Opinion: Men Only Want One Thing and It’s Beating Their Rival in a Drag Race To Win the Affections of a Woman

Posted on by Ben Friedman

It’s been said that men are happy with the simple things in life, if you’re going off of their predilection for dino nuggies and furnishing their apartments with nothing but a flat screen TV and a camping chair. Unfortunately, many young men today have been indoctrinated by nefarious influencers who tell them treating women like shit and being an asshole to bartenders will bring them the satisfaction in life they crave.

No, what men really want out of life is to beat their rival in a do-or-die drag race to win the affections of a woman.

Men just want that one moment of triumph that defines them. And according to 1950s rockabilly, it involves a date with the town’s hottest greaser gal who’ll only go out with the winner of an illegal drag race against your arch nemesis from a rival gang. Forget graduating from college, the children yearn for the chop shops to build badass muscle cars.

Sure, guys could scratch that primordial itch by joining a fight club or slowly going insane from eating nothing but raw meat. But life isn’t about that! It’s about publicly humiliating the guy who called you a chicken in front of everyone at the spring carnival, and you damn sure know Sally from down the street saw you get called out.

A good paying job, nice house, and loving family can’t happen unless a man can build all of it upon the foundation of leaving their cross-town rival in the dust in a much cooler, faster hot rod for the sole purpose of impressing a woman. Sure, the ensuing date could go terribly, but it’s not about that. It’s about building character.

The sentiment goes both ways, too. You think women only want emotionally mature men capable of feeling empathy? Well, yes. But they also want to watch you beat Jimmy “The Hustler” Amato in a high-stakes race down the Los Angeles River before watching him careen off a cliff hitting “Dead Man’s Curve.”

When today’s men are lying in their inevitable death beds, they won’t want to look back in sadness at all the chances they blew and people they should’ve treated more kindly. They want to reminisce about that life validating victory of burning rubber, hot asphalt, and being in the arms of a leather jacket-clad bombshell baddie.

Fuck yeah. Pink slips on the line, lets do this!

Kinsella Family Reunion Leads to Formation of 12 New Bands

Posted on by Eric Degliomini

URBANA, Ill. — The bi-annual Kinsella family reunion, organized by brothers and Cap’n Jazz bandmates Tim and Mike Kinsella, successfully resulted in the record-breaking formation of 12 new bands that will inevitably be signed to Polyvinyl and/or Jade Tree, confirmed sources.

“This year has not only led to our largest quantity of bands formed, but our widest variety as well,” stated American Football bassist, Cap’n Jazz guitarist, Make Believe drummer, LIES multi-instrumentalist, and lead cousin of the event Nate Kinsella. “We have everything from the math-y in your face twinkly guitar riffs in ‘Isthmus Between Us,’ to the reverb-heavy acoustic guitars in ‘Wishwell,’ to the experimental two-piece, synth-backed twinkly guitars in ‘Plane Jain.’ I’m just so glad we could get family members from around the world to convene at our three-bed, two bath American Football house.”

The gathering has attracted attention from locals unaware of the area’s notoriety in the midwestern emo scene.

“I kept hearing music down the street that constantly alternated from fast sad noodle-y guitar rock, to slow depressing shit,” local resident Liam Hunter stated. “I thought some of the students were throwing a music fest, so I was surprised when I walked over to see a family reunion that was somehow 90% bearded dads in their 40s. They actually mistook me for their second cousin. Long story short, I’m in four new bands. Little do they know that I don’t play any instruments and I’m not even remotely related to anyone here.”

This year marks a controversial change for the event, as members of Algernon Cadwallader, the Philadelphia-based fourth wave emo band, were granted permission to attend this previously second wave midwestern emo-oriented event.

“Reviewers always called Algernon ‘Cap’n Jazz knockoffs’ and being reductively dismissed by music critics makes them family more or less,” explained the family historian and Karateoke drummer Itsuki Kinsella. “The bands they’ve started are taking off too. Amanda Zoldaz’s Ghost already has lyrics that have been spray painted on the walls of a renowned Japanese thrift store, and Gloo has a fall tour of Central Eastern Europe lined up where they’ve already attracted a cult following.”

At press time, eight of the formed bands announced their imminent breakups, citing the desire to build financial demand for a reunion offer from Best Friends Forever Fest.

Bushwick Child Cagey About How They Are Able to Afford Barbie Dreamhouse

Posted on by Sarah Cortina

BUSHWICK, N.Y. — Bushwick child Avery Bridgerton reportedly acted quite cagey when questioned on the playground about how they could afford their Barbie Dreamhouse, confirmed sources.

“Look, what I do is real work. We all have to forge our own journey. Mommy signed me up for piano lessons and writing lessons but my pre-school really emphasized going after what you’re passionate about. And my true purpose is art,” said Bridgerton while gesturing to their finger painting consisting of various blobs. “How I spend my days is just as valuable as anyone else. Even if I go to Montessori school instead of public school and my parents keep referring to something called a trust fund, I’m just like everyone else. I’ve actually suffered for my art because while this Barbie Dreamhouse has everything you could ever want, my old dollhouse didn’t even have in-unit washer dryer or central air conditioning. Mommy said I had to choose between the new Dreamhouse or a new saddle for my pony. She’s the worst.”

Some classmates, such as local seven year old Chase Williams, haven’t bought the child’s excuses.

“I don’t trust Avery. Whenever we ask about the playhouse and what their daddy does for work, they just say he ‘works with computers’ and ‘helps people.’ He should pursue something worthwhile, like building block towers or b2b marketing. Or my startup,” said Williams. “Oh, and Avery is also just pretentious. They claim to want to be friends but then reschedules playdates because of ‘family stuff.’ Avery also thinks they’re better than everyone because they grew up watching Baby Einstein instead of Cocomelon.”

After much cajoling Bridgerton sheepishly revealed that their parents are the ones who bought the house.

“We just want to support Avery with basic needs. But you know, everyone deserves a little bit of luxury in their life,” said father Thomas Bridgerton. “Plus, if we don’t give Avery what they want, they bite and somehow they’ve figured out how to make their teeth sharper by gnawing on hard surfaces. We’ve tried gentle parenting, but we ended up in the emergency room. It’s safer for everyone to just give in to Avery, like the Barbie Dream Camper they demanded this morning.”

At press time, Bridgerton also acted standoffish when asked how they were able to afford the rideable Barbie Convertible Car.

Opinion: It’s Interesting How They Claim To Want To “Make America Great Again,” Yet I Never Hear Much Sponge on the Radio These Days

Posted on by Chris Bowen

“Make America Great Again.” Yeah, okay. These clowns have been in our country’s political scene for like over ten years now, and I haven’t seen much “greatness.” “Tariff” this and “complete erosion of our foundational political norms coupled with total egregious corruption and fear” that. But have I heard Sponge on the radio once in this period of neo-fascism? I certainly haven’t. I heard everything but the standout college rock songs of the 1990s. There’s nothing so “great” about that.

When I was a kid in the 1990s, Sponge seemed to be associated with all the fun a kid could have in that decade. “Rotting Piñata” was the soundtrack to every mall visit, miniature golf experience, and every custody battle I was involved in. There is not one bad memory of loading into the family car, driving to a roller skating rink with “Sixteen Candles” playing on the local college rock radio station.

Now, fast forward 30 years, and look at what our lives have become.

Now, it’s all “pay your electric bill” and “you have to stop eating all those Funyuns or you’ll probably die.” Man, back when America was actually great, I never had to worry about that stuff, or being thrown in an El Salvadorian prison. But worst of all, all of this shit is going on without “Plowed” popping on 95.1 as I’m crying on my way to work. No more malls, no more miniature golf, sure, maybe one or two more custody battles, but even they just aren’t the same. I hope you people who voted for this got what you wished for.

In order to truly turn things around in this country, I would suggest a total overthrow of the cookie-cutter, business-over-art state of the radio business. Then we implement non-stop 90s college rock radio across the airwaves. We could truly make “America Great Again,” through the likes of Sponge and even the Toadies, the soundtrack to our real revolution.

Chief of Previously Uncontacted Tribe Asks Explorers if They’ve Heard the New Turnstile Album

Posted on by Tim Graham

TAUARIAZINHO, Brazil — An encounter with an isolated tribe resulted in an unexpected discussion of the band Turnstile, according to dumbfounded jungle guides.

“My team and I were deep in the heart of the Amazon jungle in search of a mythical lost city,” said expedition lead Sir Henry Beauregard. “After days of hacking our way through the undergrowth, we encountered an indigenous group. We were able to communicate by using elements of several local dialects. Strangely, all they wanted to talk about was the musical group Turnstile. The chief showed us dozens of copies of the band’s album ‘Glow On,’ which he claimed were a gift from the gods that came floating downriver. They’d managed to listen to the music via a rudimentary phonograph made from a porcupine quill and a large leaf rolled into a conical shape.”

Cargo plane pilot Captain Greg Lander thinks he may know how the tribe came into possession of the records.

“Our flight paths occasionally have us flying over very remote areas,” said Captain Lander. “Sometimes atmospheric conditions will cause us to burn more fuel than usual, requiring us to dump weight to stay in the air. I do recall a few years ago, our cargo included dozens of crates of records destined for a distribution center in Brasilia. We ran into some trouble and had to jettison some of them over the jungle. My guess is a crate of Turnstile records landed in the river and wound up at that village. They should be grateful we dumped those and not the Benson Boone records.”

It is often problematic when Western culture permeates secluded societies, explained anthropologist Susan Montgomery.

“Unfortunately, uncontacted peoples’ first encounters with modern civilization are often via accidental exposure to mass-produced goods. For instance, there is an African tribe who came to believe a Furby they came across was a demon which needed to be appeased with sacrifices. Indonesia’s Polahi tribe have been observed worshipping a shrine made of Garfield phones which washed up on their shores in the ‘80s. And there’s a group in the Australian outback whose ceremonial dress consists of ‘Whoomp! (There It Is)’ shirts they somehow acquired.”

At press time, the chief managed to get a copy of Turnstile’s new album “Never Enough,” which he deemed to be “decent, but a little too commercial sounding.”

Dry Hump Rash Spreads Through Christian Music Festival

Posted on by Dan Kozuh

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Health officials working the medical tent at the popular Living Flesh Music Festival have confirmed reports of a full-blown outbreak of Dry Hump Rash rapidly spreading through the crowd of the three-day Christian music retreat.

“We were suddenly inundated with people who had terrible burning on their inner thighs, lower abdominals, and, um, the loins. They claimed it was from being baptized in the runoff behind the port-o-johns but the visible denim-imprints made it pretty obvious. It seems more than just the holy spirit was moving these teens,” said volunteer medic Brian Camden, while discreetly handing out anti-chafing cream. “The worst we usually get here is heatstroke and the occasional talking in tongues. We preach that any contact below the belt, even if it is covered, is a slippery slope to hell. That’s why we call these blisters, Satan’s Scales.”

Attendees of the concert, however, absolutely deny these allegations.

“I was only in my tent with that girl to pray with her because she was so upset about the Michael Tait allegations. The next thing you know we are both on fire. It was the devil, obviously. Our faith was just too strong and a demon tried to enter us through our Adam & Eve,” said 17-year-old attendee Connor B., holding an ice-filled Chick-fil-A to-go bag against his pelvis. “Thankfully, my youth pastor agreed to marry us during the Land of Uz performance. He said that was the only way to truly cast the demon out. That’s great actually, I’m almost 18 and I was beginning to think I’d never get married.”

Experts blame a dangerous combination of abstinence-only education and typical elevated music festival horniness.

“You can’t just gather thousands of hormonal teens together who believe masturbation is a sin, blast contemporary Christian rock, and let them rub up against one another in a pitiful excuse for a mosh pit — this was inevitable,” said Dr. Jenna Wexler, a public health official and former church camp counselor. “If you’re gonna preach abstinence, you can’t leave anyone unmarried unattended for more than 15 minutes. A purity ring isn’t powerful enough to stop homeschool kids being away from their parents for the first time.”

At press time, a youth group from Arkansas was asked to leave after a heavy petting orgy broke out in their tent which ignited a brush fire.

There’s No Such Thing as a Male Loneliness Epidemic as Long as These Volleyballs I’ve Drawn Faces on Don’t Leave Me

Posted on by Doug Kolic

A new buzzed-about phrase that the media has been discussing lately is the idea that men in society are experiencing a severe epidemic of loneliness. Don’t get me wrong, I agree that mental health is incredibly important, but I also like to call out crap whenever I hear it. That’s why I can unequivocally say this isn’t a real problem — and I have the confidence to say that in a room filled with a dozen smiling faces I’ve drawn on volleyballs. As long as they stay with me, I’ll never be alone.

If you’re one of those people who crave face-to-face interaction with actual human beings, that’s perfectly fine — just know that more often than not, it’ll leave you disappointed when they inevitably fail to meet your needs. Like when you invited everyone over to each birthday you ever had from age five to thirty-five, and nobody ever bothered to show up.

Real-life people, back when I still interacted with them, used to call me “unhinged” with a “screw-loose,” coupled with a personality that was “downright frightening.” These were just lies, inspired by jealousy. Nothing could be further from the truth, and if you disagree, feel free to take it up with my close-knit circle of Mikasa V200Ws, who I’m confident will gladly vouch for me.

That’s why my life is so much better than everyone else’s — who wouldn’t want a team of devoted, loyal pals who’ve always got your back? If I ask one of them to be my plus-one for Friday movie night, they never say no. Well, except for that one occasion with my blue Wilson K1. But let’s just say a swift puncture to the side of his tiny leathered face quickly resolved matters, and we’ve been on great terms ever since.

Whether you want to call it “modern solitude,” a “social disconnection crisis,” or “a crippling case of isolation caused by my questionable interactions with inanimate objects that is now on the radar of local law enforcement,” that’s up to you. All I know is that tonight I’m gonna do what I always do on Friday nights — cracking open a few cold ones, throwing on my Fight Club DVD, and having sex with a bunch of volleyballs.

Cancelled Band’s Tour Shirt Demoted to Pajamas

Posted on by Ben Friedman

NEWTON, Mass. — A local man’s once beloved band tour shirt was unceremoniously demoted to being worn exclusively as pajamas after the group was declared cancelled by the general public, family members have confirmed.

“What the hell did I do to my owner to deserve this? I’ve been a conversation piece for over two decades, and just because people found out the lead singer DM’d some underage girls and the rest of the band knew, I have to be downgraded to sleepwear? If people can separate the art from the artist, surely we can do so for the merchandise as well,” said the shirt from its new permanent spot draped over an office chair. “I’m lucky if I even make it past the bathroom after his morning shits, on top of the humiliation of being in the jammies rotation with a Morrissey tank top. I yearn to be free!”

The shirt’s owner said his choices were either transitioning it to pajamas or throwing it away.

“Don’t get me wrong, I feel disgusted and betrayed by the band’s actions and will never support them again. But this shirt is from the first show I ever attended, so I figured the next best thing was to keep it around for wearing to bed or when I’m too lazy to put on fresh clothes in the house. I got some nasty looks last time I wore it out in public, so it was either this or the trash can,” said James Thomlinson. “I’ll wear it to sleep for a few months until it gets all stretched out and then cram it into the back of my closet where the moths can take care of it”

Second hand clothing stores have been struggling to find viable uses for shirts from problematic bands.

“We’ll take almost anything so long as it’s in good condition, but man these pop punk and emo tees are a hard sell and yet we’ve been flooded with them after all these bands have been outed as creeps. We’ve ‘rebranded’ them as dish rags and animal pee pads in order to make them more appealing, which seems to be working,” said Savers manager Diane Parsons. “You should see how many Brand New tees we’ve sold as reusable diapers. It’s our number one seller.”

As of press time, Thomlinson’s wife surprised him by incorporating the shirt into an upcycled blanket with the rest of his cancelled band tees.

JD Vance Sitting on Curb After Trump Forgets to Pick Him Up

Posted on by Matt Husser

WASHINGTON — Vice President JD Vance was reportedly left sitting on the curb for several hours today after President Trump forgot to pick him up after a charity softball game, sources confirmed.

“There must have been some sort of DEI emergency at the White House, President Trump wouldn’t just forget about me…would he?” pouted Vice President Vance, sitting on the curb with his face in his hands. “No, no way, I’m an integral part of this administration, with various managerial tasks and assorted office duties—he always says I’m the MVP of getting coffee and donuts for everyone. I better wait here a little longer, he promised to take me to see Ted Nugent’s one man show at the Kennedy Center and I want to make sure he doesn’t think I bailed on him when he shows up looking for me.”

Secret Service Agent Lance Connelly reportedly had to console the Vice President for several hours while they waited for Air Force One to arrive.

“When the President didn’t show up, JD took it really hard—I mean I’ve never seen a Vice President cry this much, and I was there when Trump tried to have Mike Pence killed,” said Agent Connelly, wringing out his tear-soaked tie. “I sat with him for a few hours and let him play games on my phone before I faked a call saying the President got pulled away to nuke Iran. Honestly, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that President Trump was already on the 14th hole at Mar-A-Lago.”

President Trump fielded questions from reporters after Air Force One finally arrived back in the Capitol.

“The fake news media are saying I forgot to pick up that crybaby JD Vance, which is false! I was just a little delayed and got him as soon as I was done with some very important business, but that didn’t stop JD from sobbing all the way home. I mean have you ever seen such a whiner, folks? No wonder his parents sold him for drugs when he was a kid,” said Trump, bouncing an empty Big Mac box off Vance’s head. “I tried to cheer him up by taking him to McDonald’s on the way back to the White House, but he embarrassed me by ordering a Filet-O-Fish with a carton of milk like a stray cat. Now my new upholstery from the beautiful people of Qatar smells like Ted Cruz’s ugly wife, no President in history has been treated so poorly by his Vice President!”

At press time, Trump was reportedly working with his lawyers to offload full custody of JD Vance to Peter Thiel.

What the Hell? This Guy Majored in English but Doesn’t Like the National

Posted on by Ben Friedman

It’s fair to say that since the beginning of recorded history, humanity has known the world follows some kind of natural order, like the food chain, the sun rising in the east, or glam rock becoming popular for like 2 months every ten years. No matter how we try to fight against it, the world imposes its natural law.

However, something (or in this case, someone) has threatened to throw everything we knew about the universe into complete chaos. Defying all logic, there exists a man who, despite holding a Bachelor’s in English, is not a fan of revered indie band The National.

What erudite, well-read human being wouldn’t be into a band with lyrics that so intricately explore the depth of human emotion? A guy who went to state school, apparently. 40-year-old Stuart Wilson missed the part of his undergraduate studies that explains how becoming an ardent lover of Matt Beringer’s lyrics and the band’s emotional melodies is a prerequisite.

“I really thought people either lied about liking them or just listened to them performatively, like when someone says they’ve read ‘Infinite Jest’ or ‘Ulysses’. And believe me, I’ve tried several times to get into them just to get my college buddies off my back. One time, I tried giving ‘Trouble Will Find Me’ another shot and only made it three songs in before I started dozing off and nearly struck a telephone pole. Was their entire discography underwritten by Ambien or something?”

It’s like he isn’t capable of feeling complex emotions! He probably felt nothing reading the ending of “A Farewell to Arms”, too, the sick bastard.

“Every album just sounds like a run-on sentence about being a sad dad. Listen, I mostly use the writing and literacy skills I honed in college to edit TV instruction manuals, so frankly, their whole act just comes off as a soundtrack for elitists who only drink wine at parties. I’m more of a Decemberists guy, so sue me! Am I having my degree rescinded or something?”

Wilson’s sentiments towards the acclaimed indie darlings are so bizarre and unnatural, they may rewrite how scholars perceive the human brain. On the other hand, we obtained his high school standardized test scores, and while he scored high on the English portion, his math scores reflected those of a child who ingested glue as a midday snack.

It could simply be that his brain is wired incorrectly. Here’s hoping, because if a man can get a degree in English without once pining for a girl a little too young for him while “Fake Empire” blares through his AirPods, the country truly is lost.