Goth Blows Entire October Grocery Budget On Socks From Spirit Halloween Store

Posted on by Caroline Smith

HENDERSON, Nev. — Local goth Amarantha Obsidian blew her entire October grocery budget on novelty Halloween socks from Spirit Halloween Store, shocked friends and family confirmed.

“Halloween is the only time when I can stock up on clothes to wear for the entire year,” Obsidian said while pulling up her pant leg to show off socks with sparkly purple bats all over them. “Was it prudent to purchase thirty-one pairs of socks at $9.99 a pop? Maybe not, but how was I supposed to know that comes out to $319.68? Quality socks like these are totally worth having to forego things like bread, almond milk, or toilet paper.”

Obsidian’s family has expressed concern about the misguided sartorial purchase.

“There was one time in high school that Ama used all of her lunch money for the week to buy a latex mini-skirt from Hot Topic, but that is small potatoes compared to this lapse in judgment,” said Obsidian’s sister, Jackie Webber, while ignoring a call from Obsidian. “There she is now, probably trying to invite herself over for dinner. I already fell for it once, and she had the audacity to wear her brand new ‘Beetlejuice’ socks when she came over to hoover up two servings of lasagna. That much ricotta cheese doesn’t just pay for itself.”

Obsidian’s long-term partner, Lair Nightblood, said he was trying to be “as supportive as possible,” but admitted he struggles with the inverse relationship between the lack of food and the abundance of Halloween socks.

“Look, when Amarantha first came home from the Spirit Halloween Store, I was genuinely excited about her Slimer, Chuckie, Jason, Mike Meyers, and Stay Puft Marshmallow man socks. But then I realized that was just the first bag. And that there were many, many, many more bags that were lurking in the back of her closet,” said Lair while he wearily rubbed his face. “Ama has always claimed to be a feminist that pays her own way. Recently though, she has been making me pay every time we go out. The clown on her IT socks just looks like it’s mocking me at this point.”

At press time, Obsidian was being escorted away from a Halloween party for putting too many free cookies in her purse.

11 Strangest Music Urban Legends

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

The history of music is pretty wild, but that doesn’t stop people from coming up with some strange stories. Here’s 11 urban legends about music that are simply too freaky to be true.

“Paul is Dead”

the beatles

Legend is, you can hear John Lennon confirming that the Beatles bassist had been replaced by a lookalike on the spooky coda of “Strawberry Fields Forever.” However, in a 1980 interview, Lennon admitted that the surviving band members had fed McCartney’s corpse to Eric Clapton’s dogs and he only said he “buried” Paul to throw police off the scent.

“Something in the Air Tonight” is About Witnessing a Drowning

Phil Collins playing drums

While Phil Collins’ most famous song is indeed about a drowning, it’s actually about the time his band mates in Genesis, Peter Gabriel and Tony Banks, were horsing around and held him underwater in the pool for too long. Collins was clinically dead for almost three minutes, and came up with the iconic drum break as soon as he regained consciousness.

Prince Was a Person

OLD COMPUTER from the 80s

Get this, some people actually think “Prince” was a guy from Minnesota, of all places! However, recently declassified documents have now confirmed that classic tracks like “Sometimes It Snows in April” and “Kiss” were mathematical experiments by the Positronic Rational Intelligence Neural Computing Engine (or P.R.I.N.C.E.), before Project Purple Rain was shut down in 2016.

Marilyn Manson Was On “The Wonder Years”

Even if he was, fuck that guy.

The Devil Will Give You Incredible Guitar Skills in Exchange for Your Soul

This legend has been told about a lot of the great bluesmen, but the truth is, Satan will only teach you guitar for $15.99 a session (five session minimum).

American Pie is About Something

It’s long been rumored that Don McLean’s 1971 hit was symbolically about the history of rock ‘n roll and the accompanying cultural shifts in America. However, the singer has repeatedly debunked that notion, revealing that the “lyrics” of the nearly nine-minute song were the result of a drunken scatting session that went on way too long.

Chuck E. Cheese Started the Make-Believe Band After Getting Kicked Out of Metallica

Oh, c’mon, did you believe this? While Chuck E. Cheese briefly played rhythm guitar in a nascent Metallica, he left on good terms over artistic differences and regularly plays golf with Lars Ulrich.

Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon Syncs to Wizard of Oz

No, but Ummagumma does.

“Puff the Magic Dragon” Was Written by a Hitchhiker Who Was Actually a Ghost

Music buffs like to say Peter, Paul & Mary’s “Puff the Magic Dragon” was actually found scrawled on a piece of paper in the backseat of a car that picked up a hitchhiker who asked to be driven home but gave directions to what turned out to be a graveyard and then disappeared. But it wasn’t.

G Chord

Fanboys have obsessed for decades over the idea that a so-called “G” chord, composed of the notes G, B, and D, exists. But like so many urban legends, it’s just that: a legend.

Music Can Soothe a Troubled Soul

Nothing can actually give you solace but the embrace of Our Lord Jesus. Not alcohol, not carnal pursuits, not this sinful rock ‘n roll. Only Jesus.

Murderous Inbred Rural Family Tired Of Negative Portrayals In Horror

Posted on by Ryan Danley

SEAGRAVES, Texas — Local machete-wielding family of murderous butchers, the Fletchers, are rallying against Hollywood’s constant belittling of their macabre lifestyle, terrified sources report.

“Being an incestous, psycho, nuclear family is an American tradition. But all those Hollyweird movies act like we’re nothing but animals that want to kill people who wander into town. This is our culture. I don’t walk into your fancy California parties and tell you that you’re eating caviar wrong,” said the clan’s Father/Uncle Johansen Fletcher as he defrosted the human meat freezer. “I get that luring drunken college kids to a dilapidated house and eating their skin isn’t everyone’s bag. But we’re human beings and deserve to be treated as such.”

Far right blogger and current Fletcher family hostage, Chet Hawkins is a proud supporter of this classic way of living.

“I feel very fortunate to meet up with a fine American family like the Fletchers. Sure, a lot of global elites would look at me hanging here on this meat hook and expect me to be a nanny state loving commie. But if I didn’t want to be picked up off the side of the road and flayed alive by some grunting man-child wearing a skin mask I should have made sure to avoid the spike strip they set for me. This is about accountability folks,” yelled Hawkins over the sound of a rusty band saw. “A wise man once said I don’t have to agree with your opinion, but I will die for you to have it. And I am literally going to die for these people to have it. End cancel culture. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

University of Alabama Cultural Studies professor Andrew Barnes, feels the plight of the isolationist family has been harmful to the fabric of society.

“The rural lifestyle has taken a beating over the years. They’ve never really recovered from ‘Deliverance.’ I mean you’re more likely to drown in your swimming pool than be killed by one of these families. I don’t see anyone trying to get an angry mob together to torch all swimming pools,” said Barnes. “We have to welcome these people back into the fold. Not push them further out. One sip of the Fletcher family mystery meat stew and you’ll see that these folks aren’t the boogeyman. The Boogeyman clan is in Mississippi.”

Mr. Fletcher was unavailable for further comment as he was busy sewing a quaint nipple belt for his Mom/Aunt’s birthday.

Club Bouncer Not Letting Delta Variant in Without Girls

Posted on by Camden Brazile

PITTSBURGH — A local bouncer at the popular nightclub Shotbar manned his post last night with the adamant mindset to keep the COVID-19 Delta Variant out unless it has at least two girls to bring in with it.

“Safety is our main concern above all else,” said bouncer Charlie Montagg. “Well, hot girls are probably our main concern, but safety is a close second. We would never put people in danger, but if a Delta variant particle pulled up in a stretch hummer with three models on each arm, it would be difficult to turn them away. We try to keep the ratio of at least two girls for every deadly virus mutation here, and I’ve had to toss out a few scraggly-looking COVID variants that are just here to cause trouble. We can only focus on the guy-to-girl ratio in the club, not the white blood cell ratio inside your body, that one is on you.”

Shotbar owner Michael Hannick commented on the nightclub’s policy regarding the Delta variant.

“I’m all for COVID restrictions… until they inconvenience my business literally in any way, that’s where I draw the line,” said Hannick. “I mean, what’s worse: a horrible pandemic that has a death toll in the millions, or a sausage fest? If I’m going to die a slow, painful ICU death, I might as well get some strange the night before. Sure, most of the girls we let in without masks or vaccination cards I’ll never see again, but trust me, the only thing we’re superspreading is a wild night out among adults looking to let loose.”

Pittsburgh Hospital Chief of Medicine Howard Grimly defended the club’s unorthodox admittance policy.

“We’ve started to implement the exact same idea in our emergency room — two girls for every guy,” Grimly said. “Now the coronavirus is the last thing on our patient’s minds, because they’re too busy chatting up all the hot singles. The other day an elderly man brought in his grandson who was sick but too young to get vaccinated, and we sent them packing. Can’t have those guys killing the vibe and have people leaving for another, cooler hospital.”

At press time, Shotbar management was forced to ban Delta Variant from the club after the virus exposed itself to several female members of the staff.

If Alcohol Ruins Families, Why Is Mine Only Tolerable When I’m Drunk?

Posted on by Bobby Korec

They say that alcohol destroys families. But it’s the only thing keeping mine together. I would know, as someone who is always within arms reach of a bottle whenever I make my annual call to them.

Listen, I know that abusing alcohol is completely detrimental to you and those around you, but I’m only drowning my internal organs with literal poison for my family. In fact, I don’t even like drinking. But you try sitting through your dad’s long-winded rant about election fraud or how Antifa was actually responsible for the January 6 riots without being at least a few beers deep.

When your mom compares wearing masks to the holocaust that she also claims only “supposedly” happened, it’s just nice to have some booze in your system as she mentally struggles to explain her logic through straw-man arguments she learned from memes.

Believe me, I would give anything to be in one of those families that don’t need alcohol to love each other. But unfortunately, I’m drunk right now because I just came from a family reunion. It’s almost like alcohol is some magic elixir that helps you power through all the QAnon bullshit your uncle says at family gatherings.

All I know is that you only get one family, which is kind of the problem here. If I had to choose, I would be in one of those families that were rich. That seems nice. I wonder how much those types of families need to drink in order to bear with each other. Probably a lot, right? But at least you have all that money to afford top-shelf cocktails. Worth it.

Anyway, you can say that booze is the glue that is keeping my family together. It’s just too bad that alcohol also kills you and causes you to make terrible decisions, because it actually does wonders when bonding with your family.

Tiny Free Library Bans Tiny Man for Masturbating to Tiny Porn

Posted on by Collin Canning

BIRMINGHAM, Ala. — A tiny, free public library at the foot of a residential driveway was forced to ban an extremely small man who was caught masturbating to itty-bitty pornography on the premises, equally small sources confirm.

“I took this job at Mr. Chisholm’s tiny free library because no other place would hire a librarian under an inch tall. I figured I’d be dealing minuscule hipsters coming in requesting tiny Bukowski and bringing teensy weensy macchiatos into the itty-bitty YA section, but instead I have sex offenders using the place as their personal jerk shack,” said pocket-sized librarian Ms. Schmidt while adjusting her infinitesimally small glasses. “Like, look around! All that we have here is Danielle Steele novels, a couple cookbooks and a half-filled out Mad Libs. I never would have expected this library would turn into a den of filth. But here I am, calling the cops on tiny perverts using the free wifi to look at tiny porn and exposing their tiny members to others”

The pint-sized man who was caught pleasuring himself believes that more must be done to make these kinds of services welcome to everyone.

“If I can’t crank one out here, where can I crank one out?” asked the man who refused to identify himself. “The last spot I used to ‘tame the snake’ had red ants that could tear your body in half. If these places are truly open to the public I would expect a certain amount of tolerance for people who just need to find an indoor place to polish their knob. It’s only proper.”

Connor Chisholm, who erected the tiny library in his driveway, has expressed regret and suggested that he may be in over his head.

“I never could have imagined building the free library in my yard would come with so many responsibilities,” said Chisholm, reviewing Ms. Schmidt’s proposal for improved implementation of the Dewey Decimal System. “I thought it would be fun to provide people in my neighborhood with some free books, reading material should be made available to everyone! But every time I leave my house it’s like an X-rated ‘Indian in the Cupboard’ out there, and frankly, after learning that small men are relieving themselves to tiny Hustlers in my driveway I am second guessing this whole thing. I think it’s time to pull the plug… but not like… ‘pull the plug’ if you know what I mean.”

At press time, the library was cordoned off with teensy-weensy police tape after the discovery of approximately 0.001 grams of cannabis in the tiny library bathroom.

I Get Older, the Guys in My Band Stay the Same Age

Posted on by Eric Navarro

Oiright, oiright, oiright. You know what I love about the local scene? Every four years it completely refreshes. Kids graduate from high school and move on while another group of kids enter high school and join the scene. But not me. Year after year, I remain in the same scene playing the same songs in the same band, just with new members.

See, that’s what I love about these local musicians. I get older, the guys in my band stay the same age.

Four years after I started my band, The Pop Culture References, I was shocked and awed when the rest of my bandmates graduated and went on to college, work, or rehab. At first, I was furious. To me, they were sellouts and traitors to the scene. How dare they only work to help me accomplish my dreams for four years! It was the darkest summer of my life.

That is, until school started back up again and an entirely new group of kids were bringing their guitars to my old high school that I still visit sometimes to catch up on my smoking. I chatted up some of these new fellas and I was impressed to see their enthusiasm for a scene that I thought had completely disappeared the second I stopped playing shows. I have to admit, just a few years ago I would have called them posers, but there was just something about how desperate I was to suspend my adolescence that made me really take a shine to this new crop of scene kids.

Well, after experiencing several cycles of the scene’s death and rebirth, I have a zen-like appreciation for both the lifecycle of the Howard County music scene, and a more mature understanding of the nature of the world itself. I have witnessed my world die and be reborn so many times that time has become meaningless. And I’ll say that again and again to anyone who tries to tell me I should be practicing with a metronome.

I’m basically a punk-time God. I struggle to relate to these mere scene mortals. Like me, my band remains eternal. At some practices, I look around at the interchangeable, faceless mass that is my bandmates and understand why Doctor Manhattan plummeted into nihilism. They may be in the scene now, but to me, they have already graduated.

So here I stand, arms crossed in the back of yet another poorly attended weeknight bar show, staring out at a sea of eternal youth. For I, the only person in here who can legally drink, am the overseer. I always was. I will forever be. For I am a God among freshmen.

Bruce Springsteen Admits He Made Up the “American Working Class” During a Creative Dry Spell

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

COLTS NECK TOWNSHIP, N.J. — Legendary musician Bruce Springsteen recently admitted that he made up the “American working class” during a creative dry spell.

“By ‘78, I had hit a wall with my songwriting,” said an entirely denim-clad Springsteen. “‘Blinded by the Light’ hadn’t charted. Hell, ‘Born to Run’ couldn’t even crack the top twenty. I had completely lost confidence in myself and was just throwing out ideas to the guys in the band. I pitched ‘a place where animals can talk and it’s always Winter,’ but Max Weinberg told me that was just Narnia. I tried writing this epic eight-minute ballad about how Belgians were all illiterate, and that upset Clarence Clemmons so much he almost quit. Then I just said ‘working…class…Americans,’ and the room changed. It was electric.”

Springsteen’s longtime manager Jon Landau heaped praise on his client.

“Bruce is a visionary,” Landau said. “No one but him could have come up with the idea of some mythical social caste of Americans who earn wages via labor, but are able to afford mortgages, car payments and the basic necessities of modern life. Frankly, I was blown away by even the concept of it. The man was basically writing science fiction, but in a way that connected with audiences who were hungry for concerts that last so long you can get fucking blasted and still leave sober.”

“He’s a genius and if you need proof, check out my house in Malibu,” Landau added.

Sociologist Brandon McCarthy viewed the musician’s work as a kind of magical thinking.

“Springsteen’s imagination was so powerful that it nearly created reality,” McCarthy explained. “Not an actual one, of course. America could never and would never support its own workers with a lifestyle remotely sustainable or humane, but songs like ‘The Promised Land’ and ‘The River’ built a kind of cultural shadow-memory that such a thing had ever existed and was remotely possible. Truly, the power of art is nearly limitless. Of course, it is very limited, but you know what I mean.”

As of press time, Springsteen was explaining how he came up with the idea of “New Jersey” after getting wasted in “a shitty part” of Delaware.

We Sat Down With a Jazz Band and Now We Can’t Stop This Heat, Daddio, Please Help

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

Get this, hepcats: we sat down with one of the red hot jazz combos of our times, the Frankie Tops Quintet, and wouldn’t you know it, we couldn’t stop the heat those wild, wild jazz cats were bringing and now it’s in us and please help us, daddio, this is hell.

It was just a routine interview assignment, and we didn’t think much about it, other than we thought it would be a real draaaaaag, man. We got to the spot where it all happens, which is to say the jazz club where the FTs were doing their thing, and as soon as we started asking Frankie Tops questions, this strange thing took over and now we can’t stop. We can’t stop what is happening, you dig me?

Oh, god.

We started with a real jive question about keepin’ it on the eight, because back then we were real slow on the down low, but Frankie made eye contact with us and it was like our legs turned to groovy jell-o, man. We started talking like this, and the band laughed real weird, like a bunch of dewdrops in their glad rags, hear?

Skee, skee skiddily bop!

Then we started talking like this, Johnny Kiss, and it won’t stop happening and we can’t stop and we’re scared and dig that far-out sound of the double bass going blunk blunk blunk! We tried to clap our hands to indicate that the band had stopped playing, but we could only snap our finger, which is so dumb. We ain’t throwing no applesauce on that, and ain’t no one got the beat like Rick Thumbs, the drummer of the quintet?

How did we know that name? And where did this beret come from?

Daddio, this is a living torment. We can’t exist solely as jazz cats be-bopping and telling it to Sweeney! Please! Kill us! Please put us out of our red-hot misery!

It’s the screams we’re not screaming!

Local Man Offers Decoy Compliment on Set Before Launching Into His Thoughts

Posted on by Melissa McGlensey

NEW YORK — Local musician Kelly Evans fell victim to the age-old compliment decoy trap when a man quickly pivoted to unsolicited advice after complimenting her band’s set, sources confirmed.

“I should’ve known better. Normally I can spot his kind a mile away and know how to avoid them. But he tricked me,” Evans said. “He started with a compliment. It made it seem like he actually listened to us up there, so I was caught off guard. He said I was really ‘in the pocket.’ Then, before I could stop him, he started breaking down all the things he thought I did wrong. It was everything from the shoes I wore on stage, to the brand of guitar pick I use, and even our band name. He had so many thoughts.”

A witness to the event confirmed that Evans appeared to be stuck listening to the man for nearly a quarter of an hour.

“I came out of the show and saw her trying to pack up her stuff,” recalled Sean Gullif, a fan of the band. “I was going to say ‘great set’ as I walked by but then I saw that she had her hands full with some dude already. Can you believe the nerve of that guy? When I walked past, I could hear him critiquing her finger picking. I found that surprising, because her finger picking was great! Now, her strumming, on the other hand…”

Fellow musician Anita Jones said this kind of thing happens “all the time.”

“If I had a dollar for every time some douchebag metalhead wanted to give me ‘notes’ after a show, I’d have enough money to make up for the gender pay gap,” Jones said. “Once, this guy came up to me after a gig, said ‘great job,’ and then immediately started telling me he thought I held my bass wrong. He said I needed to readjust the length of my strap, that I should try to keep my legs hip’s distance apart, for some reason. Thing is, I play drums. He did end up instinctively transitioning into showing me proper form to deadlift, and now I’m maxing out at 340, so not all’s lost.”

At press time, the man in question was mistaken for no less than 26 other men in attendance that evening accused of doing the same thing.