IT HAPPENED - THE COMMUNITY OF JOE

I grew up in Texas. Some time in the mid-80s, my mom was put in charge of the Dharma Study Group. What that meant was that we rented a little house in a different area of town, and once a week, everyone in her group would get together and meditate. On Sundays. The group attracted a lot of different types. Call them seekers.

IT HAPPENED - MY FAMILY GOT A ROOSTER

Oh hello there. How was your holiday? Wonderful, glad to hear it. Mine was swell, except for being jarred awake at 5:30 four mornings in a row by a FUCKING ROOSTER CROWING ON MY PARENTS' PATIO! Just to be clear: My folks do not live on a farm or practice voodoo. Their house is in a pleasant, middle-class neighborhood and is situated on less than an acre of land. So how did they end up with a year-old domesticated fowl? I'll tell you...

IT HAPPENED: I WAS HIT BY A SPEEDING CAR

There I was, on the side of the highway, trying to decide if I should hightail it out of town (I'm getting really sick of begging for mussels) or stick with what I know. It's cozy in Cozze, as they like to say, even if it's a little small for an adventurer such as myself. As I was deciding screw it, I'm heading into the wild blue yonder—wham! My shoulder torqued against some prick's speeding Pugeot. In the kind of bizarre twist of physics that makes you believe you'll meet your parallel universe doppelganger and the two of you will enjoy all the trash and humping two canines could possibly handle, I was sucked inside the car, where I hung on for dear life for 15 long miles inside the fucking grill. I'm fine, minus the smear of flesh I lost on the bumper. When I popped out I bit the shit out of that jerk. You can read about my story here.

GIUSEPPE

IT HAPPENED: I FELL OUT OF A MOVING TRUCK

A couple weekends ago a few friends and I went down to Gainesville, Florida, to see some bands and drink some beers. You can shoot down to Jacksonville from NYC on JetBlue, rent a crappy car and spend a few days in downtown Gainesville without spending much money at all, but as a concession to the poor friend in our group (not to name names, Daniel Jensen Cain), we had to make poor people sleeping arrangements. Specifically, we had plans to stay with a friend of a friend, a nice wiry fellow named Dustin.

MELBOURNE - A REASON TO BE HOMESICK

Well, Melbournians, Uncle Sharkey 's heart is thumping for the land of his birth-Philadelphia-with a pain resembling the feeling of a thousand hooker's urinary tracts burning simultaeneously. I yearn for the halcion days of my youth- a youth filled with muggings, rapes and the bombing of an entire city block like a mother mourns a fallen son. I'm actually lying. I now present exhibit A of one of the many reason I'm not missing jackshit by leaving that turkey town.

DENMARK - NAZI PLAYHOUSE UNCOVERED

Well, it looks like they've uncovered another Nazi treefort in the sand dunes of Denmark, fully furnished and available to move into on the first of the month! Wicker chairs, remote fireplace, rotating minibar, you name it-they had it! I knew Hitler's boys had taste! It's also comforting to know that Boyd Rice and Death In June fans will have brand new stroke material to help conjure up their hateful Nazi noodle sauce to feed their dying, invalid mothers just before crying themselves off to sleep.

IT HAPPENED - THE ULTIMATE BUZZKILL

There are few things in this world more terrifying than fucking up while stoned. Like that anti-weed PSA where the kid is playing around with his dad's gun and he accidentally blows his friend's face off. Yes it's hilarious, but can you even begin to imagine the magnitude of stress you would experience if you were the shooter? You'd go instantly bald. Now, what if, instead of some middle schooler with a bowl cut, you bestonedly shot your pet rabbit? And what if, instead of shooting it with a gun, you just looked down at the bunny and there was suddenly blood spurting out of its paw? We wouldn't wish that kind of freakout on our worst enemy, but this weekend somebody apparently wished it on a house full of well-meaning partiers in Brooklyn...