Kyle Gordon Stanley, Author at HARDTIMES

Real-Life “Scream”? This Guy Won’t Stop Quizzing Us About Horror Movies

Posted on October 31, 2022 by Audrey Vieira

The original “Scream” is a must-see horror classic that still terrifies audiences today, mainly because it’s so true to life. I can sleep comfortably after watching supernatural horrors like “Child’s Play” and “It” knowing that dolls aren’t possessed and clowns aren’t real, but the terrifying antagonist in “Scream,” Randy the annoying film bro, is very real. And men just like the horrifying and inquisitive character brought menacingly to life by Jamie Kennedy are hiding in plain sight, ready to attack with unsolicited trivia questions.

I know this because I am a real-life “Randy” victim. Currently I’m trapped in the garage at a house party with this guy from my film class who won’t stop quizzing me about iconic horror films. It started off innocuously enough. He asked about my favorite scary movies and I answered “Scream.” But what followed was a flurry of vicious and insulting questions each designed to surgically weed out any so-called “fake” horror fans. Maybe this onslaught isn’t as bad as getting stabbed to death by a masked maniac that turns out to be your boyfriend, but it’s definitely a close second.

Ugh, now he’s asking me to name my three favorite kills in the franchise. And apparently one of my answers is wrong because the body never appeared onscreen. Who cares? I’ll name every kill in the franchise if it means I can return to drinking in peace. I tried telling him my favorite kill was seeing that “dipshit film geek Randy” get stabbed to death by Ghostface in “Scream 2” but apparently he doesn’t get the hint and instead explains to me how that was meant as an homage to Hammer horror films. I asked him which Hammer movie is his favorite but he quickly changed the subject.

I’m not sure how much longer we can keep answering these questions. As if gatekeeping movies wasn’t bad enough, this guy is also gatekeeping re-entry into the party by standing in front of the door while he interrogates me about “Dead/Alive.” There’s a doggy door in the garage that looks big enough to fit a skinny, desperate partygoer. Let’s just hope nobody decides to get their car in the next minute or two.

Real Life Babadook? I Hate My Kid

Posted on October 30, 2022 by Dan Rice

They say the day your child is born is supposed to be the greatest day of your life. I’m here to tell you that’s a crock of shit. Ever since my little bundle of scream-crying, temper tantrums, and expenses came into this world my life has been an elevated horror.

Everyone, say hello to my little guy. My guy is named Brandon. My guy fucking sucks.

Back in 2014, I watched a little sleeper-hit horror movie called “The Babadook.” It follows a woman in a situation so horrifying I thought it could only occur in fiction; being saddled with a kid you don’t like very much. I remember thinking “Wow, thank God that in real life when you have kids they don’t completely suck like that kid sure seemed to.”

Apparently, life really does imitate art, because two years after we watched that movie my wife gave birth to Brandon and I haven’t slept a full night since. Spooky!

Pretty much the only difference between me and that lady in the movie is I don’t have a cool fairy-tale ghost to play around with.

Sure, Brandon doesn’t excel at making improvised projectile weapons from household items like that little Damien in the movie did, but he wreaks just as much havoc without them! His weapons of choice are the word “no,” throwing fits in public places, and leaving his goddamn toys right on the goddamn stairs every goddam night!

I tried explaining all of this to a psychologist to see if they could fix this little shit but they just gave me an earful about depression this, narcissistic personality disorder that, “you need medication and therapy” and blah blah blah. They didn’t say anything that addressed the primary issue that I thought I laid out pretty clearly, this kid sucks!

If someone could take this fucker off my hands for a night or two or forever I would super fucking appreciate it because I’m at the end of my goddam rope with his “I’m hungry! I can’t sleep! Pokemon!” fucking nonsense! That or send some A24 cameras down here so at least we can get another good movie out of the hellscape that is my life.

Don’t have kids, you guys.

Ghost at Ouija Board a Little Freaked Out Because He Also Didn’t Move the Thingy

Posted on October 30, 2022 by Vince Ratti

TALLAHASSEE, Fla. – A ghost present while several tweens were playing with a ouija board became pretty freaked out after the thingy moved without his intervention, multiple giggling sources confirmed.

“I’m not going to be mad, I just want to know who did it,” moaned the mildly shaken, amorphous spirit. “I know I didn’t move the lil’ slidey piece and Isabella, Sophia, Emma, Emma S., and Emma J. all say they didn’t move it, so one of these little shits has to be a liar. Because if they didn’t do it, and I didn’t do it, that’s fucked up, and I don’t like it.”

Tension was temporarily broken when Claire Dublois, the host’s mother who had been keeping an eye on the group, announced that dinner would be there soon.

“I thought it would be fun to sit down with the girls for a minute, ask the ouija board what it thought dinner was going to be, and then push the spooky puck around to spell out p-i-z-z-a,” Dublois explained. “The girls groaned at my joke, of course. But then there was an unsettling gust of cold air and I swear I sensed this anxious, gullible presence in the room. As if there was an increasingly nervous idiot sitting right there with us. Certainly in the Halloween spirit!”

Jimmy Barnett, the pizza delivery guy, was able to catch a glimpse of the phenomena firsthand.

“I was so fucking high when I delivered their pizza that I swear I could see some kind of knockoff Casper floating around those kids,” Chasford recalled, shivering. “They asked the ouija board to tell them who was going to bring them to the dance, and as that doodad spelled out the names, the girls squealed, and the creepy ghost motherfucker started having a full goddamn meltdown. He was clearly way more scared than they were. Who knows what he would have done if i had told him about the poltergeist I saw rolling its eyes right behind him.”

At press time, the ghost was having a panic attack when the group of 13-year-old-girls decided to play “light as a feather, stiff as a board.”

Review: Type O Negative “The Origin of the Feces”

Posted on October 30, 2022 by James Knapp

Each week The Hard Times reflects on a classic album from rock history. This week we decided to review Type O Negative’s “The Origin of Feces” because our dad wouldn’t let us listen to it when we were growing up.

Yeah, we know it’s fucking lame. But hey, our old man sure was a huge lamewad. He never let us listen to anything cool, especially if the record had a picture of a butthole on the front of it, so that meant “Origin of Feces” was not an option. We had the same argument with the old buzzkill about “Frankenchrist” as well – so look forward to that review later on as well.

So dad really was a jerk. He wouldn’t even listen to the album. He’d just look at the sleeve at tracks like “I Know You’re Fucking Someone Else” or “Kill You Tonight” and just dismiss the whole fucking thing outta hand. Open your mind, pops! You don’t understand the young people.

I mean, if we’re being honest, this record isn’t even that heavy. A handful of songs with moderate distortion about shitty ex-girlfriends and wanting to kill yourself – subject wise they’re basically eight-minute-long versions of Descendents songs. And dad had no problem with those records because of the “funny nerd drawing” on the cover.

And yeah it’s been kind of a bummer about the record but don’t tell our dad that. He can never know that he was sorta right about this. We mean, he wasn’t, he never is. But still maybe just don’t mention this to him at all.

Anyway, next week we’re gonna review beer. Like, just beer as an intoxicant because that one time he caught us drinking in the laundry room and he made us pour out our whole six-pack of Bartles and Jaymes. Fuck you dad! We do what we want now!

SCORE: 5 out of 5 mid-nineties wines coolers

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Deluxe Reissue of The Cure’s “Disintegration” Comes Pre-covered in Cat Hair

Posted on October 30, 2022 by Dave McNamara

CRAWLEY, West Sussex — Goth rock giants the Cure reissued their seminal 1989 album “Disintegration” in a deluxe box set complete with bonus outtakes, live tracks, and an 80-page booklet, all completely covered in a thick layer of cat hair.

“At first I was confused. I thought my tabby Edgar had gotten to the records before I did,” said Cure superfan Todd ‘Sepulcher’ Sadowski. “But then I read the packaging notes and realized the cat hair was intentional. It almost made me cry tears of joy, if that were at all possible anymore. The only thing that brings me any semblance of joy in this world is the sound of Robert Smith’s guitar and the fluffy snuggle of a feline friend, and now I have both. You do have to lint brush the vinyl before you play it, but lord knows I have plenty of those lying around.”

Cure frontman Robert Smith was extremely proud to be a part of the world’s first feline-based reissue.

“If I could make records exclusively for cats instead of people, I would,” said Smith. “I’ve really lost my love for humans long ago. They let you down and they break your heart. Cats are the only ones you can truly depend on in the end. Then they’ll eat your face to survive, but after I’ve shed this fuselage my cats can do with it what they please. And I know my true fans feel the same, that’s why I decided to shroud this reissue in the dearest substance possible.”

Cosmo Doyle runs the Black Wax record pressing plant in West London charged with the production of this unusual request.

“Turns out you can’t shave cats for commercial purposes in the UK,” said Doyle. “So all the hair used in this packaging had to be shed naturally. This was a bit of a curve ball, so I had a couple of employees hit the thrift shops looking for old clothes and jackets covered in the stuff. We really hit the jackpot when I had them go to the coatroom at the Substitute English Teacher’s Union headquarters in Sussex. Those people really love their cats.”

At press time, the band announced plans to release a deluxe edition of “Seventeen Seconds” which would be soaked in the tears of an actual grieving widow.

Satan Still Blushes Every Time Metal Bands Write a Song About Him

Posted on October 29, 2022 by Chris Bowen

HELL — Ruler of the underworld and Dark Lord Satan admitted that even after all these years, he is still flattered whenever he hears a heavy metal band has written a song about him, several horned, pointy-tailed sources report.

“I still just find it so sweet that all these talented musicians could choose any deity in the world to write about, yet they still choose to pick little ol’ me,” Satan said while giggling and kicking up some stones from under his hoof. “I mean, I’m just the supreme monarch of Hades and all, nothing special. But from Black Sabbath in the ‘70s, to Mercyful Fate in the ‘80s, and now with Ghost blowing up, I’m still flattered when my likeness is used just as much as the first time my name was mentioned in ‘War Pigs.’ See, my big red face is even redder just thinking about it!”

George Manning, singer of heavy metal band “Rites of Old” talks about what a pleasure it is to pay tribute to his unholy lord and master.

“Our band, and heavy metal in general, owes all our success to the big guy downstairs,” Manning explained while touching up his upside-down cross stick-and-poke. “Knowing that he appreciates and loves kind words from fans like us makes me all the more proud to have named our debut record ‘Satanic Satans From Hell.’ I know he’s a bit bashful, but it’s that sense of humbleness mixed with, you know, being the essence of evil, that is what makes bands like Slayer and Venom want to base their entire careers off him.”

Herman Burger, High Priest of the Satanic Temple in Salem, Massachusetts, expressed his jealousy and displeasure that Lucifer is clearly playing favorites with his worshippers.

“It’s fucking bullshit, man. I’ve spent years and years attempting to get the attention of the Dark One with Satanic masses, seances, ritual kidnappings, sacrifices, and just about everything else I could think of,” Burger said as he stumbled over his loose fitting cloak. “But no, Satan doesn’t give two shits unless it’s praise coming from some greasy haired, beer breathed caveman in an Iron Maiden shirt. I didn’t want to go too evil and convert to Catholicism, but I may have no choice.”

At press time, Satan was seen walking with a bit more pep in his step after seeing the tracklist for an upcoming Nunslaughter album.

Rising Cost of Touring Threatens To Destroy the “Guy Who Slashes Tires Outside the Venue” Industry

Posted on October 29, 2022 by James Knapp

BALTIMORE — A new study found that rising inflation, paired with the inherent financial strain put on touring bands, could potentially wipe out the once bustling industry of pointlessly slashing the tires of the very people who traveled quite a long way just to play a shitty basement venue, sources with unresolved rage issues confirmed.

“It used to be that I could go out three or four times a week to slash some band’s van tires while they argued with the booker over the door take,” explained genuine bastard Glen Henson. “But lately, I’m lucky if I can sink this rusty half of a pair of scissors into rubber even once a month. The last band band to tour here did it on fucking bicycles! I don’t think I can take much more of this, a man has to work. I’m starting to feel useless.”

Calvin Marsters, owner of local venue The Shit Shelter, gave his perspective on the recent trend.

“People have been slashing tires outside of this place since before it even opened. Seriously, like I hadn’t even signed the deed yet when some jackass stuck a piece of loose scrap metal into my Plymouth’s whitewalls,” recalled Marsters. “But really, that’s just a part of this place’s history. And now all of that history is in jeopardy just because of this shitty economy. Also, I don’t like to pay the bands.”

Numerous touring bands, however, reacted with far less negativity to recent changes in the “slashin’ industry.”

“I’m really bummed that we aren’t able to tour as often, and it’s doubly unfortunate now that we could actually park outside the venue without some piece of shit shiving our converted paddy wagon with a sharpened umbrella handle,” said Mel Allmer, drummer for art-thrash band Freakarooney. “On the other hand, we’ve really built up our presence locally, what with no touring bands to share the stage with. And since there’s no tires to slash, people are actually inside watching the fucking show. That’s kind of a nice silver lining.”

At press time, an emotionally broken Henson was being physically removed from an area Firestone franchise.

Cost of Living Crisis: I’m Paying $950 per Month Just To Be One of the People Under the Stairs

Posted on October 29, 2022 by Dan Rice

When I moved to Los Angeles to make it as a musician or actor or influencer, I had no illusions about how hard it would be. I knew I would need to struggle to make ends meet, and fully accepted that I would probably only be able to live in a “bad” neighborhood.

I’m busting my ass off just to be imprisoned in a basement with a bunch of semi-cannibalistic ghouls as part of a deranged murder couple’s sex game.

My landlords, who only go by Mommy and Daddy, are exploitative class traitors at best.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the abysmal living conditions. The basement is dirty and full of rats, which is the primary food source for me and the other roommates since we aren’t allowed to leave.

As a tenant/captive with no car, in an area with limited public transportation and a basement with no chance of escape, my employment prospects are extremely limited. Me and a couple of my roommates, Fool and Roach, get by selling Cutco knives over the phone, and what little money we scrap gets eaten on the 1st when Daddy comes down with his gimp suit and his shotgun to collect rent. It’s like the system is designed to keep us poor!

I’m also not allowed to have pets, which is bullshit because the landlords have a Rottweiler, who has been trained to maul us should we find ourselves upstairs by the way.

If a lightbulb burns or breaks guess what, that part of the basement is just dark forever now because these fuckers never fix shit. Unless the incinerator stops working, Daddy is always right on top of that death trap, which I’m pretty sure is WAY out of code.

I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to this, but if things get much worse, I might have to call my parents for help!

Opinion: Just Because My Instagram Bio Says I’m a “Witch Bitch” Doesn’t Mean I Know Anything About the Occult

Posted on October 29, 2022 by Colleen Nerney

Hi there, friendly reminder to my little coven of followers — just because I’m completely committed to using witchy aesthetics as part of a personal brand doesn’t mean that I actually know fuck-all about this stuff.

I know that may be surprising. I certainly look the part of an Instagram witch and trust me, I’ve spent hours making sure that every post, selfie, and story are meticulously crafted with this image in mind. I need my followers to implicitly be influenced to purchase $42 fluorite towers from my pop-up shop in order to pay the rent, and the best way to do that is go all-out on the whole witch-bitch-girl-boss thing. What I don’t need is incessant comments asking for advice or basic facts about my so-called lifestyle.

People keep DMing me with questions about contemporary witchcraft practices, and I’m like, why would you guys assume I’m some kind of expert? Is it because I’ve carefully curated an online persona in line with currently popular new-age trends, because if so, that’s so lame of you to put me in this position.

I’m just a humble twenty-something queer activist who will do whatever it takes to get my engagement up, not some ancestral practitioner of any kind of occult rituals.

It must be the crystal ball, female mage, and bat emojis in my bio that are driving people to make the outrageous claims that I’m anything resembling a reliable source for Pagans, Wiccans, and whatever the third one of those sects is. Is it not clear enough that my half-assed TikToks of me lighting herb bundles on fire with a heavy vintage filter are nothing more than attention grabs for clout and profit?

I’m not sure what I should be doing to make you understand that I’m in this for the money. I’ve literally made Reels showing you how to do a money spell that I directly stole from someone else’s Reel, and you can buy the kit with all the necessary supplies right in my Etsy shop.

Please, I’m asking nicely. I’m being reasonable. Leave me alone, and by alone I mean don’t ask anything that I can’t instantly answer with either “google it bestie” or “I’m not here to educate you.”

By all means though, keep up the likes and shares, my sisters of darkness! It’s just us humble girls, gays, and theys out here fighting the patriarchy, one monetized video at a time!

Opinion: I Am Vampyr, I Am Forever, and Your Carbon Footprint Affects Me

Posted on October 28, 2022 by Dan Rice

Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man concerned with global warming.

My name is Orlov von Maximoff, a former Romanian count, but you may know me by one of my various pseudonyms. I am Vampyr, I am Nosferatu, I am forever, the undead and the child of the night. Most importantly I am a person (sort of) with a vested interest in what havoc our current carbon emissions could have on this planet in the next two centuries.

I wish I could say my passion for the environment was shared by the vast majority of you, the bipedal cattle whose blood has sustained me for centuries.

Oh sure, you say you’re pro-environment. You drive hybrid cars, you have sad little herb gardens on your windowsill, and some of you have even banned plastic bags in your state like that will do fuck all. But take it from someone who will be alive, or at least walking around and such 200 years from now when the shit starts hitting the climate fan, I can tell your heart just isn’t in it.

These small temperature increases add up over time. Maybe you won’t feel the crunch, but your children probably will, and their children for sure. How will I feast on the sweet nectar of their lifeblood throughout the ages to come if they can’t produce food?

When I forced Al Gore to gaze into the power of my evil eye and forced him to make An Inconvenient Truth, I thought the tide had turned. And sure, it made a splash, but no matter how jarring the message gets human complacency always seems to win out. If you ask me, that’s the real monster. And that’s coming from someone who fucks and eats you, people, by the thousands.

Try to put yourself in my shoes. Imagine a bunch of giant, sentient, stupid Capri-sun pouches were destroying the planet with reckless abandon because their life spans were laughably short. That’s more or less my exact POV.

Don’t I have enough to worry about already? The sun. Garlic. Blade, the day walker. If you meatbags could get your shit together before the earth becomes a lifeless husk, it sure would help ole Orlov mental-health-wise, please and thank you.

Just make one big change and stick to it! Like, stop eating meat! Eat bugs instead, they’re more sustainable. I used to have an employee who ate bugs, and he loved it so much that he literally went insane.

Each week The Hard Times reflects on a classic album from rock history. This week we decided to review Type O Negative’s “The Origin of Feces” because our dad wouldn’t let us listen to it when we were growing up.

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