The Next Oasis? My Pickleball Partner Just Beat the Shit Out of Me With His Racquet

Posted on by Sarah Cortina

Guys, I need to be honest. I’ve been in a creative slump, and nothing seems to be working. I’ve been studying the work of the greats, trying to emulate their careers. Trying to become one of them. I thought I was behaving like a true artist, but I just ended up being quote unquote “an alcoholic” and “a narcissist who makes shitty art.” Nothing’s been working. Until now. Until this moment of beautiful kismet, when my pickleball partner struck me with his racquet.

As he pummeled every inch of my body, I yelled back at him, “Come on, man, don’t look back in anger! Stop crying your heart out!” And then I realized that I missed what we had together all along. Not just an athletic partnership, but the potential for an artistic one. Him absolutely beating me with the pickleball racquet reminds me of a certain British band that starts with an O. One Direction. Then I remembered Oasis. I love Liam Gallagher! Like he was so good in “Shameless.”

I should have seen the similarities sooner. We never got along super well, but we kept rising to the top of the El Segundo, CA 35-44 y/o Amateur Pickleball tournament ranks. After he beat the shit out of me, we absolutely clobbered the team we faced next. Not as bad as he clobbered me, though. I lowkey need stitches. Hey, if he keeps the racquet, maybe it’ll fetch a pretty penny at auction one day.

I couldn’t let him have the final win, though. In return, I threw my ironically purchased tambourine at him, except he caught it and honestly, I liked the noise it made, so I hit record on GarageBand and just kept throwing it at him until he threatened to beat me again, but more importantly, quit the pickleball league.

At the end of the day, we’re kind of brothers in a way. Like eskimo brothers. And by that I mean we fucked the same girl and he found out. That girl being his wife. Which might have been why he beat the shit out of me. Am I a terrible friend and pickleball partner? Definitely maybe!

Pitchfork Writer Visiting Home Describes Mom’s Dinner as “A Derivative Slog Through White Suburban Mediocrity”

Posted on by Tim Graham

COUNCIL BLUFFS, Iowa — Music critic Sophie McKennitt brutally lambasted her mother’s cooking during a recent visit home, according to stunned cousins.

“As a child who knew no better, I found my mother’s cooking to be adequate,” said McKennitt while downing kimchi in an effort to cleanse her palate. “It was utilitarian and bland, but served its purpose. However, after I moved out and got to experience all that global food culture had to offer, I was able to see my mom’s cooking for the tedious swill it is. Last night she made tuna noodle casserole, which was utterly pedestrian and uninspired. This woman thinks paprika is too adventurous. Her cooking fails to provide even the barest minimum in terms of flavor while contributing nothing to the greater culinary conversation. Do better, mom.”

Mrs. McKennitt was blindsided by her daughter’s harsh critique, but took it in stride.

“I don’t know what Sophie is talking about,” she said while scooping American chop suey into stained Tupperware. “She used to love my cooking—but I guess she’s broadened her horizons since moving to the big city and getting a job at that fancy magazine. I admit that her father and I like to keep things simple. We’ve never even had sushi—that’s raw fish! I do have one question for Sophie, though: If my cooking is so offensive, why’d you ask for seconds? I’ll allow her to publicly proclaim that she’s above casserole, pork chops and meatloaf, but I know the truth. A clean plate doesn’t lie.”

Film critic Francis Arnold warns that people in this trade need to be careful not to allow their work to permeate their home life.

“In our profession, there’s a strong temptation to criticize anything and everything we experience,” said Arnold. “But I quickly learned that if I wanted to maintain relationships with friends and family, I better keep my mouth shut. My advice? If someone invites you to their concert or film screening or even cooks you dinner, your best bet is to react with vague praise, offer some platitudes and quickly get out of there. Later, you can shit all over them in a private text group with your colleagues.”

At press time, McKennitt had turned her critical eye upon her boyfriend’s new mustache, which she deemed a “pitiable, misguided stab at aspirational masculinity.”

Conservative Christian Outraged by Woke Parts of the Bible Being Highlighted in Red

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

LITTLE ROCK, Ark. — Local man Jerry Whipple, a self-described red-blooded, god-fearing follower of Christ, was outraged when he noticed all of the parts of the Bible he deemed to be “woke” were highlighted in red, close family members confirmed.

“These liberal New York book publishers are trying to ram their agenda down our throats. I can’t even open my very own Bible without being told to love my neighbor, and all this preachy horse crap about forgiveness. No thank you, my neighbor is a pile of dog mess who thinks Obama is an actual American and it makes me sick,” said Whipple while hand-carving a miniature crucifix. “Then there is all this slop about how I should care about the poor. Since when? I worked hard to get where I am. My dad owned multiple apartment buildings and it was my responsibility to calculate the market rate for rent every year. Do you know how hard that is when you have these sinning single mothers whining that they won’t be able to afford another rent increase? I prefer the parts of the Bible that talk about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and saluting the flag.”

Whipple’s pastor, Reverend Scott Disshum, says he won’t bother explaining to the members of his flock that the words in red are meant to represent what Jesus said.

“Look, if I explained to everyone who came into my church that Jesus preached love, acceptance, and wanted to limit human suffering, then I wouldn’t make any money. I tend to focus on the parts of the Bible that talk about a vengeful God who wants to destroy anyone who doesn’t follow his exact orders,” said Reverend Disshum. “Fear is what pays the bills at the end of the day. If I want to keep the lights on at the church, and my Rolls-Royce running on premium gas then I need to preach the Old Testament version of fire and brimstone.”

Sociologist Amy Lane believes most Evangelical Christians actively avoid talking about Jesus.

“Jesus has really taken a backseat in modern Christianity. The most devout followers of Jesus think he’s just a white guy who came from a ‘good’ part of Italy. But we are talking about a Middle Eastern man who preached ‘woke’ values so much that it got him killed,” said Lane. “Fox News would label Jesus a ‘radical lunatic’ if he were preaching his gospel today. I’m sure he’s rolling around in his grave right now seeing how his words were bastardized, but let’s be real, he probably never actually existed anyway and all the shit he said was made up to be a form of social control.”

At press time, Whipple proudly displayed a new version of his Trump Bible with all the teachings of Trump highlighted in a tacky gold color.

We Sat Down With Anti-Cop Crust Punk John Rambo

Posted on by Steve Packosky

Our thoughts on police officers are certainly no secret, and we always jump at the opportunity to discuss the subject with like-minded individuals. As such, while we were driving along in rural Washington state one day and came across legendary anti-cop crust punk John Rambo, we could not shy away from the chance to pick his brain. Unfortunately, and this is absolutely something we should have anticipated, this guy is really difficult to have a conversation with. Below is what little interview we were able to salvage, but be forewarned that it did not go well.

The Hard Times: Wow, it’s truly an honor to meet you, Mr. Rambo. We’re huge fans!

John Rambo: Hi.

HT: As a crust punk with your history, we presume you have the same feelings about overpolicing as we do, and —

JR: As a what?

HT: Uh, you know, you’re kind of a transient who has problems with authority, which we admire.

JR: Why are you pushing me?

HT: Oh, we’re absolutely not trying to. It’s just that your jacket has a patch on it, and you clearly haven’t showered in a while.

JR: I didn’t know I had to shower for this interview.

HT: We’re not suggesting that. We know what happened last time someone tried to force you to shower and shave, and —

JR: NOBODY FORCES ME TO DO ANYTHING!

It was at that point that Rambo pulled a gigantic serrated knife out of his pocket and stabbed our intern, Caleb, in the leg. He then ran outside our offices, stole a dirtbike off some random guy Grand Theft Auto-style, and rode it off into the woods. The thing is, we’re on a really strict timeline with this piece, and our editor was extremely insistent that we make it happen, so we had no choice but to follow him. Hopefully, we can track him down and get his thoughts on law enforcement, but it’s looking grim.

There are few of us left. Miranda got taken out with an improvised bear trap made of soda machine springs and a broken Descendants record. Dave thought covering himself in mud would help because he was thinking of the wrong movie — Rambo made short work of him. As for me, I’m currently typing from the bottom of one of those concealed pits full of bamboo spikes. They seem to have missed most of my vitals, but I see know way out and I’m getting hungry. In retrospect, I should have asked more questions before stepping on what seemed to be an ordinary pile of leaves in the middle of the office.

GWAR Roadie Scrambling to Find 236 Gallons of Alien Cum at 8:00 p.m. in Macon, GA

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

MACON, Ga. — Panic-stricken and barely coherent GWAR roadie Miles Giodarno was spotted dashing through the streets of Macon, desperately trying to secure a whopping 236 gallons of alien cum just hours before the band’s show, confirmed sources.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck,” exclaimed Giodarno through the mostly empty streets of the sleepy, southern town. “The band goes on in two hours, and they just now realized that they must have hit a bump somewhere in North Carolina, leaking ET jizz all over I-95. Now I’m stuck hitting up every big box store in the area, because apparently you can’t play live music without showering your audience in alien cum. And yes, I know it’s not really extraterrestrial semen. But that doesn’t help me to find 236 gallons of toaster strudel glaze and green food dye this late on a Sunday.”

Convenience store clerk Tamara Jenkins recalled her “vivid” encounter with the wild-eyed Giodarno that evening.

“Dude came in here like a bat out of hell. He was practically shaking. I thought he was either on something or running from the cops. Then he screams at me, ‘I need all the cum you got. No time for questions,’” said Jenkins. “Before I could pull out the mini bat I stashed behind the counter he explained how he works for GWAR. He bought up all the face lotion we had, saying maybe if he watered it down with some of the green Gatorade it would have just the right ‘intergalactic viscosity.’”

GWAR’s lead singer and metal icon, Blothar the Berserker, took a moment to clarify the whole situation.

“Look, this was just a prank,” Blothar explained. “Miles was the new guy on the team, and well, you don’t just get thrown into this job without learning the hard way. So we sent him off to fetch the alien cum, knowing full well he’d have no fucking idea where to get it. It’s tradition. We hazed him. Hell, we don’t even use alien cum in our show. Alien blood, sure. Animal cum, without a doubt. But alien cum? Nah, we’re better than that.”

At press time, Giodarno’s hazing continued after being forced to single-handedly mop the entire stage wearing only a leather g-string.

Woodland Creature Mayoral Race Once Again Swept by Dapper Bullfrog in Monocle and Top Hat

Posted on by Joe Rumrill

WILLOW WIND HOLLOW — The animal population of a wooded glen was less than surprised when their mayoral election results yielded a landslide win for a jovial bullfrog in formal wear, sources confirmed while bristling at the triggering term “landslide.”

“Ah, twas a jolly good showing all around! My thanks to the voters of this fine glen — from the birds in the trees, to the bugs and the bees! Pip pip!” chimed Mayor Bullfrog, with a distinguished puff of his signature dewlap. “I daresay my promise of a ‘stolen vegetables from Farmer MacCready’s garden for all’ initiative was risky, but I didn’t kiss all those tadpoles at my rallies to be called a liar. ‘Slimy,’ sure, but that’s a descriptor I wear with pride, what what! Now to beef up my security team in case there are any more assassination attempts by out-of-town hawks!”

Mayor Bullfrog’s long-suffering opponent, Mr. Weasel, was less than sporting about his now annual defeat.

“Drat it all. Drat it to heck and back again, I say. Every year I hope we’ve progressed as a society enough to overcome our clear and rampant anti-predator bias, and every year I’m squashed back to reality, crushed and labelled a ‘loser.’ I’ll bet if I were born a chipmunk or even a sentient oak tree one might go to for cryptic advice, I’d be getting fitted for a ‘MAYOR’ sash right now!” opined Weasel, from his modest one-bedroom burrow. “And, of course, the scandal a few years back didn’t help. How was I to know those rotten eggs were someone’s kids and not part of the continental breakfast I assumed the hotel offered?”

Local man Reggie Potter, great-grandson of children’s author Beatrix Potter, had much to say on the election outcome.

“Man, I wish my great-grandmother was alive to see this. Or that anyone believed that this was happening in my backyard without calling for a psychiatric evaluation,” said Potter, frantically. “This election happens every year in my very backyard, and let me tell you, the minute people find out you’re the relative of Beatrix Potter and you’re trying to tell them there are well-dressed critters campaigning hutch-to-hutch, your credibility goes right down the drain. At least she was able to make some money off these little suckers. God, I wish I could draw.”

At press time, a recount was ordered after accusations of Mayor Bullfrog paying off the duck community for votes in exchange for a sack of wet bread.

Is That a Gun in Your Pocket or Do You Have Two Boners

Posted on by Tim Sheard

Having an erection in public is embarrassing, but it happens to the best of us. I was fully prepared to look away and not say anything until I saw that your pants had two bulges. There’s the obvious one in the middle, nice size, good girth, 10/10 normal penis from the outline. I would just say, ‘Is there ‘something’ in your pocket’ if I were trying to make a joke about the situation, but after doing a double take, I don’t know whether to be concerned about my safety or your health. The bulge right of center is such a distinctive shape, it’s either a Rossi RM66 .357 Magnum with a six-inch barrel or a secondary stiffy.

I’ve read Freud, I know about phallic object theory and how guns and dicks are the same shape, and both represent an affirmation of masculinity. I’d like to consider myself open-minded to unconventional expressions of gender and sexuality. It’s really none of my business, and what’s the difference between the two when it comes down to it? They can both be loaded, concealed, and pump-action, but one could fucking kill me, which is probably why I’m still stuck on this. Have you had a vasectomy? I’m really praying that you’re shooting blanks.

Sorry I keep staring. I couldn’t think of a discreet way to confront you, but I just have to know. Rambo or Randy? Even if I gestured to your crotch and asked if it was registered, that would do nothing to clear the air; both answers would only cause more questions. I could ask to see it, but that would be awkward. Also, I’m not really into guys in that way, and I am for sure not into guns that way.

Hey, what’s with that grin, anyway? It’s like you’re enjoying this confrontation a little too much. I get the sense that you’re only horny in a normal, one-dicked way because you’re about to kill me, which I’ve no doubt you’d commit to, given you clearly don’t have performance anxiety.

Tony Hawk Confirms He First Got into Skateboarding After Playing Countless Hours of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3

Posted on by Stephen Bell

LOS ANGELES — Famed skateboarder Tony Hawk revealed that he really only got into skateboarding after playing countless hours of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3, confirmed sources still trying to wrap their heads around that concept.

“Yeah, I was an accountant who was super bored with my life when I first started playing THPS3 on my N64 and I just couldn’t put it down,” explained Hawk while spinning a skateboard on his index finger like a basketball. “Seeing what I was able to do in the game really inspired me to pick up a board for the first time in my life and just start skating. I figured if I could manual in the game for 20 minutes straight while doing multiple handstands, then hitting a 900 in real life should be no problem. I was right.”

Multiple skaters were confused after hearing about this revelation.

“I think it’s cool that Tony got into skateboarding thanks to THPS3 because that’s how I got into boarding too. Hey, wait a minute,” said skater Kelvin Grady. “No seriously, am I high right now because how does that make any sense? I don’t think I’m high because I haven’t smoked anything in over 20 minutes and I should have come down a little by now. How the hell did they come out with multiple Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater games before Tony Hawk even got into skateboarding? Is Tony Hawk just a character that was created for the games or did Neversoft create the human as some sort of marketing campaign for the game? No, that can’t be because the actual Tony Hawk is featured on the original box art for the games. This must be my last concussion acting up because what the hell?”

Long-haired theoretical physicist Michio Kaku chimed in to explain what’s going on as he will show up anywhere to explain stuff when asked.

“Have you ever wondered why so many people don’t recognize Tony Hawk when they see him in public?” asked Kaku. “It’s because Tony Hawk both simultaneously exists and doesn’t exist. He lies in a perfect superposition as defined by the Heisenberg uncertainty principle in which the person known as Tony Hawk has always been but has also never been. This all started of course during an event known as the ‘Mountain Dew Baja Blast’ which was an event similar to the big bang in which both ska and skateboarding entered the mortal realm for the first time. Quite fascinating indeed.”

At press time, it was also confirmed that the members of Goldfinger first got into ska punk after listening to themselves performing “Superman” during their playthrough of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater.

Dancing Coke Can and Billy Bass Among Kennedy Center Honorees

Posted on by Dan Rice

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump, the self-appointed Kennedy Center chairman, announced that a dancing Coca-Cola can and a novelty singing bass decoration will be among the artists recognized for their contributions to American culture this year during a particularly unhinged press conference earlier today.

“It’s time we as a nation stop glorifying woke garbage and start honoring the real artists who helped make America the greatest culture in history! That’s why I’m using the power entrusted to me by myself to add two performers to what was already the greatest lineup of Kennedy Center honorees!” said Trump, gesturing to the animatronic toys. “As you can see, both gentlemen are with me today, and they are so grateful for what I’ve done for them that they’ve actually collaborated on a new piece in my honor!” The president proceeded to press the on button for the Coke can and the singing bass at the same time and began to weep to a mashup of “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony)” and “Take Me to the River.” “This is the national anthem now,” added Trump through tears of admiration.

Propaganda Minister Pam Bondi was quick to deflect accusations that the President’s choices were crass, tasteless, and out of touch.

“The Kennedy Center can only honor so many artists per year, and the President did not choose his selections lightly,” assured Bondi. “The can was a shoe-in from the start, but for many weeks it was a dead-heat between the bass, Kevin Sorbo, and the ‘time to make the donuts’ guy. Then Sorbo made the mistake of questioning how the President’s uncle could have taught the Unabomber, and was immediately disqualified. In the end, the President went with the performer who looked the least Hispanic, and the entire cabinet is behind him in that decision.”

The President’s choices for honorees have been met with heavy criticism from the arts world, notably from former Kennedy Center Chairman Deborah Rutter.

“As if Rocky and KISS weren’t embarrassing enough, now we’re honoring the artistic contributions of gauche inanimate objects, ” said Rutter. “It’s very in vogue to compare Trump to Adolf Hitler, but these selections debunk that completely. Hitler, for all his sins and flaws, understood art and culture.”

According to sources, the President’s choices have even drawn criticism from fellow honoree Gene Simmons, who claims the dancing coke can “totally cockblocked” him at Whisky a Go Go in 1986.

Free Hugs Guy Now Has Tipping Option

Posted on by Mike Moran

NEW YORK — Longtime hugging volunteer Andy Spencer recently joined in on the trend of asking for gratuities along with his charity services, local sources report.

“In these troubled times, who couldn’t use a free hug for a small donation?” asked Spencer. “I’m just happy to give people a few seconds of affection, if it means it will brighten someone’s day a little. Oh, and no pressure, but if you do feel so inclined, I offer several tipping options on my iPad here. Or you can customize, but again it’s totally optional. I have a square up top there, or you can just tap but that’s always a little tricky. Cash is always welcome too. Or Venmo. Whatever you got on you, really. Just give it to me already.”

Patrons who have long appreciated the altruistic, non-commercial nature of the independent hugging circuit are questioning the ethics of adding tipping options to the service blatantly advertised as “free.”

“I’m not going to give up on free hugs guys, but I will admit I’m much more discerning in my options,” said frequent patron Alison Bridgers. “I find myself taking more time to consider things like technique, hygiene, and chest to breast room allowance ratio. I’m sorry, but if I’m going to be pressured into tipping, I’m not settling on a smelly guy with an uneven embrace distribution, who is going to try and rub boobs with me. I mean, believe it or not, some of these free hug guys turn out to be total creeps. Who would have thought?”

Experts are weighing in on how this issue is merely a part of a growing national trend that has many Americans questioning the idea of tipping in general.

“The economy being as it is, it’s not surprising that so many services are adding tipping options,” said Economist James Cowlings. “But Americans by and large are beginning to experience ‘tipping fatigue.’ In Europe, tipping is considered taboo, and people working as ‘hugsmen,’ as they are known, are actually compensated through government programs. But try getting Americans to agree to that. We don’t want our tax dollars going to museums, let alone street comforters.”

At press time, HUG international, a new corporate embracement solutions firm, has announced it will be hiring over 1,000 former free hugs guys, and plan on franchising nationally.