no, someone saw to it that I am equals with an old keyboard.”

The Goodwill employee who assessed Tilly’s value did not see an issue with the price tag.

“I think one of my coworkers is playing a prank on me because I keep hearing someone whisper that I’m a cheapskate but when I turn around there’s no one there. I have a tried and true method of pricing our donations. For instance the creepy ass doll that came in earlier reeks of sulfur and its eyes blink intermittently,” said Randy Paulson. “Frankly I’d price it lower, but apparently it has a voice box which I didn’t think existed for a doll this old. Somebody clearly has an issue with my appraisal because it keeps mysteriously appearing amongst more expensive stuff like knives and sharp power tools.”

Experts noted that haunted objects need to be handled much differently from other donations.

“Yeah, see the problem is that since haunted objects are sentient, they also have an ego. All it takes is one hapless store clerk slapping a clearance tag on a demonic stuffed animal to set them off on a killing spree,” said auction house owner Debra Hollis. “Dolls like Tilly belong in their natural habitat, specifically in forgotten rooms of old antique shops or at estate sales in dilapidated mansions where all of the inhabitants were driven mad. It’s best to pay top dollar and then store them away before they kill you in your sleep.”

As of press time, Tilly possessed Paulson in order to change her price tag to $666, saying “I’m worth it, dammit.”

Opinion: Is This Family MAGA, or Just Blonde?

Posted on by Peter Ferrarese

My family and I love living here in Montclair — there are restaurants for my wife and me, theaters and museums for the kids, and we absolutely adore our neighborhood. But something’s happened recently: this family, the Connors, moved in across the street about two months ago, and they’re a little…let’s say, suspicious. There’s the father, Marshall, his wife Judy, and their son and daughter. They’re a nuclear white unit, and here’s the kicker: all of them are blonde. We’re thinking they might be, y’know… “MAGA.”

Ever since the Connors set up shop on our street, we’ve been trying to get a sense of whether they’re a Trump-loving bunch with a secret stash of red baseball caps to cover their golden locks. During a recent conversation I learned that Marshall chops his own wood for fires – seems a little conservative, right? But then again, I wish I could do that, so we can’t use it as definitive evidence.

I thought we had some solid evidence about these blondies being weird Elon Musk apologists after Judy was talking with my wife Erin about how much she loved Colleen Hoover. To me, that’s a surefire sign, but Erin said that Judy apparently also loves Toni Morrison. Judy is a wildcard at best.

Recently, at their daughter Kate’s birthday party, I sent our daughter Cara to “wander” upstairs and tell us if she saw any guns lying around anywhere, especially big ones (but told her not to touch them – I’m a responsible dad). She didn’t find any guns, but did see a katana on the wall in Marshall’s office, which just suggests he might be a secret weeb, if anything.

The next few items on my checklist I went through in rapid succession: obnoxiously large, American-made car? No, they drive a Subaru, God damn it. Bringing up religion at weird moments? No, they say grace at dinner but that’s about it. And worst of all, no off-putting opinions about how college makes kids liberal and woke or whatever. I think their son Jack wants to go to Villanova. If this family is MAGA, they hide it pretty freaking well.

Cara ran to the window this past Saturday and said that Marshall was putting up a sign in their yard. This is it, I thought, the definitive answer. Sure enough, there he was…but it wasn’t a Trump sign, it was just a yard sale. Maybe the Connors are just blonde after all. Still, constant vigilance.

Man Coming to Terms With Fact He’ll Never Feel Same Happiness as He Did Seeing Weird Al’s “Dare to be Stupid” Video for First Time

Posted on by Chris Bowen

LOCKPORT, N.Y. — Local 35-year-old man Richard Colburn recently came to the stark realization that he will never again experience joy like he did watching the Weird Al “Dare to be Stupid” music video on “Al TV” for the first time, depressed sources report.

“I thought being a father, having a beautiful wife, and even having my picture taken in the front seat of Grave Digger would bring me even just a tiny morsel of the same joy I experienced watching Weird Al put his head in a microwave to give himself a tan, but it’s all been futile,” Colburn explained. “I suppose it could be worse. At least I know when my happiness peaked, unlike 90% of the other people my age I know who seem to have never enjoyed anything ever at all, not even Weird Al inexplicably wearing pool goggles or a group of adults squeezing Charmin around a table or anything. Poor saps.”

Colburn’s wife claims to have spent years of their marriage doing whatever she can to help her husband cope with his recent revelation.

“When Rich told me, I was a bit thrown off. I never knew the Eat It guy brought him so much delight,” Jessica Colburn explained while wearing a yellow jumpsuit. “Since then, I’ve tried to do things like dress like they do in that video and I even made a little stop-motion reenactment of our first date for our 10 year anniversary. Nothing works. Not even that time I slowly emerged from a giant vat of mashed potatoes on his birthday one year and said ‘mashed potatoes can be your friend.’”

Mental health professionals say many Millennial patients share similar stories to that of Colburn.

“The advent of music television in the 1980s, and its continuation into the 1990s, exposed many children to a wide range of scarring content,” Dr. Brenda Tilburg stated. “My patients have made references to the Primus ‘Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver’ music video as the point they were first overcome with the prospect of their own mortality. Needless to say, MTV was the death knell for the potential of any sort of happiness for the Millennial generation.”

At press time, Jessica Colburn rented “Transformers: the Movie” for her husband in an attempt to expose him to a way to enjoy “Dare to Be Stupid” in another context.

Scientists Confirm Democrat Lawmakers’ Spines Are Softest Naturally Occurring Material on Earth

Posted on by Frederick O'Brien

BOSTON, Mass. — Scientists confirmed that Democrat lawmakers’ spines are by far the softest material on the planet, and quite possibly in the known universe, confirmed sources who didn’t have any follow-up questions.

“We didn’t think it was physically possible for anything to be so flimsy,” said lead researcher at MIT, Dr. Helen Klovitz. “The findings have been truly remarkable. They failed every single one of our strength tests. We had to invent more and they failed them too. The most incredible thing is their readiness to crumble. Most spines collapsed before experiments even began, many while they were just filling out the preliminary paperwork. The mere possibility of external pressure being applied was enough for them to preemptively give way. In fact, we found that jellyfish are far more durable than Adam Schiff’s spinal column.”

Senate minority leader Chuck Schumer, found curled up in the fetal position under his office desk, dismissed the findings as propaganda.

“Clearly this study was orchestrated by Russia. Or Joe Rogan. Or Bernie Sanders. Or voters who aren’t smart enough to see how brilliant we are. Quite possibly they’re all in cahoots with each other,” Schumer mumbled while his bones were audibly liquefying. “The important thing at this historical moment is to continue to oppose President Trump and the Republicans by giving them stern looks of disappointment and occasionally waving a clenched fist behind closed doors. This will set us up well for the midterms.”

Independent voter Alice Womble took a moment from screaming into a pillow to share her experiences trying to get in touch with local representatives.

“I feel stuck,” Womble said. “When I call my local Democrats’ office I get a pre-recorded message saying, ‘The Republicans are in power, call them.’ When I call my local Republicans’ office they just kind of laugh maniacally. Is there not some space between snivelling cowards and assholes with a death wish? I just want the minimum wage to be raised and healthcare for all. And it turns out, Democrats are evolutionary challenged to put forth meaningful laws or fight for anything.”

At press time, research had moved on to whether Republican lawmakers’ hearts are the hardest naturally occurring material on earth.

Opinion: If We’re Going To Ignore Years of Medical Research, We Should at Least Make Cigarettes Healthy Again

Posted on by Holden Klym

Look, I’m not one to complain. For the past sixty years, I’ve been a proud American who’s enjoyed exactly two things: my freedoms and my smokes. Science took both of those joys away from me. Now that modern medicine isn’t real, I have one request: let’s bring back the golden age of cigarettes.

Think about it: if we’re learning that vaccines are a government conspiracy, seat belts don’t work, and drinking raw milk straight from the cow is safer than what’s on store shelves, then why are we still acting like smoking is bad?

Back in my day, doctors prescribed a pack of Camels for a scratchy throat. I used to be able to light up in a hospital room without the nurse asking me to stop blowing smoke in my newborn’s face. Now my kid can’t go buy me a pack until he’s 21? There’s no point in even being a father.

Nowadays everyone is “tobacco-free” and in therapy. These younger generations are all hooked on SSRIs when they should be solving their issues with a Newport and a lighter. Take mental health out of the health industry and put Big Tobacco back where it belongs. Let’s put a Surgeon General’s warning on nicotine cessation products that says, “You’re embarrassing your grandfather.”

Men need role models that will teach ‘em how to roll their own cigarettes at a young age to avoid succumbing to the so-called masculinity crisis. This never happened when we had the Marlboro Man. You think he worried about his lung capacity? No, sir. He lit up, took a deep drag, and kept being a damn American. He didn’t go to drag shows and complain about the environment, he polluted the world as much as he saw fit. Let’s remind today’s youth that a real man doesn’t sip kombucha — he breathes in pure, unfiltered freedom.

So, until we start treating cigarettes with the respect they deserve, I refuse to quit. My body, my choice, right?