Depressed Woman Terrified Her Plane Won’t Crash

Posted on by Dom Turek

NEW YORK — An unruly passenger disrupted service aboard Delta Flight 180 flying from LaGuardia Airport to Los Angeles International Airport after she became increasingly distressed upon learning the recently inspected plane was in full working order and expected to land at its predetermined destination with a 100 percent survival rate, sources confirmed. 

“I popped a sedative before take off, but it wasn’t enough to stop the panic attack,” said the anxious passenger, Amanda Decarlo. “I couldn’t shake the gruesome image of all 250 passengers, some of them children, surviving the flight without incident and being thrust back into the brutal, meaningless humdrum of everyday life. After the pilot’s impeccable handling of turbulence at an altitude of 40,000 feet, I knew we were in good hands. That’s when the fear really started to creep in.”

Passengers sitting closest to the panic-stricken woman remained unaware of her phobia until the final leg of the flight, when the captain announced over the loudspeaker that the local weather in Los Angeles was 78 degrees and sunny, and that the aircraft was “on track to arrive slightly ahead of schedule.” 

“She seemed pretty normal until she asked to switch seats with me so she could look out the window,” said passenger Mary Gutierrez. “She [Decarlo] mumbled something about ‘wanting a front-row seat for when this hunk of junk nosedives into the Rocky Mountains.’ In the interest of small talk, I asked what her plans were after landing, but she only mentioned looking forward to never again having to go to the dentist, stub her toe, or hear the cashier ask if she wanted the receipt emailed or printed.”  

As technology advances, some of the more melancholic passengers have been forced to confront the stark reality that, in all likelihood, the plane will land safely on the tarmac where a shuttle bus will be waiting to transport them to the nearest Hertz. 

“If you try to please everybody, you’ll end up pleasing no one,” said Jay Turnage, pilot of Flight 180. “Unfortunately, for some of our more despondent passengers, due to increased protocols and advancements in aerial innovation, we simply aren’t able to guarantee an unsafe flight. But we do our best to keep people on their toes with the occasional total hydraulic loss or uncontained engine failure.” 

At press time, Decarlo appeared more reassured after the oxygen mask accidentally deployed above her seat.

Co-Worker Who Started Watching Soccer Last Week Already Knows Enough to Mansplain

Posted on by Cam Berkowitz

RALEIGH, N.C. — Local procurement specialist Will Abbott revealed that he spent nearly an entire afternoon skimming the rules, players, and developing storylines of competitive soccer, providing him with enough knowledge to condescendingly explain the sport to women, confirmed sources. 

“Ever since I watched my first match last week, I’ve become something of a hooligan for the beautiful game,” Abbott said. “As the office’s resident expert, it’s my job to make sure that all the casual fans know what they’re talking about, including that it’s actually called ‘football,’ not ‘soccer.’ I wouldn’t want them to embarrass themselves in front of their friends or husbands! Weirdly, nobody has asked me any questions yet—I think they must be intimidated by me—so I’ve made a point to interrupt any conversation even remotely related to the sport and immediately share my thoughtful and compelling takes. It’s important that I speak as loudly as possible when opining on the intricacies of the game, so that even co-workers wearing headphones have the opportunity to learn something about our nation’s fourth most popular sport.”

Abbott’s colleagues at Granstrum Dynamics have been hesitant to fully engage with his attempts at conversation.

“We had the game on in the break room, and Will spent our entire lunch hour announcing whether each player was on or offside,” said Abbott’s co-worker Brenda Romero. “At one point he claimed the ref was offside—I don’t even think that’s possible. Then he tried to argue that all the best games end 0-0, and he made sure we knew that it’s actually called nil-nil. I try to just ignore him. Now that his wife took their kids, pretending to know a lot about soccer is the only thing he has going for him.”

Abbott, whose own soccer career ended after scoring an own goal in the second grade, is not the only one to let his newfound enthusiasm for the sport turn him into his workplace’s most insufferable employee, which is why representatives from FIFA provided their opinion on the matter.

“Mansplaining is one of our sport’s most storied traditions, and the knowledge required to do so has never been more accessible,” said FIFA spokesperson Callum Sims. “Our broadcast partners are providing 24/7 coverage across cable, streaming packages, and our official mobile app, so now new fans across the globe can adopt the tools they need to arrogantly demonstrate their superiority to their helpless officemates.”

At press time, Abbott was less than a year away from mansplaining the Women’s World Cup.

Bro, the Only Reason the Strokes Made It Is Because They’re Nepo Babies and Their Debut Album’s an All-Time Classic

Posted on by Kyle Donley

Oh, you like The Strokes? Yeah, that’s cool. You know they were all like little rich glitterati kids from New York City, though, right? Like going to galas and Sotheby’s auctions and shit. Garage rock revival my ass! I’m sure those leather jackets weren’t cheap either. Not like the ones we bought at Forever 21. I even heard they like, paid people to make their sneakers look dirty, it’s wild. But that’s how the industry works, man. All you need is daddy’s checkbook and an era-defining debut album to make it big!

I swear if it weren’t for their seminal debut album, or their excellent follow-up Room on Fire, or the rest of their albums which are actually pretty decent, The Strokes would just be another early aughts footnote. But noooo, 25 years later, and they still get to headline festivals and have successful solo projects because they’ve made a “career” out of being really gifted musicians whose songs we all know and love. Such bullshit. I mean, they’re basically The Vines but with trust funds. And like, much better songs.

The whole thing is pretty much rigged. Looking back on it now, my band, Kevin’s Nightmare, never stood a chance. First of all, my dad works at the post office, so what was he ever gonna do for us? Pass our demo along to the Postmaster? Fuck that guy! Secondly, our debut EP Lunch For Breakfast is really bad. There’s only four songs and none of them are memorable or good. It was recorded on a TalkBoy, but instead of sounding lo-fi and cool, it mostly sounded like drunk guys who didn’t know how to write or record music. We also had to have 2 bassists because the only instruments we had were 2 basses.

Not like the dainty little Strokes boys who had the proper amount of instruments for a rock band and got to record in fancy studios, pinkies pointed outward as they strummed their custom-made guitars, delicately soft hands diddling their vintage Moog synthesizers, and so on. Must’ve been real nice to have the financial freedom to practice songs on their instruments until they had timeless classics with catchy hooks and memorable choruses. Normal guys like us don’t have the luxury of being “disciplined” or setting and achieving “goals” or doing “heroin” with “Ryan Adams”. But hey, some guys are just born with shitty dads.  

We Sat Down With Anti-Trans Swimmer Riley Gaines To Find Out What Other Sports She Fucking Sucks At

Posted on by Steve Packosky

If you’re fortunate enough to have never heard of anti-trans activist Riley Gaines, she is a former collegiate swimmer who came in fifth place in the 200-yard freestyle NCAA championship, and decided to blame whatever personal shortcomings contributed to her sub-par performance on a trans swimmer who participated in the same race. We recently got a chance to interview her, and found it to be a perfect opportunity to find out what other sports she fucking sucks at.

The Hard Times: Hi Riley, it’s nice to meet you.

Riley Gaines: Happy to be here.

HT: So what’s new with you?

RG: Well, I just gave a speech to Republicans in Adams County, Illinois, at the Lincoln Reagan Trump Dinner to warn them about the dangers of the Woke Mob, and—

HT: Right, and are you as bad at public speaking as you are at swimming?

RG: Excuse me?

HT: It’s well known that you got famous for being a shitty swimmer, and we were wondering what other sports you’re total fucking trash at. Volleyball? Softball? You also have to be completely ass at those, right? Is that a trans person’s fault, too?

RG: That’s really unfair. I competed collegiately and —

HT: Yeah, we saw. You came in sixth. Woooo, roll out the red carpet for the sixth-place finisher! Did you get a participation trophy, or do you somehow suck too hard for even that?

RG: OK, I think we’re done here.

HT: Oh, did this interview not pan out as you had hoped? Which trans person are you going to blame that on? 

RG: Goodbye.

HT: Just so you know, traffic is bumper-to-bumper out there, but we’re still willing to bet it’s crawling by faster than you can swim. Maybe you can complain to the DMV that all the trans drivers are slowing you down. Bye, Riley!

There you have it. She interviews about as well as she swims. We didn’t get an answer to our question, but we can safely assume Riley sucks shit at every other sport she’s ever played. Stay tuned for our upcoming interview with politician Nancy Mace to see if she fucking sucks at being a U.S. representative as much as she did at running for governor.

Cheryl Hines Dies From Sepsis After Kissing RFK Jr. On the Lips

Posted on by Brett Olsen

WASHINGTON — A much-needed romantic night out ended in tragedy after Cheryl Hines finally kissed Robert F. Kennedy Jr. on the lips, leading to an inevitable, fatal case of sepsis, confirmed sources.

“We’ve been married since 2014, so trust me—we kiss a lot,” a defensive Kennedy began. “There’s just no way that my frothy saliva, always dissolving an assortment of decaying meat-crud from the depths of my gums, could dismantle her immune system. She probably took some rushed vaccine or used a soap that’s too effective when I wasn’t looking. Yeah, that’s it! I mean, we’re both fit, which is why we planned this romantic getaway to begin with—she’s an actress, I’m acting as the Secretary of Health, and we were planning on more than just kisses—sex. We were planning on having sexual intercourse.”

Scott Anderson, their visibly shaken server at a restaurant called Boned Broth, desperately wanted to share his account of what led up to Hines’ passing.

“I should have said something. From the moment I saw what happened in the b-b-bathroom, I should have,” Anderson trailed off, clasping his trembling hands together. “RFK Jr. sat down in a stall. Then came number-two sounds. He never shut his door. I saw everything in the mirror. He didn’t flush, or wipe, or wash his hands. When he realized he had company, he looked right at me and just…started laughing? But it was somehow a howl, too. I never heard anything like it—made the hair on my neck stand up, so I turned and ran. Fight-or-flight response—I really wish I fought for her instead of fleeing like a coward.”

Acting Director of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention Jay Bhattacharya let out a heavy sigh before pulling out a massive case file once he heard the news.

“This is going to make mad cow disease look like ‘Chicken Little,’” the gruff Bhattacharya meandered while sharpening a large bowie knife. “Since we first crossed paths, that RFK Jr. has been a volatile firecracker begging for a spark. Sounds like he finally met his match. Till death do us part, I suppose. I’m not going to sugarcoat this—whatever RFK Jr. was containing has finally escaped, and there’s no going back. This is humanity’s 9/11.” 

At press time, Kennedy gurgled the word “lawyer” while Googling “taxidermy near me.”

Friend Who Says They Don’t Need Therapy Sure Is Talking Your Goddamn Ear Off About Their Problems

Posted on by Kevin Coutu

CHICAGO — Your friend who insists they don’t need therapy, which they describe as self-indulgent bullshit for weak people desperate for validation, sure is talking your goddamn ear off about every problem they have accumulated over their lifetime, sources confirmed Friday.

“I’ve spent entire evenings being held emotionally hostage by this guy after making the mistake of asking how he’s been,” you said. “He’ll start by saying he’s ‘totally fine’ then almost immediately jump into a three-hour monologue about his childhood, exes, and overall inability to feel joy. At one point tonight, I tried to just pause him for a minute by going to the restroom, but he just followed me and kept talking about his parents, recurring anxiety dreams, and the panic attack he had in a CVS parking lot this morning through the door.”

When asked why they won’t just go to therapy, your friend Dave Mays was quick to respond.

“Dude, therapy is fake. I mean, what are you doing, paying somebody to tell you what to do or what a special unique snowflake you are? Come on, just fix your problems yourself like a grown-ass adult,” said Mays, before immediately launching into his fear of abandonment, a detailed account of his parents’ divorce, and a humiliating seventh-grade basketball incident that still keeps him awake at night. “It’s like, do you even have friends? Talk to them, weirdo. Unless, obviously, your problems involve those friends, in which case you can’t really talk to them without potentially damaging the relationship. Man, if only there were some kind of neutral stranger to tell all your problems to, without fear of judgment or reprisal. Kinda sucks that no one has thought of that. But anyway, what was I saying about my crippling fear of intimacy?”

Behavioral psychologist Dr. Alicia Rennick said it is very common for people to want to process their emotions more “naturally.”

“Many individuals who reject therapy choose to process their emotions on their own, organically, by coercing friends into providing thousands of dollars worth of unpaid psychological labor every week,” said Rennick. “This type of individual does not want traditional therapy and instead prefers to haphazardly recreate the entire therapeutic process, without confidentiality protections or the freedom to speak honestly, and with significantly more text messages sent after midnight asking if they’re fundamentally broken as human beings.”

At press time, Mays had reportedly started complaining how annoying people who say they have “trauma” are, before wondering aloud whether he sabotages every meaningful relationship in his life because he believes he doesn’t deserve love.

Quitting Drinking for Attention Leads Man to Relapse for Attention

Posted on by Adam Frost-Venrick

SANTA FE, N.M. — Local man Jacob Wilmer recently gave up drinking for attention, only to relapse for even more attention, confirmed sources.

“I’m often prone to little japes when I’m not getting the attention I feel I deserve,” said Wilmer. “Like when I bought a senior dog so I could have brownie points for adopting it and then sympathy while I watched it die. Or my ambiguous illness that no one can figure out and the doctors don’t think is there. The one that makes me incredibly sick when my friends get married. I’m a japer. It’s what I do. This is just another classic Jacob jape. And let’s face it, straight-edge people are already super annoying about it, so getting on the wagon was a natural idea. Falling off again was just a perk.”

Still, not everyone has been so enthused about this latest ploy for attention. 

“Quitting drinking is one of the best decisions you can make for your health,” said wife Nadia Wilmer. “So when Jay told me that’s what he was doing for his resolution this year, I was thrilled. Then I realized he was only saying it so all our friends could hear. Cut to five months later and nobody’s asking him why he only orders zero-proof IPAs and suddenly he becomes Mr. ‘I’m Gonna Down Three Mai Tai’s And Get Behind the Wheel of My Car.’ I suppose we’re just lucky that family settled out of court.” 

Concerned friends and family gathered for an intervention at the Wilmer family home only to discover this too had been a booby-trap for their sympathy. 

“Jacob was deeply disruptive and disrespectful all the way through his intervention,” said long-time friend Adrian Gomez. “Blurting out obscenities whenever he got the chance and accusing us all of being hypocrites and enablers. But you could also tell he wanted us to drag out the letter reading as long as possible. It was fun for him. And honestly, I kind of enjoyed it too.”

At press time, Jacob Wilmer was reportedly attending his first AA meeting in the hopes that he could become one of those guys in the program that constantly says shit like, “It works if you work it” and “Meeting Makers Make It.”

We Sit Down With the Original Lookmaxxer, Mickey Rourke!

Posted on by Ian Steffé

Braden Eric Peters, aka “Clavicular,” has been the figurehead of a movement of young men altering their looks in unconventional, sometimes violent ways to achieve masculinity of their own design. To understand this controversial practice, we sat down with a man who seemed to invent the concept of being in direct combat with his own face: Mickey Rourke.

THT: Thanks for taking the time to talk LookMaxxing with us Mr. Rourke. So, what’s your morning routine look like? 

ROURKE: I wake up with a full 8 hours after being punched to sleep.  When my eyes open, I wait for my body to agree it still belongs to me, checking what still works and what has already started to go. Sheila, the waitress, she holds my head in her lap. Says she wants me to take her away from all this. I don’t answer. I just listen until the moment passes.

What does a typical day of eating look like for you?

I do what’s called “The Original Mediterranean Diet.” I eat steaks after they’ve been on my eye to reduce the swelling. I then chase that down with a few eggs out of a coffee mug I also use as an ashtray.

These are only sources of fuel. It is to maintain my body as an instrument that smokes cigarettes and writes poetry about Marvin Hagler. 

What’s your biggest beauty or grooming tip?

Fuck, there’s blood on my shirt.

How much does confidence matter compared to physical appearance?

I only care what dogs think. Big, small, doesn’t matter. A dog doesn’t perform for you, doesn’t dress up the truth. There is a purity to them. You can shake hands with one, sure. But push it far enough, leave it hungry long enough, and it stops being polite, if you know what I mean.

I have never lost a fight to a dog, you hear me? But we always walked away the closest of friends.

Do you have any advice for the younger people who want to begin their own journey of physical transformation?

Yes sir, a dog knows exactly what he is. You can make fun of the dog’s movies. You can steal a dog’s beautiful turquoise belt. You can break his nose. Pee on him a little, but in a rude way (not the kind he pays for). Leave him unconscious out in the rain.

I’m saying I’m the dog here. I hope you caught that.

Even Harsher Feedback Coming From Noise Artist’s Dad

Posted on by Kevin Coutu

BROOKLYN, N.Y. — Even harsher feedback was reportedly coming Monday from a local noise artist’s dad, whose sustained barrage of personal insults and practical life advice could be heard throughout an otherwise overwhelmingly abrasive experimental music set, confused audience members confirmed.

“There was already all this feedback and scraping metal and what sounded like someone dragging a microwave down a staircase,” said audience member Colin Mercer. “Then there was the shouting coming from the back of the venue, adding this whole new layer of sonic texture from the artist’s father calling his son a talentless burnout fucking around with garbage instead of getting a real job. I thought the set had already peaked, but then the dad started saying that his brother’s plumbing company was still hiring and that nobody in the family understood why his son insisted on living like this at 38. It was brutal. I can’t wait for the next show.”

The veteran noise artist, Trevor Hale, was remarkably upbeat about the performance after the conclusion of his set.

“You know, I felt an unusually engaged energy from the crowd tonight, especially during the sections where I was exploring collapse, repetition, and the violence of sustained psychic abrasion through contact microphones and amplified sheet metal,” said Hale, unaware the audience heard every word his father said. “Audiences rarely remain that intensely silent and emotionally pinned down for such long stretches. You could tell everybody in the room was really absorbing the emotional architecture of the entire performance.”

Experimental music critic Dana Vescovi explained that the confrontation aligned naturally with the genre’s core artistic goals.

“Noise music is frequently intended to evoke discomfort, alienation, and prolonged emotional strain, but most performers can only simulate those sensations through distortion, volume, or repetition,” said Vescovi. “When Hale’s father calmly spent 40 straight minutes outlining all the normal, achievable life paths his son had deliberately avoided, the audience experienced an unusually pure form of psychic devastation that many contemporary noise acts spend years unsuccessfully attempting to produce.”

At press time, fans were reportedly excited to see if his father had any solo stuff they could check out.

‘I Need To Have Kids to Leave a Legacy,’ Says Man Whose Legacy Will Be DUIs

Posted on by Adam Frost-Venrick

ZANESVILLE, Ohio — Local Payroll Specialist and office pest Derek Norton decided to prioritize having children as a means of carrying on his supposed “family legacy,” despite his true legacy still being his three DUIs, confirmed sources who witnessed the man come to this conclusion following a near death experience at an adults-only trampoline park last Friday evening. 

“I’m good breeding stock,” Norton incorrectly self-reported. “I have to have children to pass on my genes, which have an enormous tolerance for alcohol; my fine motor skills, which are fine enough to nearly dodge a school bus; and my pain tolerance, which can’t feel a nail even after it’s dug all the way through the meat of my foot. I mean let’s face it: without children and not counting the dent to the side of the Papa John’s, what does a man really leave behind?”

Still, the quest for love has not been an easy one for Norton, with potential partners seeming less than thrilled by his offer to “get inseminated on.” 

“There’s a tradition in Ohio to publicly shame the wine-os by making them get special license plates,” said Dana Haywood, who went on two Tinder dates with Norton a while back. “When Derek showed up to our first date with that license, I knew it was gonna be rough. But for several months now, he’s been trying to tell me differently. Well, good for him for trying, I guess.”

Even Norton’s family seems less than optimistic about his chances at reproduction. 

“Derek is a wonderful boy,” said his mother, Marilyn Norton. “He was on the football team in high school. And he survived crashing into the quarry. So he’s really our miracle baby. But in a realer, greater sense, he’s also a layabout and a stain on the family name. Let’s face it, kids are a blessing from the Lord above. And Derek, let’s face it, is not a very blessed man. In fact, I’d go so far as to say, God hates him.”

At press time, Derek Norton was attempting to pay the 19-year-old waitress at TGI Friday’s to blow into the breathalyzer tube that starts his car. More on this story as it develops.

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