5 Flagrant Violations of Arizona Boating Law We Found in the Pamela Anderson/Tommy Lee Sex Tape

Posted on by Tim Sheard

If you’re a millennial or older, you probably remember “Stolen Honeymoon,” the leaked, mid-nineties sex footage of then-newlyweds Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee filmed largely on a houseboat on the waters of Lake Mead, Arizona. You might even have managed to procure a copy for yourself, or at least were able to sneak a viewing of it from a friend’s father’s collection. However, we at the Hard Times never got that chance, and only recently thought to access it on the Internet.

While we pride ourselves in reporting punk news, we want to make one thing absolutely clear: there is absolutely nothing “punk” about refusing to adhere to boating laws written to ensure the safety of all participating in maritime activities, be they professional or recreational. With that having been established, what we saw in “Stolen Honeymoon” was such a shocking and horrifying display of thoughtless abandon that we would consider ourselves criminally negligent if we didn’t call them out. As such, here are 5 of the most flagrant violations of Arizona boating law we were unfortunate enough to witness in this video.

  1. Insufficient Personal Floatation Devices (PFD)

This is a big one. According to Arizona law, all vessels are required to have an easily accessible, Coast Guard-approved PFD for each person on board, yet nary is seen within reach throughout the entirety of the video. Both Anderson and Lee show a wanton disregard for this statute, and Anderson even goes so far as to enter the waters without a swimsuit, let alone a PFD at the ready. As the presumed owner of the boat, it was Lee’s job to ensure both he and his exhibitionist new wife had one before venturing out on the lake for their nautical journey of sucking and fucking. In failing to do so, he put both of them in mortal danger of inclement weather-induced choppy waters or an accident resulting from poor stewardship (more on that to come.) We can only count our blessings that neither occurred.

  1. Unlawful Use of Foghorn

Each boat should come equipped with a foghorn whose designated purpose is to alert other vessels of its presence, particularly when the water’s conditions have significantly hampered visibility (e.g. fog.) It can also be used to warn of potential hazards in the paths of others. It is not a toy to be operated needlessly and gratuitously with your oversized penis, as Lee so heedlessly demonstrates in the video. Doing so can cause unnecessary stress on other boaters who may be in the area, which may further result in hazardous situations for which, as we’ve established in Violation #1, neither party was equipped.

  1. Reckless Operation

While at the helm of the boat, it is of utmost importance to maintain consistent awareness of the vessel’s speed, propeller area, and position relative to any potential hazard markers. This requires the operator to be seated upright with both hands firmly upon the wheel. Completely naked while intermittently steering with his feet, and sometimes even leaving the helm altogether without anchoring, Lee exhibits a disdain for these regulations which would almost be comical if it weren’t so dangerous. Shame on you, Tommy.

  1. Failure to Give Way to Restricted Vessel

As Anderson is swimming nude in the water next to the (presumably) unanchored boat, we hear another vessel approaching. From the sound of the motor, this is clearly a Crestliner 1860 Retriever CC Tunnel, which of course is a fishing boat. As we all know, fishing boats are considered restricted within designated areas, so it would have been incumbent upon Lee to ensure sufficient passage for the Crestliner. Predictably, he does not do this, instead choosing to implore his spouse to reveal her submerged breasts to him. This not only put the two of them in danger, but the poor inhabitants of the oncoming Crestliner as well. Lee would be well served in keeping his priorities in check next time, lest tragedy result.

  1. Sitting on Gunwale While Boat is Unmoored

Towards the end of the video, we see Anderson teasing Lee by repeatedly revealing her pubis while seated perilously on the boat’s gunwale. Such behavior is committed at a profound and unwarranted risk to her safety, especially given the lack of PFD as outlined in Violation #1. While it was surely Lee’s responsibility to ensure his boatmate had a thorough knowledge of the boat’s designated seating at the onset of their excursion, Anderson is not completely without fault for not letting common sense dictate her physical location before she began to digitally penetrate herself. Honestly, this complete breakdown of passenger welfare can be placed squarely on both of their shoulders.

There you have it. While this list is by no means exhaustive, it should provide the reader with more than enough information to conclude that these two have a lot to learn when it comes to sensible and conscientious boating. The statute of limitations on these transgressions may have long since passed, but we firmly believe they will be held wholly accountable in the court of public opinion for generations to come.

Panicked Ian MacKaye Frantically Calling Documentarians After Remembering Anecdote About ‘80s Hardcore He Hasn’t Told Anyone Yet

Posted on by James Knapp

WASHINGTON — Ian MacKaye was recently spotted scrambling down a block, knocking over multiple children and old people who were in his path, in a harried effort to report to any documentarian available that he just remembered something else from the ‘80s, the source himself confirmed, repeatedly.

“I had just dropped into the old ice cream shop where I used to work to grab a scoop when all of a sudden I remembered this amazing anecdote that I hadn’t already told, like, six different well-known documentaries,” gasped MacKaye, still out of breath and spattered with old man blood. “Get this: I once shared a tuna melt with Joey Splatter of The Splatter Bunch — and the bread was a little dry! That’s something people will definitely want to hear about. I mean, we weren’t trying to start a movement with this bread. Now which camera am I supposed to be looking into?”

Sixty-seven-year-old ‘80s hardcore fan Russell “Really Really Rusty” Rusendorf was ecstatic about the recent revelation from MacKaye.

“Oh my golly, a new tale! Why this could change the way we view the entire DC hardcore scene!” wheezed Rusendorf into his oxygen canister while still smoking a Parliament Light. “I thought I’d heard it all, probably five or nine times already. But to think that there’s something that Mr. MacKaye hasn’t said into a microphone yet — if I don’t hear that before I die, then I’ll just die. So be quick about the editing on that new documentary.”

Documentarian Lindsey Groves appeared less optimistic that this new anecdote would “change the perception of ‘80s hardcore from this day for all days to come.”

“Look, I hate to be the one to have to bring this up, but, has anyone considered that [MacKaye] may need to be entered into assisted living? Like, does he have grandchildren or any nieces or nephews under 50 that I should call?” remarked Groves. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I don’t think this guy has anything insightful left in the tank. After he told me about the sandwich we hung on the phone in silence for a minute before he just started listing off the various new Lego kits he wished he had when he was growing up. Yes, I know they used to just be blocks! What does that have to do with hardcore?”

At press time, MacKaye was seen rushing back to the treat shop where employees reported he had forgotten to actually take his ice cream.

Breakup Deemed Insufficiently Traumatic to Inspire Soul-Searching Album

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

PORTLAND, Ore. — The recent breakup between aspiring singer-songwriter Davy Briggs and girlfriend of two months Evelyn Hanna was deemed insufficiently traumatic to inspire a soul-searching breakthrough album that will touch millions of sensitive souls, sources say.

“I was kind of devastated when Evelyn broke up with me,” Briggs explained. “So I naturally started laying down some tracks before the anguish subsided. Then I realized she was actually pretty cool and upfront about why she didn’t see a future with me and, honestly, neither one of us had all that much invested. Plus, we’re going to see each other around town and it’ll just be awkward to pretend that two months of hanging out is a pivotal moment in my artistic development. I mean, I didn’t even have a toothbrush at her place. I don’t think that’s a decent bar for 12 tracks of contemplative acoustic melancholy.”

Juliana Barroso, a longtime friend, sometime musical collaborator, and frequent reluctant listener of demos of Briggs’, agreed with his assessment of the collapsed relationship’s inability to summon the very spirit of lacerating heartbreak in musical form.

“From my understanding, it was a mutual breakup and he was only sad for a good 36 hours,” said Barroso. “However, he was looking up how much it cost to rent out an isolated cabin where the bittersweet memories of love could transform into an album that spoke for his dashed hopes and dreams, but when he saw the price-tag on those things, he was just like ‘fuck that.’ I thought the two of them were a cute couple, but let’s be honest: they met on Tinder, went to see a movie three or four times, and, apparently, did hand stuff regularly. Not exactly a relationship that needs to be immortalized forever.”

Dr. Martha Carter, a behavioral therapist, says that realizing that not every breakup has the necessary amount of creative trauma potential to create a masterpiece is actually a very good sign for Briggs’ mental health.

“It’s quite normal for the recently dumped to think that their romantic failure could be the source for a generational collection of songs,” said Carter. “But frankly, Briggs and Hanna’s relationship merits may be a B-side or an EP with more than one remixed version of a song, at best. The fact that he can acknowledge is actually a huge step forward for him, though given that he’s a wannabe indie musician, he’s got a fuckton of work to do on himself regardless.”

As of press time, Hanna was realizing that she didn’t feel like listening to “Jagged Little Pill” anymore and couldn’t relate to any part of it.

Opinion: The Thing I Love the Most About My Cybertruck Is How It Helped to Usher in the Most Embarrassing Authoritarian State the World Has Ever Seen

Posted on by Trevor Graham

Oh man, have you seen my Cybertruck? It’s so fucking sick, dude. Just look at it. It’s like something straight out of a 1980s dystopian future movie that would show some titties and full-frontal hairy bush.

It’s fully electric, has those headlights that look like a fucking Cylon from “Battlestar Galactica,” it’s just fucking amazing and I love it. But I think the thing I love the most about it is how it helped to bring about the most jaw-droppingly embarrassing government in the history of the human race.

Every time I get behind the wheel of this absolutely badass piece of machinery I just marvel at the technology and innovation that went into making this sick ass truck. First of all, it’s made out of stainless steel just like the DeLorean from “Back to the Future” and can tow up to 11,000 pounds which will come in handy if Elon Musk ever makes a Cyber boat that I can haul or if I ever need to tow another Cybertruck that has broken down or gotten stuck off-road in a small amount of dirt.

All that said though, it just makes me feel good knowing that a portion of the nearly $100,000 I spent on my Cybertruck has helped to fund a corrupt and incomprehensibly stupid regime built on a platform of mediocrity and world-ending greed.

I mean sure, the windshield cracked when an acorn fell on it and I can’t get a replacement for it for six months and there’s a weird rattling sound that I can’t seem to find. And also sometimes when I plug it in to charge it I get a shock and taste burnt almonds for the rest of the day and it kind of bums me out. But then I think about how Elon Musk is starting something called the Department of Government Efficiency, which he calls DOGE, and I start laughing my ass off. Sometimes I laugh so hard and I pass out and smack my head on the concrete. My doctor is legitimately concerned if it happens again I might die, so Elon please stop making me crack up so often.

Do you get it? It’s like those dog memes from fifteen years ago. It’s so genius! And I gotta say I just feel good about myself and how… sorry I just thought about “DOGE” again and started laughing. So good!

Local Band With Just Drummer and Guitarist Must Have Time Traveled From 2011

Posted on by Ryan Dondero

SAN DIEGO — Local indie noise band Static Teeth, which consists of just a drummer and a guitarist, left confused showgoers wondering if the duo had time-traveled from 2011.

“I’m shocked, honestly. I didn’t see this coming at all,” said Abigail Moreno, a regular at the DIY venue Pit Stain. “Bands with just a drummer and a guitarist? Now? No way. I haven’t seen one since Bradley Cooper was named People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. I’m starting to think the only way Static Teeth exists is if they time-traveled from like, the early 2010s. They’re selling burned CDs at their merch table and telling people to follow them on MySpace and Tumblr. But that’s ridiculous, right? Time travel isn’t real…it couldn’t be.”

Bryce Shepard, drummer and vocalist for Static Teeth, says the theories surrounding the band are ludicrous and they are just like any other band.

“We aren’t musicians sent to the future to revive a dead scene, we are just a couple of guys trying to push sonic boundaries,” said Shepard, nervously sweeping his bangs from his eyes. “Yep. 2023 is when we were formed. That’s the year. Last year. 2023. We even have TikTok! Which everyone knows is an app for smartphones—not just a chart-topping Kesha song from 2009. Wow…2009. That sure was a long time ago, huh? TikTok has a lot of funny videos. But have you seen the music video for a song called ‘Friday’ by Rebecca Black? It’s hilarious!”

Dr. Rex Chronos, a self-proclaimed expert on time travelers and founder of the Council of Time Exploration, says it’s not out of the realm of possibility that a drummer/guitarist band might seek to time travel to the present day.

“Everyone remembers 2011 as the year of the royal wedding and ‘tiger blood,’ but it was also a year where it seemed like every other band was just a drummer and guitarist,” said Chronos. “If you were in a duo like that back then, you had a tough time gaining an audience. However, if you were the son of General Mark Shepard, who led the top secret Project Meridian at the DOD’s Cheyenne Mountain Complex, you could easily find yourself exploring new audiences across different times. I’m just sayin’.”

At press time, a frustrated Shepard was seen backstage trying to update his iPhone 4S.

Getting Bloodwork Done Significantly Less Metal Than Carcass Fan Was Hoping

Posted on by Reuben Blanchard

HARTFORD, Conn. — Local metalhead and rabid Carcass fan Nick Patterson was shocked to learn that despite how it sounds, bloodwork is actually pretty boring, sources confirmed.

“I asked the nurse when I’d be covered in the sickly warm embrace of my own arterial spray” explained Patterson. “But they said it’s rare to nick an artery when drawing blood. I mean, Carcass makes medical stuff sound so gnarly, so I assumed that the ruthless extrication of the essence of my being for diabolical and torturous means would bring me agonizing pain. I pictured them cutting open my chest with a rusty knife, ripping out my heart with their bare hands, and then juicing my vital organ like a lemon to get the blood. Instead, they asked a distracting question about my dog and suddenly said ‘all done’ and slapped on a cute bandage before shuffling me out of the room. I didn’t even feel the needle. Not to mention I was given absolutely no time to windmill.”

The medical staff mentioned while Patterson seemed a bit confused, his labs were completely standard.

“His triglycerides looked great, but his LDL and Non-HDL were both higher than we’d like,” said Patterson’s medical provider, Lara Hernandez. “Nothing to worry about, he should just cut down on the fast food and carbs a bit. But for someone his age, overall, things looked good. However, he did mention he was very disappointed in the lack of scalpels and bone saws lying around. I politely reminded him that medicine has come a long way since the Middle Ages, and then he asked if he could see inside his own veins. It was weird.”

Patterson is one of many in a long line of metalheads who seem to take the lyrical content of their favorite bands a bit too seriously.

“It’s honestly becoming a bit of a problem,” opined Jeff Walker, primary lyricist for Carcass “People are taking everything we say literally. It’s actually pushed us to head in a new direction going forward. Our new album is called ‘How to Properly Apply a Tourniquet’ and is filled with genuine medical advice. And at the end, it helps you sign up for health insurance. Not that the Affordable Care Act is long for this world, though.”

At press time, a disillusioned Patterson was seen googling “Does Corpsegrinder even cum blood?”

Trad Husband? I Cheated On My Wife, Got Violent With My Kids, and Failed Upwards at My Job

Posted on by Tim Sheard

With all these women making serious bank on social media sharing their lives as “Trad Wives” it got me thinking: I’m a traditional husband; why not me?

First off, I believe in the traditional family. And like everyone else who says that I pick and choose which traditions I’m talking about, based entirely on what suits my needs in the moment.

As a Trad husband, I know that a woman’s place is at home. And a man’s place is in several homes with several women, none of whom know about each other. And sure my wife probably knows about the other ones, but that’s just motivation to keep her looking fit and trim. Plus where else will she find someone who won’t ever help with dinner, but always complains about it?

As a dad who is Trad, I let the kids know who’s boss. I practice corporal punishment with my sons, letting them know that they get the belt if they ever talk back, show emotion, or do better than me in sports. As for my daughters, they are chaste angel princesses whose virginity I will protect with violence, regardless of whether or not they want me to. I will NOT let anyone sexualize my daughters, and refuse to acknowledge that my obsession with their virginity is, in and of itself, sexualizing them. You’re creepy, not me.

I’m entirely unqualified for my job, but I’m tall. That, along with the fact that I’m classically handsome and white, makes stupid people feel safe. Therefore my inadequacies are overlooked, so as to hold up the appearance of the status quo. What’s more traditional than that?

On top of that, my inability to follow through on projects at work has been misinterpreted as confidence, which in turn has actually given me more confidence. But because I did nothing to earn this confidence, underneath this frail shell, my whole personality is built on a fragile foundation of insecurity and defensiveness, that will lash out, violently, to protect my ego. You know, guy shit.

I know I’m no saint. Look, nobody’s perfect. Or as the t-shirt one of my kids bought me says, “pobody’s nerfect!” At least I think it was one of my kids. It might’ve been one of the young women from my congregation I’m sleeping with. Did I mention I’m a youth pastor? Because obviously I’m a youth pastor. TikTok here I come!

“Snowperson” and Other Updated Holiday Terminologies That Are Guaranteed To Incite Pointless Rage in Your Shitty Uncle

Posted on by Violet Meeker

It’s the holidays, which means it’s time to go home an delicately navigate social interaction with the right-wing bigots you have nothing in common with you call “family.” Your clan has a clear “No politics on holidays” rule (which your uncle loves to repeat while wearing his MAGA hat) but they can’t control your language! Here are 10 updated holiday terms that will enrage your uncle into an early grave faster than “He is a convicted felon who is mentally unfit to hold the office of the presidency” ever could.

1) Snowman = Snowperson
The perfect term to slip into conversation over some Irish coffee with the uncle. Wait for him to take a sip, then ask if he’s made a snowperson with the kids this year. I dare you. He’ll turn a shade of red you didn’t know was possible for the human skin organ to create.

2) Mrs. Clause = Gertrude Clause
She has a name, asshole.

3) Italian Rainbow Cookies = Luigi’s Cookies
Because in this house? Luigi is a hero. And, as respectfully as possible, a sex symbol. By “house” I mean whatever building I’m physically in when I see Italian Rainbow Cookies.

4) Gingerbread Men = Gingerbread Them
“Does everything have to adhere to such rigid heterosexual gender norms??? Are you really that insecure?”

5) Snowflake = Cold Rain
“That just is exactly what it is. Believe science. And while you’re at it? Believe women.”

6) Gay = Gay
This is the only non-updated holiday terminology on the list. It means cheerful, jolly, full of mirth. It also happens to be the word your uncle is probably most afraid of being called because his masculinity is as fragile as a hand-blown glass ornament. Might I suggest sending him a nice holiday text? Something like…”gr8 seeing u and cuz so gay while watching football together. I hope 2 b as gay as u 1 day! Happy HOLIDAYS”

7) Snow Angel = Snow Plasma
Again, science is important. Aliens are in New Jersey, and soon some of us will be beamed up. Anyways – The closest thing to what people describe as “angels” are amorphous masses that are more accurately described as plasma. Sorry to burst your bubble, unc.

8) Shortbread = Averageheightbread
Do we have to point out everything’s physical stature? Even when it comes to something I dip into my tea? This year I’ll be leaving a plate of averageheightbread by the fire for Santa.

9) Rudolph = “The Twink”
I said what I said. I believe this to be true, and if you took one second to think about it you would agree. Maybe this is an opportunity to teach your shitty uncle some new terminology that he’ll think over in his pea brain for the rest of the evening. Cheers!

10) Happy New Year = Billionaires Should Not Exist, Revolt
We will never truly have a happy new year until the financial ruling class is overthrown and made to pay for their crimes against the species. This year, makes your ressolution a revolution.

Opinion: Jokes on You, I Wanted to Spend Christmas in This Disneyland Holding Cell

Posted on by Matt Husser

Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the inside of this subterranean Disneyland prison complex is so delightful. That’s right, I might be the one behind bars but it’s actually you who has been caught in my cunning little “Home Alone” trap, cause jokes on you: I actually wanted to spend Christmas in this Disneyland holding cell.

You think it was an accident that I ended up here? A mere coincidence that I got so drunk off twelve ‘Genie and Juice’ cocktails that I decided to hit Goofy with the Stone Cold Stunner in front of all those families during the Christmas Fantasy Parade? Au contraire my friend, this is all going according to my master plan.

You see, money can buy you all sorts of things at Disneyland. A Magic Key Pass to skip the lines. Membership at the exclusive Club 33 where you can rub elbows with the elite class of Disney Adults. Hell, you go down the wrong alley at Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge and flash credits to the right Hutt you can get a lapdance from Jar Jar Binks himself and ooh, mooey mooey, heesa be bussin’ it down. But the most exclusive attraction of all is Scar’s Slammer, and all it costs to get in is your dignity—and I already lost that when I tore my pants after the security guards dressed like Buzz and Woody tackled me.

While all these pathetic families are above ground pretending to be happy while gawkin’ at the Christmas lights, these suckers are missing out on the best part of the whole park. Shit, so what if my kids don’t talk to me anymore, I got three hots and a cot in the happiest holding cell on Earth! I’m making prison eggnog with some non-dairy creamer I swiped from TinkerBucks and ‘Mickey’s Moonshine’ I hid in the wall when I was in here last Christmas. Best of all, I get to spend the holidays with my chosen family: a bunch of minimum wage security guards who aren’t spending Christmas with their families either—and unlike my ungrateful kids, their little handbook says they gotta call me ‘Sir’.

So I’m gonna kick up my feet and enjoy my Christmas in here, and you better not let me out early either, cause you know what I’m gonna do the minute you open that cell? I’m gonna find Goofy and ring in the New Year with another Stone Cold Stunner, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.