Joshualevinson, Author at HARDTIMES

Uncle Struggling to Explain How 100 gecs Descended from the Blues

Posted on March 15, 2023 by John Danek

TULSA, Okla. — Local elitist and retired CPA Ronnie Clayton really struggled to draw a musical thread relating the hyperpop sensations 100 gecs to the blues of yore, snickering family members reported.

“I’ve stomached tenuous arguments about how Imagine Dragons, Kendrick Lamar, and Adele all can be traced back to the blues, but none of Uncle Ron’s usual arguments work with 100 gecs,” stated a triumphant Polly Clayton, Ronnie’s niece and regular IT support guru. “He kept closing his eyes and trying to listen closely for a discernible chord progression in ‘800 db,’ but nothing ever came. That’s when his neck vein started bulging and he excused himself with a quiet rage I never heard before. I’m pretty sure he walked outside and smoked his first cigarette in 19 years.”

Mr. Clayton has been largely bedridden ever since hearing the chaotic track from 100 gecs’ debut album.

“It’s just…I don’t…Clapton is God, remember? John Mayall, where are you?” muttered Clayton, who boasts the world’s largest private Gibson Custom Shop Les Paul collection. “The gecs, how many? No 1-4-5 progression. No blues scale… pentatonic? Frightening. How do kids listen? It isn’t music. Only blues music. Doomed. Art. Bonamassa, save us. Dying now.”

100 gecs’ Laura Les admitted to some of the duo’s surprising influences.

“When Dylan and I started making music together, we were trying to recreate the Delta Blues of the 1920’s Mississippi. Turns out, we just aren’t really good at emulating that old sound no matter how hard we try,” explained Les, who recorded some of the first demos for “Money Machine” on an old resonator guitar. “Charley Patton and Blind Lemon Jefferson were my favorite bluesmen when I started out, and I’d like to think that some of our songs like ‘xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_üXXx’ and ‘Doritos & Fritos’ contain their musical DNA.”

An update from the family confirms that any progress in Uncle Ron’s condition has been set back by Sam Smith and Kim Petras’ Grammy performance of “Unholy.”

Sadistic One-Hit Wonder Band Clearly Getting Off on Waiting Until Encore to Play Popular Song

Posted on March 15, 2023 by Jessica Lillian

GREENSBORO, N.C. – Indie folk-rock band Wildertown Archer is taking extreme pleasure in denying their audience the satisfaction of hearing “Rhubarb Road,” their one semi-popular hit, pained concert attendees report.

“Everyone just wants to hear that one song, and they won’t let us have it no matter what,” said Matthew Jalisco-Blair, grimacing as he finished his beer and desperately tried to peer at the setlist taped to the stage in front of him. “We’ve been standing here basically getting tortured for at least 75 minutes now. And they’re just grinning weirdly and playing everything else that none of us care about or even have heard before. What a bunch of psychos.”

Wildertown Archer lead singer Nate Coomey confirmed that he and his bandmates derive significant pleasure from forcing their concert attendees to endure extended stretches of unfamiliar songs and denying them the much longed-for release of their only radio single.

“I just love the looks on their sad little faces when we really get going,” Coomey explained. “Sometimes I’ll tease them over and over. I’ll start with a few songs that have the same opening chords as ‘Rhubarb Road.’ They’ll think I’m finally easing up and then I just hold them down again. On particularly mean-spirited nights, I’ll really sock it to them with our 17-minute experimental ballad ‘Following Her Until the End of Time.’ They’re screaming in utterly helpless pain by the fourth verse.”

According to noted entertainment psychologist Dr. Laurel H. Perugini, this behavior is a classic response to one-hit-wonders’ frustrations with the unpredictability of industry success.

“They are desperate for any power,” Perugini said. “Controlling the setlist at the expense of whatever remaining fans they might have is the only thing that satisfies them. Sadly, we have found that the risk increases at least tenfold for bands whose singular minor hit appeared in a car commercial and is now referred to as ‘that one from the Hyundai ad.’”

At press time, Wildertown Archer had closed out its encore at the Cedar Stack Lounge by playing an unrecognizable falsetto remix of “Rhubarb Road” to the seven attendees left.

I Made Peace With Capitulating to Patriarchal Beauty Standards by Shoplifting All My Skincare

Posted on March 15, 2023 by Ed Saincome

Ever since I was a perfectly symmetrical, rosy-cheeked teenager without acne, I have shunned makeup and beauty products. Makeup is an oppressive tool of the patriarchy. The purpose of any “beauty” product is to maintain the lie that our value comes primarily from how we look. I vowed to never support the beauty industry and I knew that when my wrinkles came in, I would choose to age gracefully.

But as I’ve grown older and my looks have changed, I have found it more and more difficult to get ahead in life due to the perceptions of others falsely informed by my looks. As I found fewer doors opening for me at work and in my personal life, I felt the unfortunate need arise to compromise my values in service of my day-to-day happiness. I needed to start buying into the beauty industry. “Buying,” of course, being the operative word since I’ve been stealing all my beauty products.

The silver lining to living in a society with grossly contorted ideas of how women should look is that a thirty-something wearing her natural face can go completely unnoticed at the office, a party, or even the new arrivals aisle at Sephora. Just as my dignity and personhood were stripped from me by society, so too can I strip Walgreens of its toners, mousse foundations, and hyaluronic acid serums.

The makeup and beauty debate has long been a staple of feminist in-fighting. Where falls the line between Choice Feminism and straightforward adherence to harmful social norms? I can’t answer that. What I can say is that I now have a deeper understanding of the struggle, along with deeper coat pockets crammed full of retinol.

Review: Death Cab for Cutie “Asphalt Meadows”

Posted on March 15, 2023 by Colleen Nerney

Proto-emo indie rock group Death Cab for Cutie has been in the back pocket of sad kids across the world since their debut in 1998, which, unfortunately, is before some of you were born. Those of us who remember a world without the internet, however, are thrilled that Ben Gibbard and his crew of melancholy merry men are back with 2022’s “Asphalt Meadows,” a sprawling return to form and experiment at once.

We’re less thrilled with the fact that there are zero, and I mean zero, songs about asphalt on this record.

I’m not really sure what I expected. I guess that when I was assigned to review “Asphalt Meadows,” I was excited to dig a little deeper into the world of industrial paving. Ben Gibbard has always struck me as the kind of guy who knows the difference between asphalt, concrete, and other various types of construction materials. Boy, was I wrong. With each passing track it became increasingly clear that I’d been duped by the title of this record, and not a single fucking song on this thing has the lyrical content I was so looking forward to.

Really, the more I think about this drastic oversight, the more incensed I become. My father spent his entire life building his parking lot empire from the ground up, pulling himself up by the bootstraps literally and figuratively in order to provide for me and my 17 siblings. They didn’t call him the “Concrete King of the Tri-County Area” for nothing. He kept food on the table for us with some Asphalt Meadows of his very own, if you catch my drift. And yet—not a single fucking song to pay homage to him. Amazingly disrespectful, really.

So when I say this album is a personal affront to everything me and my family stands for, I mean it. I’m appalled. I’m furious. I’m deeply disappointed. I’m sure my father is rolling in his grave.

And frankly, I’m looking for Ben Gibbard’s home address. Please DM me any leads.

Verdict: 1 out of several federal offenses I’m looking to commit

/**/

Blood Transfusion Goes Terribly Wrong After Nurses Take Type O Negative Tattoo Literally

Posted on March 14, 2023 by Tim Sheard

NEW YORK — The medical staff at New York Presbyterian Hospital are facing allegations of medical malpractice after a botched blood transfusion because of a patient’s Type O Negative tattoo, confirmed outraged family members.

“What the hell do you expect,” said Brain Gates, a resident nurse working the graveyard shift. “They wheeled the guy in after he totaled his car, and we didn’t have a lot of time to get him patched up. He lost a lot of blood, and he was delirious. When prompted to tell us his blood type, he just kept shouting ‘black, black, black, black, number one,’ and I had no clue what the fuck he was talking about. I saw the Type O Negative logo on his wrist, contacted triage, and they brought up a quart of what I thought was his blood type. Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, but he’ll probably recover in time. And if he does I’m going to ask him to edit that tattoo so this doesn’t happen again.”

Cunningham’s parents are reeling over the botched procedure, and they believe that Gates should have done a proper line check.

“Roy has all sorts of stupid tattoos, and they’re mostly for bands and comic book shit,” said father Gary Cunningham. “He also has a tattoo for the band Ghost, which I guess we could have taken literally if he didn’t wake up from his fucking coma after the procedure. This kind of lack of attention to detail in the healthcare sector is exactly why this country is going to shit. The only thing they got right with the Type O Negative incident was that the flatline on the monitor had a striking resemblance to the logo.”

Hospital administrator Gail Simmons noted that sometimes mistakes are made in emergency situations.

“Yes, we were wrong to assume Cunningham’s blood type based off of a faded tattoo with bad line work. But when an accident victim is rushed into our section of the hospital, we have to move quickly. When blood loss is already at a critical point, we don’t have time to run all the tests,” said Simmons. “Could we have used better judgment? Yes. But, the harsh reality is that when a patient is convulsing on the floor, and they have a ‘cake and sodomy’ tramp stamp, we sometimes have to assume they’re either in diabetic shock or have something stuck up their ass.”

At press time, HR was spotted asking pressing questions about the new OBGYN’s Infant Annihilator neck tat.

Singer Celebrating 1 Million Spotify Streams Needed Back in Frozen Food Section

Posted on March 14, 2023 by Doug Kolic

WASHINGTON – Local singer Riley Wambach briefly celebrated hitting one million Spotify streams before being summoned back to the frozen food section of the grocery store where she’s been employed for 10 years, according to nearby sources purchasing suspicious amounts of Reddi-wip canisters.

“I’m fucking rich, y’all!” sobbed Wambach as she fell to her knees in an act of unbridled joy. “I’ve busted my ass for so long in the music business that I started to think it was never going to happen. And now by the grace of almighty God I’ll finally be able to quit this shitty store job and live the life I’ve always been destined to, right after I finish stocking the nearly empty ice cream section I’ve been neglecting for days. Then I can decide whether to buy the red Lambo or the yellow one. Hashtag RichPeoplesProblems!”

Fiesta Market & Deli store manager Tom Poblano believed his employee’s celebration was premature.

“Ms. Bigshot can celebrate later, right now I need her to clean up some soggy tilapia that went rank after one of the freezers seized up,” stated the clipboard-wielding boss. “I don’t have the heart to tell her that Spotify doesn’t pay shit and that she’ll still need this job to survive, just like all the other musicians who work here. Maybe I’ll give her a few minutes after she cleans that up before I point out that a service animal just took a nasty dump in front of the Bagel Bites and Hot Pockets section.”

Music expert Tracy Graham explained that streaming services don’t compensate artists enough.

“Many people mistakenly believe they’ll get rich quick by having songs on digital platforms,” explained Graham. “Just because these sites have revolutionized the way fans listen to music doesn’t mean musicians are getting their fair share. Most of them still need to keep hustling with side jobs or continue living with their parents because if there’s one thing that won’t change with the music industry regardless of new technology, it’s the capacity to fuck over hard-working creators. Those leeches are very resilient.”

At press time, Wambach was seen frantically calling her bank to question where the rest of her “fuck you” Spotify residual money was.

Opinion: Show Me Where in the Rulebook It Says a Dog Can’t Be My Only Friend

Posted on March 14, 2023 by Dan Rice

Alright, I want everyone to just settle down. I realize many of you find this unorthodox, but let’s focus on the facts. Yes, this man here is my friend, yes he is my only friend, and yes, he is a pitbull/lab mix by the name of Roscoe. So what? Show me exactly where in the rulebook it says a dog can’t be my sole friend and confidant in this world.

Go on, look it up. I’ll wait.

I wish I could assume that your dumbstruck silence indicates the matter is settled, but I am still sensing a lot of weariness here. I assure you, I checked, and this is allowed. If I were to have sex with Roscoe or ask him to marry me, you would have something. That would be illegal, and frankly wrong. I would have to concede that your protests were valid if I were romantically involved with this dog in any way, but I’m not. We’re just really good friends.

Need I remind you that I was heavily pressured to utilize the plus-one allowed to me for this work luncheon? I was reminded repeatedly that the plus-one did not need to be a significant other. At one point, I was even asked, “don’t you have a single friend who wants a free steak?” It’s not my fault that no one asked any follow-up questions when I said “Well, there is my buddy
Roscoe.” And I think you’ll find that my friend here enjoys a free steak as much as any human.

Okay okay, I can see it in your eyes. “How can a dog be your only friend?” you want to ask. “A dog can’t even talk!” Well, I’ve had a lot of friends who could talk over the years, and they all wound up either boring me or lying to me. Not Roscoe though, never a false note out of this guy. He’s loyal, his zoomies are top-notch entertainment, and if he needs something from me like treats or belly rubs he lets me know it. Roscoe doesn’t play games.

Speaking of games, don’t even try to tell me Roscoe can’t participate in the company basketball game after this because I’ve got news for you.

We Tried To See if Dead Baby Jokes Were Still a Thing and Now We’re Being Called Into HR

Posted on March 14, 2023 by Ben Friedman

With all the terrible things going on in the world, sometimes you need to laugh to keep yourself from crying. Everyone is so cynical about life and I don’t blame them! Black humor has helped us push through some bleak moments in our lives, new ones which seem to be occurring on the daily. This is why I’m surprised that my killer set of dead baby jokes at the office is being rewarded with a meeting with HR.

I figured it was safe to assume that dead baby jokes were grandfathered into the resurgence of early 2000s nostalgia like low-rise jeans and iCarly. But I guess some people who were born in the actual year of 2003 aren’t hip to the dark humor that permeated the early aughts.

Give me a break, my generation watched 9/11 happen.

If anything, I started a dialog. And that dialog apparently made its way over to HR where I’m sure they’ll make me explain “what’s so funny about it” and all that bullshit. But if I have to explain to them how many babies it takes to paint a house it’s not funny anymore!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in the mindset that people are too sensitive these days but we need to discuss where the line is drawn. I have literally seen TikTok videos making light of dead spouses and family members getting tens, sometimes thousands, of likes. But should you posit a scenario about fitting 50 babies into a bucket by way of a blender, you get uninvited from the office happy hour. And these babies aren’t even real! Who’s the real asshole here?

I’m like 99% sure people were laughing! Hell, Carol in accounting was practically laughing so hard she was crying. Seriously, she cried for a long time, all the way into the bathroom for 20 minutes. Holy hell that was a good joke. I’m sure she’ll vouch for me.

I joked my way into this, and I can joke my way out. Easy as pie! That’s made out of babies! Jesus, the jokes write themselves. I think I’ve got this, just as soon as IT gets here and they help us figure out why my ID badge and email have been disabled.

Punk Celebrates 20 Years of Complaining About AFI Selling Out

Posted on March 13, 2023 by Zach Hudson

MILWAUKEE — Local punk Max Prime is celebrating his 20th year of incessant complaining about his former favorite band AFI signing to a major label and becoming “unforgivable sellouts,” sources who cannot believe he’s still doing this shit confirm.

“Man, it’s hard to believe ‘Sing The Sorrow’ is already 20 years old. I still remember hearing it for the first time and immediately knowing AFI was finished,” said Prime, shaking his head grimly. “I knew I had to make it my mission to tell everyone how I knew about them before they were huge, and how I’ll never listen to any of their new stuff. Normally I can only find things to complain about regarding an artist for like five, maybe ten years, so this is a really big deal for me. My buddies have mostly stopped bringing up AFI around me, but I’m sure they have something planned for this milestone.”

Prime’s housemate Brad White does not have any plans to help him celebrate and wish he’d shut the fuck up about it already.

“No, we definitely don’t have anything planned. In fact I booked an AirBnB just so I could get away for a few days while Max rants to no one,” said White. “I like ‘Sing the Sorrow,’ and I like everything AFI has put out since. Well, except for ‘Crash Love.’ I don’t really care for ‘Bodies’ either actually, but that’s not the point. Bands evolve, it’s normal, and they still make an effort to play some deep cuts at every gig. If Max wants to just mope around listening to ‘Very Proud Of Ya’ for the rest of his life, that’s his problem.”

Members of AFI report a deep desire for fans to move on.

“Yeah, I know who Max is. He DMs me all the time complaining about our sound and how I used to be his idol and I betrayed him,” said frontman Davey Havock while braiding his mullet. “I’ve had him muted for years, but every now and then I check in and see if he’s moved on, and no, he has not. We’re all used to this now though. Just once I want to play a show without some crusty punk yelling at us to play some old stuff. And then when we do play the old stuff, they still just stand there with their arms crossed. Fucking annoying.”

At press time, Prime offered unprompted to give an extended interview breaking down every reason why “Sing The Sorrow” “sucks.”

I Gave John Lennon the Finger Guns the Day He Died and I’ve Felt Guilty Ever Since

Posted on March 13, 2023 by Doug Kolic

I have a confession. It’s been eating away at me for decades. On December 8th, 1980 when I waited outside of the Dakota Apartments hoping for a glimpse of my idol. Though I wasn’t able to meet him, I was able to briefly make eye contact and fire off a couple of cool finger guns at him. Later that night, I’d learn that my idol, John Lennon, had died of gunshot wounds.

They say to never meet your heroes. I never knew this is what they were warning me about.

I’ve thought about that day often. The day my harmless gesture ended in tragedy. I keep thinking of what I could have done differently. Maybe I should have tipped an imaginary hat. No! Regret fixes nothing. I must simply confess to what I’ve done and move on one day at a time.

I never told anyone about that day until now. One minute I was having a personal interaction with Mr. Ono himself, and the next I was watching football and having to learn about his demise. For a split second I thought I had magical finger-bullet-shooting powers and that was bittersweet, but when I realized it was a coincidence, I only felt bitter.

It feels so good to finally get all of this out. Obviously, I didn’t cause the death of my hero. But confessing to my symbolic part in his murder is cathartic nonetheless. Someday I’ll work up the courage to talk about the time I gave the throat-cutting gesture to a waiter on June 12th, 1994 at the Mezzaluna restaurant in Brentwood, California after he refused to give me a free refill.

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