LOS ANGELES — A late-night quest for the munchies turned tragic after a violent Doritos Locosplosion ripped through a Taco Bell causing nine dudes to live no más, bummed-out sources confirmed.
“The Taco Bell forensic team is still piecing together the scene, but it appears that a flame ignited a Doritos Locos powder barrel in the kitchen, sending a hellacious amount of hard taco shell-shrapnel into the dining room,” said Taco Bell spokesperson Dante Brooks, lowering the bell outside to half-mast. “It was like a nacho cheese claymore went off, causing mondo mutilation and bodacious bodily harm. We’re just grateful that this tragic accident occurred while the restaurant was empty during the dinner lull—if that Locosplosion had gone off during the 2 a.m. munchies rush, hundreds of dudes in dope-ass Jeeps could have been killed.”
A survivor of the Doritos Locosplosion reportedly survived the incident because he was ‘in the shitter making his own bean burrito’ during the Diablo blaze.
“Normally the Taco Bell bathroom is the last place you’d wanna be, but I’m counting my lucky churros that I was blowing up el baño or it’d be a closed casket supreme for me, too,” said Skyler Morrison, recalling the accident. “As soon as I heard the blast I ran out of the bathroom and slipped on what looked like a pool of fire sauce on the ground. Then I saw this poor dude that got his guts turned to ground beef and I realized that it wasn’t fire sauce at all. That was not muy bien man, not muy bien at all.”
A Taco Bell spokesperson later addressed the media, giving a speech urging the community to come together in light of the tragedy.
“The fabric of our community was torn apart tonight, much like the flesh of that guy that got showered in molten refried beans. But just as the bean and cheese layer holds the cheesy gordita crunch together, we need to unite as a community and honor these nine dudes’ memories by living even más-er,” said Taco Bell communications director Ricky Kline, pinning a teal memorial ribbon to his shirt. “That’s why from this day forward, I urge everyone to always seize the gordita, grab the nachos by the chips, and drink deep from the cup of Baja Blast, because you never know when that sweet sip of nectar might be your last. Vaya con jalapeños, mis amigos.”
Taco Bell CEO Sean Tresvant later released a statement saying this was among the top three biggest Baja bummers in the fast food giant’s storied history, after the tragic “Combination Taco Bell-KFC Fry Grease Bell Grande Incident” and the “1996 Chili Con Chaos Riots.”
As one of the few female characters in the Looney Tunes roster, Penelope had a rough go of things in the old days. In her autobiography, she detailed encounters with a Merry Melodies A-lister who would coerce her into painting a stripe on her back so he could more easily pretend they were the same species and make unwanted sexual advances at her. She never named him, fearing retribution, but her description of her abuser as “that smelly French bastard” leaves little to the imagination.
Though canonically male, Tweety Bird has been at least trans-coded ever since 1952’s “Ain’t She Tweet.” They’ve actually been able to maintain relevance and be discovered by a new generation of fans on, you guessed it, Twitter.
In a 2019 interview, Tucker Carlson asked Road Runner if he felt that the radical left-wing Hollywood agenda was killing comedy, to which the bird replied “Hmeep hmeep” and ran away. His politics are hard to pin down.
On cancel culture: “Today’s young people need to spend less time being outraged online and more time boiling in my cauldron, TE-HE-HE-HE-HE!”
Granny’s shtick was being old and out of touch in the 1950s, so you can imagine how poorly her politics have aged. She might not be aware that gay marriage is legal, or that being gay is legal, or like, even a thing. Her last college stand-up tour was a trainwreck.
This angry little guy has managed to maintain an audience in the one place that would have him, the far-right infotainment sphere. He can be frequently heard on The Joe Rogan Experience hawking his all-chicken diet guide and insisting that just about anyone you don’t like is in fact a chicken.
Okay, we SWEAR Michigan J. sounded off to us about how woke culture is destroying the entertainment industry and rotting this country from the inside out but whenever we try to get him to do it in front of anyone else he just says “ribbit” and we look like we’re crazy.
Remember Buddy? Of course you don’t nobody does. Even other Looney Tunes don’t remember Buddy. Anyway, he’s a Nazi now.
“It’s like you c-c-can’t say a-a-a-anything anymore b-because of the li-li-ali-woke satanist Hollywood agenda.”
These two can be heard on any podcast that will have them griping about how sensitive audiences have become. They consider themselves victims of cancel culture, which is bold talk for mice that were revealed to not even be real Mexicans. There’s no excuse guys.
“There was a time in this country when men went to war and cats could be lifted off the ground by the smell of pies cooling on windowsills. Now we have safe spaces and pronouns. Sufferin succatash, what happened?!”
Given the amount of mudflaps and Walmart t-shirts he can be seen on you would think Taz leans fully right, but he considers himself more a freethinking independent. “The way I see it, the internet has radicalized both sides. The left and the right are both as crazy, and both just as likely to make me spin around all crazy and destroy everything in my path. Not a popular opinion for a guy trying to find work in Hollywood, but hey, I gotta be me.”
As a more recent addition to the Looney Tunes roster brought on deliberately in the interest of female representation you would think Lola was a progressive, but she pulled a full Gina Carano fast. She’s currently in talks to become the spokesbunny for the NRRA, the National Riffle Rabbit Association.
His Twitter bio reads “Be vewy vewy quiet, I’m owning libwals, hu-hu-hu!” Elmer is anti-vax, pro-Trump, and has frequently stated that John Voight and James Woods are the only guys working in Hollywood he trusts.
Marvin has never been the most versatile actor in the world, but he still insists that his trouble finding work these days is entirely due to politics.
His latest Netflix special “Rabbit Season, Cuck Season” is his lowest watched to date, and it’s not hard to see why. He just doesn’t have it anymore. He spends half the time slapping his knee and wadding around the stage to let everyone know how funny his jokes are, and he just won’t let up on trans people, he keeps doubling down. Somehow his latest tour sold out in 8 minutes.
We’re not sure what kind of reaction this antebellum-loving deep south rooster was expecting touring college towns in 2024 but needless to say he was not well received. In a now-viral stand-up clip, he can be seen being booed at the Brooklyn Knitting Factory after a tasteless pronouns joke fell flat, stammering “I say I say that’s a JOKE now you liberal Yankee CUCKS!” before storming off the stage.
Wile E. Coyote was never quite as smart as he thought he was, which makes him a perfect pea in Ben Shapiro and Jordan Peterson’s pod. In a recent viral video, he can be seen holding a wooden sign that reads “Sorry liberals, there are only two genders” but then he realizes he’s standing on thin air and flips the sign around to read “Thanks Obama” before plummeting to the bottom of a gorge.
His frequent cross-dressing in the ’40s and ’50s gave him a brief queer icon status, but that was undercut when he called Kevin Spacey’s accusers “stinkers and maroons” on social media. Since the backlash over those remarks Bugs has only gone further down the right-wing rabbit hole, claiming he can’t work in comedy anymore because his material is “too edgy for the wokes.” It’s unclear how Mr. Bunny thinks his “left turn at Albequrque” routine is offensive to liberals or why it was ever funny in the first place, but that’s his read. He is currently in talks with Jerry Seinfeld to produce a movie about the invention of carrots.
Take a wild guess where this fucker was on January 6th, 2021. Yeah, Yosemite got taken in by the QAnon crowd, the Proud Boys, the Oath Keepers, you name it. Once they took his guns away for the HBO MAX reboot something just snapped in the guy. Let’s just say he’s calling people things a little harsher than “varmint” these days.
How this guy and Bill Maher still have careers is beyond us.
Waxahatchee’s third studio album, “Ivy Tripp” is totally enjoyable and yet leaves something to be desired. The album feels a bit scattered and lacking in cohesion, with some choppy jumps between songs that take the listener out of the emotional ecosystems that Katie is so good at creating. In “Ivy Tripp,” Katie primarily sticks with her modus operandi of short-n-sweet songs, which tend to serve her well, but she also includes a few songs that surpass the four-minute mark. Ultimately, though, the extra length doesn’t accomplish much (take note, ladies and gents).
Katie Crutchfield’s latest pursuit, “Tigers Blood” was released in late March and is being rightfully celebrated. This new release doubles down on the folksy genre shift that Katie introduced in 2020, showcasing sunny-yet-introspective songs that let the mind wander–but not wander so far as to stumble across a shadowy forest, dark pool, or dangerous cliff. While we can all appreciate that Katie is in a content place in her life and now makes music to reflect that, sometimes I still like a little shadowy forest with my mind wandering.
“Out in the Storm” is a shattered mirror—it is sharp, it is honest, and it is sexy. Here, Katie pushes male egos back in their seats, expressing feminine rage so masterfully she almost convinces me of its existence. Not to mention the album features a female-heavy band including Allison Crutchfield and Katie Harkin. The songwriting is concise and bitter, unapologetically calling out some of the people who have wronged her. Give this one a listen when you work yourself up into a fit about the grotesque existence of pick-up artists or when some dude named Brian treats you like trash.
Released on March 27, 2020, “Saint Cloud” is Waxahatchee’s fifth studio album, which welcomed us into the warm (slightly feverish) arms of a global pandemic. In “Saint Cloud,” Katie shifts genres, leaving her indie and punk influence behind to embrace her folk and country roots from her Southern upbringing. In doing so, she shares a softer, sober side of herself. During a time when a lot of us were feeling fragile, this album was in the right place at the right time. It also prompted a distinct increase in googling of “Arkadelphia.”
Waxahatchee’s debut album, “American Weekend” is hot and heavy. The album encapsulates slow and stagnant summers, tormenting lusts, wet regret, and selfish indecisions. With most of the songs written in a week’s time, “American Weekend” features gut-wrenching and expert lyricism, setting Katie up for a successful career as a solo artist. And just like the title suggests, the album is peppered with sepia-toned Americana images–from static TVs, beer, and cigarettes to cul-de-sacs, lawns, and grass stains. While American Weekend’s lo-fi vibe does feel a little bare bones, Katie’s expressive voice and raw writing really give us so much to chew on.
Katie Crutchfield not only avoids the sophomore slump with her second album but kicks the idea of one right in the teeth. “Cerulean Salt” is an absolutely stellar combination of intimate vocals and whispered poems with strong-yet-hazy guitar. Katie’s songwriting feels like an invitation to join her in the everyday reckoning of existentialism, which sure is enticing with so many existential crises at our doorsteps. And even when there’s no heaven or hell and nothing matters, Katie still finds a way to make listening to her songs feel sacred.
