Get Your Dick Crushed by Dickcrush Records

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We here at Toilet ov Hell have dedicated ourselves to seeking only the most relevant, most lofty, and most artistically pure musical endeavo… Nah. We really like dicks, and we talk about them a lot. My DickDickbuttSatanic Necroboner. Based on the reception these posts have gotten, we assume y’all like schlongs too. Too much, perhaps, for once the dick devil has been unleashed, it cannot be sheathed. Oh well. We have brought this dickocalypse upon ourselves, so we might as well take some pleasure in it. It is under that auspice that we discovered that previously featured dickgrinders Goolagoon had been signed to Dickcrush records. When I messaged Joe Rodengill and Masterdong to see if this label was worth a roundup, I was met with a flurry of approving helicoptering. However, for a whimsical record label like Dickcrush, regular old album reviews won’t do. So instead, I’m going to smash your mind shafts with some silly allegorical tales of phallic devastation.

Lord Slug – Restless

In the year 2030, mankind launched a dozen large shuttles into outer space in a desperate bid to preserve what was left of humanity from the imminent cataclysm. Climate change, autonomous warfare, libertarian politics, and male rights activism had left the Earth a desolate wasteland, but as long as humanity’s best and brightest could be spared, there remained hope. The shuttles drifted through space for twenty long years; there was little to do on board aside from smoking weed or copulating. Unfortunately for homely and chubby Richard Pullman, there were few women on board Shuttle 9, so Richard spent most of his days lighting up and seeking special spots on the shuttle to reach that perfect buzz. Every passing day found Richard trying more desperate measures to get high. One day Richard decided he would go into the anti-gravity dock and light up during a mandatory security lockdown due to a passing meteor shower. Richard had snagged some dank herb, and in his smoked-out state forgot that the normal power used to regulate the on-board temperature was actually being rerouted to the repulsor shields. Richard underestimated how warm he would get hotboxing himself in a full suit of space armor, and finding himself sweaty and baked, soon disrobed and propelled himself through the purple haze to check out the trippy rocks flashing by outside the porthole window.  Suddenly, a meteor ripped through the ship’s hull and smashed directly into Richard’s groin. His dick was crushed.

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Biledrops – Devastation – Annihilation – Destruction – Extinction

William Turner was an angry young man. He lacked the social graces and charming good looks of many of his affluent classmates, and all his romantic advances during high school had been rebuffed by the bourgeoisie young ladies with whom he was forced to interact. Rather than attempting to develop a valuable skill or improve himself in any way. young Bill projected his aggression outward, dressing all in black and listening to that awful screamy music his classmates hated. As his misanthropy grew, so did his isolation; this feedback loop eventually forced Bill into an almost complete separation from meaningful contact with his classmates. But still, Bill was determined to prove to those shallow women that he was desirable, so he concocted the perfect scheme. Late one night, Bill used the skeleton key set he stole from his older brother’s underwear drawer and broke into the school. Stealthily he snuck around the school with power tools in hand, acquiring the requisite items to complete his last desperate effort to prove his alpha standing. After many hours of hard labor, his task was almost complete. Bill just needed one last pièce de résistance. Using a sawsall he had knicked from the shop room, Bill removed Stacy Stravorsky’s locker from the wall and hauled it to the roof to fasten it atop his effigial monolith of virility he had erected through his hard labors. This tower, this bastion of his love would surely show Stacy how desirable he was. Finally, Bill completed his shrine just as the BMWs and Ford Mustangs owned by his classmates rolled into the parking lot. As Stacy approached the main entrance Bill swung himself out upon his parapet and professed his love to the object of his affection. Suddenly, the locker jarred loose, and the entire contraption plummeted to the ground below in a clatter of industrial tools and metallic plates. The locker itself landed atop Bill’s pelvis. His dick was crushed.

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Gliese 436 B – Gas and Dust

Manny Long was a self-professed nerd. He played D’n’D on the weekends with his old college buddies. He watched anime with his girlfriend. He worked at a software company. Most importantly, though, he was obsessed with the thought of extraterrestrial life. So much so that Manny spent most of his time when he wasn’t at work or hanging with his friends trying to pick up signals from outer space. Manny had earned a degree in sound engineering, and he was certain that with the right equipment human beings could find alien life. Perhaps then we could contact them. Then, bright men like Manny may even be able to meet them face to face. And, if everything worked just so, men like Manny could mate with them. That was his dream, anyway. So Manny toiled on for years on r/conspiracy and other sites doing all that he could to learn of space signals and to build connections with other like-minded UFO enthusiasts. Finally, late one August night, Manny got an invitation from SETI to visit the Allen Telescope Array near San Francisco. He had been working on some new audio software that the SETI scientists were interested in testing, so he was asked to join a research team. Manny spent several nights scanning the stars, using his new software in an attempt to identify a certain kind of signal. Then, one fateful evening, the impossible happened. A signal the SETI team had sent into space with Manny’s program bounced back. Even more intriguingly was that the object seemed to be approaching Earth. Rapidly, and it was heading straight for the ATA facility. Manny and the others stepped outside to survey the oncoming object. As it entered the atmosphere, the heat from reentry reflected off a visibly metallic surface. As the realization that the object likely was not going to stop dawned on everyone, the research team began scattering away from the satellite. Everyone except Manny. The object struck the main array, crippling the infrastructure, before smashing into the ground just few dozen yards from Manny. As the dust settled, Manny stood still, certain that his time had come. A strange, alien light shone from the crater as a hatch opened in the stellar object. Suddenly, a gorgeous, green-skinned woman climbed out of the craft. As she seductively sauntered up the crater towards Manny, the researcher found himself paralyzed with lust. Just then, the destabilized satellite superstructure collapsed, and a main support joist swung down and collided with his midsection. His dick was crushed.

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I hope you’ve found these stories stimulating. In all seriousness, there’s a huge amount of diversity on this roster, and all of the groups listed here are rising stars in their field. You should definitely check all of these emissions out and drop them some ducats from your coin pouch. There are a whole host of items to objectify on Facebook, Bandcamp, and the Dickcrush store. Now, go forth and crush dicks in the comments, my friends. Peni, vidi, vici, as they say. Just don’t post any dick pics. Some of us browse this site at work, you dick.
(All Photos VIA)
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