terrible punk* jokes

For nopantsparty and everyone else who has the same sense of humor I do.

Q: What has eight arms and kills its girlfriend?
A: Squid Vicious

Q: What do you call a sick skinhead from Chicago?
A: An Illin’ Oi!

Q: When a punk and a skinhead are in the backseat of a car, who’s driving?
A: A cop.

Q: What’s the difference between a hippie and a trampoline?
A: You take your boots off when you jump on a trampoline.

Q: How many ska punx (or rude boys) does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Ten. One to drop it and nine to say “Pick it up! Pick it up! Pick it up!”

Q: How many riot grrrls does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Two. One to change it, and the other to write a song about how she did it so much better than a man could.

Q: How many skinheads does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Ten. One to change it, and nine to get his back.

Q: How many sXe kids does it take to drink a six pack?
A: One, when none of his friends are looking.

Q: Why do anarchists only drink herbal tea?
A: Because proper-tea is theft.

Q: What’s the symbol for a Canadian anarchist?
A: A circle, eh?

And the one I don’t actually have memorized, but love…

Q: How many Crimethinc kids does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: There were only two of us, wandering listlessly in the night. The city glowed bright in all of its excess. When we stepped foot in that abandoned warehouse, the first thing we saw was the burned out lightbulbs, hanging from the mold-spattered ceiling. It only took us a couple minutes to switch out that vacuum-filled shell. We hadn’t only made a change in the warehouse, but in our hearts. We climbed up to the roof to watch the stars, cars zipping by like ants, oblivious to the beauty that rests above them. When we woke up to the sun-rise we knew, we just fucking knew, we could could change a hell of a lot more than just lightbulbs. (from here)

1. What's one of your favorite childhood memories? 2. If you were a cupcake, what kind would you be? 3. What's one of your guilty pleasures?


1. Me and my best Ali, making up silly dances to Red Hot Chili Peppers songs; either that, or Ali teaching me how to suck the nectar out of honeysuckle blossoms.

2. Red velvet.

3. I don’t really believe in guilty pleasures, I’m of the mindset, to paraphrase Dave Grohl: “If you like something, just fucking like it.” That said - police/crime dramas. I don’t like cops, but I love cop dramas on TV.

Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea’s throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.

T. S. Eliot, from section V of “Little Gidding,” in the Four Quartets (Harcourt, 1943)

(via bonewhiteglory)

No story is like a wheeled vehicle whose contact with the road is continuous. Stories walk, like animals or men. And their steps are not only between narrated events but between each sentence, sometimes each word. Every step is a stride over something not said.

The suspense story is a modern invention…and consequently today one may tend to overestimate the role of suspense, the waiting-for-the-end, in story-telling. The essential tension in a story lies elsewhere. Not so much in the mystery of its destination as in the mystery of the spaces between its steps towards that destination.

All stories are discontinuous and are based on a tacit agreement about what is not said, about what connects the discontinuities. The question then arises: Who makes this agreement with whom? One is tempted to reply: The teller and the listener. Yet neither teller nor listener is at the centre of the story: they are at its periphery. Those whom the story is about are at the centre. It is between their actions and attributes and reactions that the unstated connections are being made.




Cathy G Johnson has been nominated for this year’s Ignatz Award in “Promising New Talent” for damn good reason. Visit her and vote next month at SPX 2014. Here’s her seriously good (and unfortunately timely) comic from As You Were #3. Visit this Tumblr next week for our interview with Cathy and more arts!

As You Were is a punk-comix anthology series featuring new stories by our favorite independent artists from punk communities around the world. The theme for issue #3 is “Big, Big Changes”, available for [purchase here from Silver Sprocket].

As You Were is a great read and I recommend it!

Kid tested, John Darnielle approved. What are the rest of you waiting for?

Don’t be so vain to think that you ruined me,
that you wrecked me,
destroyed me.
I am the only one who has the power to do that.

I loved you, and I ruined myself,
I wrecked myself,
I destroyed myself.

And I will keep doing so for as long as I am breathing.

Amanda Helm  (via facina-oris)

Yes. Reminds me very much of:

I know my mind and I have made my choice;
Not from your temper does my doom depend;
Love me or love me not, you have no voice
In this, which is my portion to the end.
Your presence and your favours, the full part
That you could give, you now can take away:
What lies between your beauty and my heart
Not even you can trouble or betray.
Mistake me not — unto my inmost core
I do desire your kiss upon my mouth;
They have not craved a cup of water more
That bleach upon the deserts of the south;
Here might you bless me; what you cannot do
Is bow me down, who have been loved by you.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay

(via having-an-existential-crisis)