“THWTD! STSSOTBS!’s vocals are entirely produced using a Speak-n-Spell passed through a vocoder,” reports Nickie Roberts of Rolling Stone. “The percussion consists of sounds made by hitting a toaster with progressively larger objects, straying into fruit noises and, on the ninth disc, meat.”

“I appreciate the 38th track’s Deconstructionist attempt to categorically replicate every annoying sound encountered in our daily lives,” said freelance critic Daniel Swayze. “However, after the first 7 vignettes, finishing with a remarkably panoramic movement comprised of sixteen different Belches, I found myself less than willing to proceed onto Car Alarms, Dogs Barking, or the Dot Matrix Printer Noise when I knew that Someone Eating Pork Rinds was still ahead.”

The band, however, doesn’t have a problem with everyone hating their guts. “THWTD! STSSOTBS! isn’t a band most people can get into,” said ‘post-guitarist’ Mac Bronson. “We’re taking Indie Rock to its logical extreme: we’re not only prodücing music that no one has heard of, but that no one would want to hear.”

None of the musicians play instruments. Their stage show involves the self-described ‘post-drummer’ Matt Geofred throwing rotten eggs at the audience while the two ‘post-guitarists’ drag their fingernails down a blackboard in a repetitive manner, mic’d by the ‘post-keyboardist’ Cham Kellings, while their sound technician raps in a dull, monotone voice with no apparent will to live.

“We think it’s an eloquent statement of just how annoying life in the postmodern world can be,” said Kellings.

This article was originally published by readme, which is a thing.

I once read the entire Marmaduke comic described succinctly as “The big dog is on something you want.” I think there’s an even simpler explanation: the cartoonist is not funny at all.

This is a good example for starters. The humor of this particular strip relies on the basic and horrifically dumb assumption that kids are so stupid they can’t tell a dog from a person in a costume. Brilliant, Anderson. Brilliant. Also, kids these days NEVER say “Gosh, Mister.” They’re much more likely to say “Holy fuck!”

This one also relies on the assumption that Marmaduke’s owner did not notice at all as the dog led him into a rail yard, up a ladder, and onto the top of a train. But not ONLY was the owner so clueless that he didn’t pick up on that part of the journey, he didn’t even notice when the train started MOVING. Also, how does a dog get on top of a train? And most importantly, who the fuck asks a dog for a shortcut? I guess the same guy who doesn’t know he’s on top of a MOVING TRAIN until it’s too late.

“Just so long as we get far enough away to dispose of this body… I only need a few minutes.”

AND YOU HAVE LIKE SIXTY HEADS! WHAT THE FUCK, DOG?

Warkinson, who is currently the Sanitation Commissioner of Duluth, MN, said he was stunned by the projection. “I had never really considered national politics,” he said, musing over his options. “But if it’s gonna happen whether I want it to or not, well hell, next cycle might be the time to run for the House after all. I’ve started thinking about campaign slogans. ‘Nobody cleans up a shitty mess better than Bill Warkinson!’ … It’s a work in progress.”

Also posted were projections as far down the line as 2064. Although projected winner Pablo Jarvis has not yet been born, his victory seems certain, says Silver in his analysis of the data. “His parents have not yet met,” Silver writes, “and yet their marriage is as clearly a part of their destiny as their inevitable divorce. When he is five, his parents will buy him a puppy which he will name Sparky, and after the divorce, his father will get dog visitation rights. At age 8, Jarvis will stop publicly eating his boogers, though he will always continue to do so in private.”

Silver’s predictions have become so accurate that some voting precincts now accept his estimates as the official total. “If he’s just going to be so damn accurate, why would we waste our time counting ballots when we could be at home constantly refreshing FiveThirtyEight?” asked Bucks County, PA Election Commissioner Rory Walsh.

“I don’t plan on voting ever again,” said former voter Janine Murphy, of Reno, NV. “What’s the point? History is already written, and it’s pointless to try and stop it. It’s all a part of Silver’s—ah, I mean, God’s—plan.”

We asked Silver if he was concerned about the paradoxical dangers of self-fulfilling prophecies, but he could not hear us over the buzzing hum of his time machine’s flux capacitor.