So You Made a Deal with God and Got Him to Swap Our Places: Now What?

Posted on by Colleen Nerney

Wow! You actually did it, you absolute queen. After so much deliberation and preparation, you managed to do the impossible — you made a deal with God and got him to swap our places, you crazy son of a bitch. But you may find yourself thinking: “what’s next?”

Fortunately, we’re here to help you out. Here’s everything you need to know about how to move forward!

Step 1: Celebrate!

Seriously, you deserve it. It’s no small feat to strike a deal with the Big Man himself. And getting him to swap our places, of all things. Take a minute to really pat yourself on the back.

Step 2: Assess your surroundings

I would say I’m having a little party as well, but considering my place in this trade, supermax prison isn’t exactly the best place to do that. I’m in solitary right now, dude, and I’m starting to feel a little paranoid that maybe I got the short end of the stick here.

Step 3: Realize the extent of your crimes

I honestly had no idea you had fucked up this bad! I kind of assumed that this would be an equal deal, you know? Like God would at least give me something cool in exchange for giving up my spot in life. Instead I’m literally on death row. That’s fucked up of you twice over. You know, once for killing that guy and once for pinning it on me like this.

Step 4: Beg (Please God Help Me)

Actually, you know what? It’s fucked up of God, too. Isn’t he supposed to be benevolent or some shit? What did I do to deserve this?

Please. No seriously, please help. I’m manacled to the floor and getting really tired of eating mysterious food passed through a one-inch slot in the door.

Step 5: Acceptance

Well, I guess this is it for me. I’m doomed to live out how ever many days the state decides I have left in this hellhole. But in the meantime…

Step 6: Consider asking God for revenge

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, right? Right?

Cop Jealous of How Many Teenagers School Shooter was Able to Take Down in Single Day

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

CEDARBURG, Wisc. — Local school safety officer Jacob Miller quietly admitted he was jealous of a gunman that opened fire on a classroom killing eight students and a teacher, confirmed sources close to the law enforcement official.

“I have a lot of free time during that day and yeah, sometimes I fantasize about putting on my tactical belt, throwing on a slick looking cloak, and just lighting up these little assholes,” said Officer Miller while stringing police tape around the crime scene. “These kids are so mean, they’re sort of asking for it. They walk by me and snort like a pig, and a group of the popular girls call me ‘fatty boombalatty.’ The student that did the shooting was a kid I used to mentor; I thought he would have had a great career in law enforcement if he didn’t blow his own brains out after reading a few pages from his manifesto over the school intercom.”

Members of the community were outraged to learn the police officer assigned to protect the school did nothing to stop the shooting.

“There is video footage of that piece of shit cop seeing the gunman entering the school and turning and walking in the other direction,” said local parent Maria Schultz. “Security cameras show Officer Miller ducking into the teacher’s lounge, locking the door, then breaking the glass on the vending machine and eating three Snickers bars faster than a hungry dog with a bone. It makes me sick to think that this was the man that was supposed to keep our kids safe.”

Despite being subjected to several mass murders each month, lawmakers are not expected to make any substantial gun control laws.

“You would think that America would finally wise up and do something to limit who has access to guns, but what actually happens is the gun lobby spins the narrative to say ‘we need more guns, guns everywhere will keep people safe,’” said gun control activist Tara Moyd. “These people are truly deranged and have lost the ability to reason. If your house was on fire they wouldn’t suggest calling the fire department, they would say ‘go spray the rooms that aren’t on fire yet with gasoline, the fire will be distracted by the smell.’”

Following the latest shooting board members at the NRA celebrated another record-breaking month for donations.

Hospitals Overloaded With Injured 40-Year-Old Men Following Release of New Botch Song

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

TACOMA, Wash. — Doctors and nurses across the country were forced to set up triage stations to help treat middle-aged men with soft tissue injuries thanks to the new Botch single “One Twenty Two,” multiple sources needing ice packs confirmed.

“We haven’t seen anything like this since Cave In started playing their old songs live again,” said Dr. Alice Winston. “Within an hour of the song’s release, I treated over a dozen men for strained hamstrings, rolled ankles, and what many described as ‘some sort of pinched nerve’ in their neck. It’s just been ramping up all day long as more and more old dudes hear the single. Eventually our waiting room was full with these guys listening to the song together, talking about how many times they saw Botch live, and eventually making their injuries worse when they tried to show off some mosh moves.”

Daryl Tucker, one of the many men seeking treatment, believes the band is to blame.

“Botch should know better than to surprise their fans like this. If I had known a new song was dropping I would have visited my chiropractor, seen a massage specialist, and done some light stretching,” said Tucker while lying on the floor trying not to move. “This wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if the song sucked, but unfortunately, it rips, and we are all paying the price. My only saving grace is that I work at a motorcycle repair shop and all my coworkers including my boss also love Botch and ended up hurting themselves too. So we are closed until Monday at least.”

Physical therapist Anya Selle says this should serve as a warning for all hardcore kids approaching middle age.

“When Have Heart played those reunion shows a few years back, my website crashed from the amount of people needing help,” said Selle. “People have to understand that as we age our bones become more brittle, muscles are not as elastic, and fatigue sets in almost immediately. If you haven’t listened to the new Botch song yet, I recommend you do at least two weeks of cardio and some yoga, then maybe you will remain healthy. But take it slow.”

At press time, aging fans reported being mysteriously kicked off their health care plans as rumors of a full Botch reunion began to swirl.

“We Are Co-Headlining,” Claims Opener

Posted on by Dan Kozuh

CHICAGO — Touring punk band Crazy Cool Maggie told several sources that they are technically co-headlining with more well-known group S.O.A.P., despite the fact that they are clearly just the opening act, concert attendees report.

“When S.O.A.P. brought us on for this tour, we floated the idea of actually co-headlining and they were totally on board with it,” Crazy Cool Maggie frontman Blake Owen said to several bystanders who happened to be hanging around the merch table. “Technically speaking, we haven’t actually closed out a show yet, but S.O.A.P. had some family in the audience the past few nights so we let them take the lead. And before that we were near their hometown so it wouldn’t be right to steal the spotlight. There are still three more shows, so we will probably close after tonight, for sure.”

S.O.A.P., however, has no intentions of ever letting that happen.

“Yeah–I kinda remember them saying something about co-headlining, but we really just agreed to the possibility of it because they own a van and ours just broke down,” S.O.A.P guitarist Betsy Roy explained. “We figured that after two weeks they would get the hint, but they just aren’t. We are running out of excuses. Today we told them that our frontman is trying to kick heroin and he really needs the self-esteem boost. Now I have to go buy some heroin and plant it in his bag so it seems believable.”

Music Sociologist Dr. Nina Jackson explained that this behavior is often done to avoid confrontation.

“It is difficult to find a band willing to go through the stress of touring while being just an opening act, so many times larger bands will make promises that they never plan on fulfilling,” Jackson said. “Sometimes it’s a higher cut of the door revenue, or that they won’t have to load in everyone’s equipment. Being taken advantage of by a more successful band is all a part of paying your dues in the music business.”

UPDATE: Crazy Cool Maggie finally succeeded in becoming the headliner after S.O.A.P. dropped out of the last leg of the tour due to low ticket sales.

If Metallica Is Good Enough To Perform With a Symphony So Is Korn

Posted on by Yancy Lee Crawford

When I first heard Metallica was doing another album with the world-famous San Francisco Symphony a few years ago, I was like, “Symphonies are for dorks,” but I was also like, “That should’a been Korn.” If it has to be done, Korn is the band that should bring the mosh pit to the Sydney Opera House–or at least the San Jose Center for the Arts–because Metallica is lame.

There are so many reasons why this is a great idea, and absolutely all of them have something to do with the 24-ounce Monster Energy I shotgunned five minutes ago.

I CAN TASTE COLORS!

For starters, Jonathan Davis is an accomplished multi-instrumentalist. Can you imagine some sick-ass symphony motherfuckers backing the band on “Shoots and Ladders”? Picture Jonathan Davis walking out on stage killing the bagpipes while a bunch of Ibanez 7-string violins in drop D tuning shred with Head and Munky. You know that would be sick. Obviously, Jonathan will wear a kilt, and symphony bastards love multicultural motherfuckers.

And don’t forget the scatting! All the Franklins, Theodores, and mistresses in the audience will BOOM-DA-DA-MMM-DUM-NA-EE-MA DA-BOOM-DA-DA-MMM-DUM-NA-EE-MA love that shit.

Scatting is art, and we need to normalize having a weird, thin mustache and spontaneously bursting into fits of syllabic seizure.

Sure, Metallica has a long history of dynamic songwriting, virtuosic solos, and a massive base of rabid fans that make them a natural fit to play a show with the fancy band geeks, but Korn would definitely do it better.

My heart feels like it’s gonna RUM-DUM-DI-DUM pop, dude.

Never forget that Metallica sold out, dude. James and the boys have been releasing an endless stream of absolute turds since “And Justice for All.” Know who never sold out? Korn. They never stopped making greasy music for the children of under-educated Midwesterners when they got popular. Maybe it was the meth. Maybe it was the continuous lyrical rehashing of unprocessed childhood trauma. Maybe they’re just physically unable to play different chords or strings or tempos. Who knows?

Bottom line: “A.D.I.D.A.S.” would sound better with bassoons and French horns. Plus, Korn shows are the only public place I can wear my Lee Pipes without ridicule.

Now, point me to a hospital. I CAN HEAR THE DEVIL TAKING A SHIT.

Inconsiderate Man Burdens Friend With Free Concert Tickets

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

INDIANAPOLIS — Local asshole Brodie Mccaffery had the audacity to burden his work friend Dianne Lin with 100% free, no strings attached concert tickets, multiple sources confirmed.

“I bought tickets to see Weed Killer a few months ago, but unfortunately my friend’s mom had unexpectedly passed away, so I’ll now be spending that evening baking casseroles for the family as they sit shiva. I’m disappointed I’ll miss the show, but it’s more important to be there for my loved ones,” said the incredibly rude and thoughtless piece of garbage Mccaffery. “Luckily, my co-worker Dianne is a huge fan. I’m just glad someone will get to enjoy the concert. Although she did seem kind of perturbed when I handed her tickets, but then I heard her mutter ‘mother fucking asshole’ under her breath, which I guess is her way of saying she’s really excited for the show.”

Lin explained her frustration with her coworker’s generous obligation.

“I really thought Brodie was my friend. But then, out of nowhere, he foists show tickets on me and carelessly offers to pay for parking. Now I have to fucking leave the house and be around people for a whole Friday,” said Lin. “I tried to weasel out of it, but then he said he’d finish my quarterly reports so I could leave work early, as well as change my oil on his lunch break. All I ever want is to Grubhub fast food and binge ‘Love It or List It.’ But now I gotta put on jeans.”

Perhaps related, Weed Killer lead singer Gina Dalton noticed a change in audience demeanor during the band’s recent tour.

“The other night I asked the crowd how they were feeling, but the reaction was lukewarm shrugs mixed with outright aggravation,” said Dalton. “Throughout the night I saw a bunch of people taking joyless photos of themselves in front of the stage, as if they needed evidence they were there. Then after our set, we went backstage before the encore. A few minutes later we returned to the stage and everyone vanished. We played two last songs for a few empty beer bottles and some servers breaking down their workstations.”

At press time, Lin is planning to fake a pregnancy and take maternity leave after learning Mccaffery is offering several of his coworkers a free, week-long stay at his lake house.

Review: Danzig “Skeletons”

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

Each week we bring you a review of an album that mysteriously appeared in our office. We have no idea how these albums get here, we don’t know how we can even afford an office, but this week we’re reviewing the Danzig album “Skeletons.”

This Danzig album is interesting, it’s an album of covers and all the songs are handpicked by the artist himself. He says the album is called “Skeletons” because these songs are what make him who he is. Without these tracks, he wouldn’t be the same Danzig we know and tolerate today.

This thought sent me spiraling. I began to picture what I would be like without a skeleton and it’s kept me up at night for weeks. What would life be like without bones? I’ve really gotten accustomed to having bones, but the thought persisted and it was my journalistic duty to have all my bones removed in order to find out what life would be like without a skeleton.

I contacted every doctor in Los Angeles and not a single one of these quacks was willing to remove any of my bones. But I was not deterred. I went on the dark web and found a German physician that claims he specializes in bone removal. I booked a flight to Munich the next day.

I arrived at the doctor’s office and after a five-minute consultation, he was willing to remove my skeleton for the sake of science. He claimed that he had run out of anesthesia so he pumped me full of heroin to dull the pain and we were off. 16 hours later I woke up and I was basically a puddle wrapped in a leathery skin sack. The pain was intolerable. I tried to scream, but the doctor had already sewn my mouth shut.

That’s when I noticed my perfectly preserved skeleton in the corner dressed in a ball gown. What did the mad doctor have planned for my bones? After what seemed like an eternity, he came into the room dressed in a full tuxedo and began dancing with my skeleton. Twirling and dipping, his smile as wide as the Autobahn is long. He then dropped down on one knee and proposed to the structure that had once made me human. Judging by his reaction, my skeleton said yes.

SCORE: Please help me, I need my bones back–

/**/

Show Poster Fond Reminder of That Time You Had $60

Posted on by Max Barth

PHILADELPHIA – A framed show poster for local band Shardcone is a fond reminder of that one night, years ago, when you had sixty dollars.

“I remember that show because I was on a first date with the person I ended up marrying, the sky was beautiful and I actually had a small amount of expendable income in my pocket earmarked for ‘fun,’” you said while comically turning your pockets inside out. “For a brief shining moment, my future was full of possibilities. Then I bought a poster that matches nothing in my home. And for some goddamn reason I went and got it framed, too, for another $60. I can’t imagine doing that now, being so young and reckless and free.”

Your former roommate and finance guru Aubrie Dhillon expressed their dismay at your fiscally irresponsible purchase.

“If you had simply invested that sixty bucks in conservative mutual funds, you’d likely be sitting on nearly twice the amount at the moment. Hell, if you buried the money in a jar and bought the poster now on eBay, you’d have the cold hard cash leftover to throw at your car payment,” said Dhillon. “Instead you thought it was wise to pay full price for a low resolution image depicting a hand in which each finger has a name indecipherably scribbled on it. For some sort of band with the worst name possible. Shardcone? Is that right? That can’t be right.”

Shardcone bassist Linda Leidt, now a night shift supervisor at an Alaskan bitcoin farm, had to be reminded of the show that changed your life.

“Oh, right. Well, at the time I guess it seemed really important to us that our biggest fans–mostly friends and people we worked with at the coffee shop–could get a keepsake, something to remember us by as we thought recording any of our actual music was selling out,” said Leidt “We made posters, postcards, shitty little paper keychains. Anything that the printer at my dad’s firm could handle. If I recall, we spent the proceeds on extra-long grill lighters so our drummer could light his farts on fire without hurting his wrist.”

As of press time, reports indicate that your spouse has been trying to get rid of the poster for the past three years.

5 David Sedaris Books That Will Trick You and Your Date Into Thinking You Have Anything Else in Common

Posted on by Dan Rice

David Sedaris is one of the most beloved and universally appreciated writers of our time. His sharp wit, powers of observation and dark humor-meets-heart approach makes his work appealing to all walks of life. This can get you into a lot of trouble romantically.

It’s a joy to recount David Sedaris’ stories with a fellow fan. Unfortunately, this runs out at a point, and you may or may not have anything else to say to each other. This point can come as early as a second date or as late as a “hey, we live together.”

Calypso
Don’t let the subject matter of growing old turn you off, “Calypso” sees Sedaris at the height of his universally appreciated wit. Bonding over this book is enough to convince incompatible people of any age that they should see eachother again when they categorically should not. It only ranks low on our list because it came out in 2018 and no one has read a book since 2014.

Holidays on Ice
Everyone loves a darkly comedic spin on the holiday season. Seriously, everyone, regardless of background, political affiliation, or value system.

Naked
By the time you realize you and your partner have this book and only this book in common, they will have already met your parents, and the pressure to keep this thing going for some reason will be at a full boil.

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
Sedaris’s penchant for finding the madness in the mundane may inspire you to become a writer yourself. For example, you could write about the time you had sex with someone a bunch of times before realizing they were a republican because you both liked “Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim.”

Me Talk Pretty One Day
You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll start an unsustainable relationship with someone that you will end with a text message that they reply to with a “thumbs up” react.

We Sat Down With the One Millennial Who Can Digest Dairy to Figure Out His Deal

Posted on by Amanda Russel

Steven Jones, an otherwise boring millennial with an even more boring name, has been hiding an extraordinary, superhuman ability: digesting dairy without immediately having explosive diarrhea. We sat down with the man and the legend in his apartment living room over a truly incredible-looking cheese plate to figure out his whole deal.

“I don’t know,” Jones said, maybe a little too proudly cutting a huge hunk of brie off the wedge and shoving the entire thing in his mouth, with not a hint of fear in his eyes or a Lactaid in sight. “It’s like, fuckin’, I guess Big Milk got you all. I never drank my milk in the 90s when our parents were brainwashed by all those Got Milk? Ads. I was an asshole contrarian kid, you know? I think you all just drank so much milk your bodies got sick of it. Literally, ha ha!” He quipped, as he finished his brie and moved on to what appeared to be a smoked gouda. We tried and failed to crack a smile at the blowhard.

According to Jones, there was a distinct moment when he first realized there was something special about him and that he was envied. In college, when he pulled some string cheese out in class one day and casually started eating it, a hush fell over the room and he heard angry whispers from his classmates.

“I didn’t know everyone else couldn’t do what I do anymore,” Jones told us with a shit-eating grin that was physically painful to behold.

“He just took that string cheese out in front of all of us and just rawdogged it with no Lactaid or anything,” recounted a stunned classmate. Sources say the students all watched in awe as Jones ate the string cheese and miraculously stayed in the remainder of the lecture without a single bathroom break. “He didn’t even have to run to the bathroom. I know we were all waiting for him to get the shits, but NOTHING. It was like watching a dog run out into the road and being pretty sure it’s gonna get hit, but then nothing bad happens to it.”

The smugness in Jones’ face was increasingly evident as he continued demolishing the cheese platter, which would have glued any regular millennial to the toilet for days. He bit into a cheese curd and chewed it without breaking eye contact. We quickly thought of ways to bring the conversation to a close as soon as possible.

What’s next for Steven Jones, you may ask?
“I might become a cheesemonger. Or I could taste test cheese for a living. I don’t want to waste my talents. Or I could let scientists study me! Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” He finished the pile of cheese curds, beamed, and said “ta da!”

At this point, we said our goodbyes and cut our conversation short because we couldn’t take this dude anymore. Good luck with your career, you piece of shit.

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