Asshole Driver Somehow Also Asshole Pedestrian

Posted on by Lauren Sewell

OMAHA, Neb. — Local personal trainer Chance “Hard Knock” Turner has been seen tearing across town in defiance of myriad traffic laws, solidifying his reputation as not only the worst driver but also the worst pedestrian in Omaha.

“I was picking up my kid at school and I see this dude in an orange Toyota FJ Cruiser pushing 50 in the school zone and blasting the Red Hot Chili Peppers,” Omaha resident Angie Franklin recounts. “A few minutes later, I run into that same douchebag cutting me off for a spot in the Home Depot parking lot, and he proceeds to take up two spots with his oaf car. Then I see him cross the busy street without looking up from his goddamn phone, and when he almost got hit, he screamed ‘I have the right of way, bitch!’ at the driver.”

Four other witnesses corroborated Franklin’s account, including the asshole-in-question himself.

“People can scream, flip me off, tell me I listen to shitty music, or toot their fucking horn, but I don’t apologize to anyone,” Turner explained, while aggressively pushing a crosswalk button. “ If you step in front of my car, I’m gonna hit your ass, and you hit me with your car, I’m gonna sue your ass. What’s the problem here?”

University of Nebraska Psychology Professor Ivan Cortes commented on the rise of this confounding behavior.

“The official term for this behavioral syndrome is Vehicular-Bipedal Narcissism,” Cortes shares. “Nationally, we have seen reports of this phenomenon for many years, but there has been a dramatic spike of diagnoses in the last decade, curiously aligning with the popularity of The Joe Rogan Experience. When timed incorrectly, any driver or pedestrian can find themselves on the wrong end of these people, and God have mercy on the poor souls who find themselves on a bicycle around them. I just hope they’re wearing helmets, and have a Valium prescription or something at home.”

At press time, Turner was seen harassing a salesman at a local electric skateboard dealership.

We Asked Preschoolers To Draw God and Now We’re Afraid to Sleep

Posted on by Neel Bhakta

Look, we honestly thought this would be a great idea. Oh, just have some adorable little preschoolers draw what they think God looks like. It’s a cute idea! We fucked up and now we can’t blink without our heart rates spiking.

Monstrous, repulsive, vile, damnable, abominable, abhorrent, heinous, accursed, lamentable. None of these words will be able to accurately portray the horrors we witnessed on that day.

We know what you’re thinking. “How bad could it even be?” you ask, completely unaware of the demons these children house within their souls. It’s fucking bad man. In fact after a long editorial debate we have opted not to show you.

The images have already seared themselves into the deepest depths of our brains. There was a little girl named Samantha, who kindly offered to sell us some Thin Mints when we visited. She was the first to finish her drawing and she handed it over with an innocuous smile.

The ink still looked wet, almost as if the paper was crying due to the inhumanity it had been subjected to. Or maybe the page was bleeding black. A faint outline of a face could be seen staring back at you within that darkness. A face best described as half Uruk-hai, half Cannibal Corpse album cover, with a hint of one of those deep sea fishes that have light-bulbs on them.

Terrifying, right? And that was just the first drawing. It only got worse as more demonic children finished. Other nightmare-inducing drawings included:

A reptilian grizzly bear with rotting bones for appendages
Woman with thousands of oddly shaped holes on her melting face
Steven Tyler

These mere descriptions cannot convey the horror of the pages in front of your face. Even if we wanted to show you, we couldn’t. Mr. Zimmer, the school janitor, heard our visceral screams of torment and bravely threw the children’s satanic artifacts into fire. The kids started crying in unison, almost chant-like. Then one of the boys, Malachi, started pontificating a bunch about being “The bringer of his law” or some shit and we got the fuck out of there. Now you can’t even find that town on google maps, and that’s for the best. Just, let them have it. Forget about all of this. Trust us.

Punk Band Called “The Baby Hitlers” Disappear Into Thin Air Mid-Set

Posted on by Colleen Nerney

BALTIMORE, Md. — Local showgoers were shocked and dismayed after witnessing punk band, The Baby Hitlers, vanish completely during their performance moments ago, according to sources.

“It was fucking crazy. One minute, we were all just in the pit at the Baby Hitlers show, right? And then bang, there was a puff of smoke, and everyone’s instruments just dropped right to the floor,” recalled eyewitness and scene veteran Bianca “Bone” Radsmith. “When we could finally see what had happened…they were just gone, dude. Straight up disappeared. At first I thought it was some sort of like, bit, like a super impressive trap door or some shit. But then it was just quiet for a really long time. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The Baby Hitlers merch guy, Martin “Merchlord” LiBrutto, was similarly astonished at the band’s sudden evaporation.

“These are my friends we’re talking about, and they’re just fucking—gone,” LiBrutto said, while somberly stroking a $20 enamel pin outside of his car. “I’ve always been worried that we’d get canceled on Twitter or some shit for our name, but…never something like this, man. Never something like this. I never thought that rapture shit was for real, but now that I saw that I think I might join my mamaw on Wednesday nights like she’s been hounding me to for the last 15 years.”

Additional audience members offered their own unique insight into the situation.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but this is clearly the work of a rookie time traveler,” the suavely-dressed source said, preferring to remain anonymous. “I’ve seen this literally a thousand times. ‘I’ll go back and kill baby Hitler’ or whatever. They should know by now it never fucking works. But whoever did this is obviously a total noob—being explicitly careful about the details is pretty much 99% of the job, but you can’t go taking everything so literally. Excuse me.”

The source then weaved through the crowd, making their way backstage to offer a warning to the headlining band, The Stalinistas.

Review: Eichlers “My Checkered Future”

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

Eichlers is pioneering a new genre dubbed “HYPERSKA”; an infectiously catchy mix of electronic melodies and “My Checkered Future” is the first album from the man behind it all, “Billy on the Street” star, Billy Eichler.

The first time I saw “Billy on the Street” I knew I had found my televisionic match. Seeing a tall, gay man terrorizing various jaded, nervous, and often hostile New Yorkers while they go about their day turned out to be the exact kink I didn’t know I had, and hot damn was I (and my vibrator) glad to find it. You can only imagine my excitement when I heard that Billy Eichler was coming out with not only an album, but a ska album at that.

Much like the show, the album is upbeat and makes you feel kind of anxious in the way that only weaving through hundreds of slow-ass people on a busy sidewalk while screaming about Cuba Gooding, Jr. could. The lyrics may be dark at times, but that’s just what happens on improvisational TV, baby! Sometimes all it takes is being asked, on the spot, to name five women, you are definitely the piece of shit you sometimes worry you might be when attempting to fit a normal size spoon into that weirdly narrow opening on a jar of hot fudge at 2 a.m.

While the album is an overall great listen, we are a bit disappointed that it didn’t stop midday to ask us if we’d tickle Penelope Cruz’s personal driver for a dollar, and at no point were we Quizzed in the Face, not even on that little paper insert that comes with the album. Plus, Elena never showed up once, and you’d think she would at least be featured on one song considering how much everyone loves her. I guess sometimes people really do forget their friends on their way to the top.

SCORE: 5/5 win, lose, or draws in Washington Square Park because God help us if we can’t get this show back on Fuse.

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Covert Listening Device? Zoom Says I Have a Poor Connection With My Father

Posted on by Max Barth

I’m extremely freaked out. I’m not normally a big conspiracy guy, but I was on a Zoom call with my dad this afternoon and a window popped up to warn me that we were “unable to connect.” No shit, zoom! We haven’t hugged in years.

Excuse me but when the fuck did I give Big Brother the right to evaluate my relationship with my dad? It’s none of their business whether we connect or not because, first off, we have a complicated relationship. Also, avoiding politics, discussions of culture, and people in general is the best thing we’ve done for our relationship. Ok, Mr. Zuckerberg? Ok, Mr. Musk? Is that good enough for you? Is that what you fucking want to hear?

It’s basically “Cat’s in the Cradle” over here with the old man. I don’t need Big Tech to tell me that. Especially when I didn’t even pay for the good version of Zoom.

I don’t go into Zuck’s phone and read his texts and say he’s not connecting with his wife even though obviously the dude has never connected with anyone on earth, which explains his success in a psycho kind of way. Frankly, this whole experience has me looking over my shoulder.

My wife and I just got one of those Alexa things and I shudder to think what Amazon thinks about our sex life. We’re probably on some spreadsheet somewhere. Bezos, no doubt, is about to send me a fucking unsolicited email with a list of my favorite positions and a graph depicting how many times I pull a muscle during each one. Well, no thanks, Jeff! We already talked about it! I’VE BEEN STRETCHING!

Punk Stock Trader Jumps Out of Van Window

Posted on by Ashley Naftule

CHARLOTTE N.C. — 35-year-old punk stock trader “Big” Tim Treadwell jumped out of a speeding van’s window yesterday after receiving bad news about his portfolio following more stock market volatility, confirmed sources close to the situation.

“All five of his flip phones lit up as soon as we loaded up our gear after playing a basement show,” said bandmate and van driver “Bubonic” Bob Bubowski, a 15-year veteran of Charlotte’s D.I.Y. investing culture. “We were riding high earlier in the night. We played the show and then he spent the next 30 minutes giving a seminar on blue chip stocks and the place was popping — I’ve never seen people go so hard for investment tips. But as we all know, the stock market is unpredictable, and less than an hour later Tim was virtually bankrupt.”

Treadwell, renowned for his aggressive trading, lost a total of $27.50 from the market’s latest collapse, which ultimately led to his untimely death.

“I could see him doing the math in his head and all the blood draining from his face — the news that he lost 90% of his net worth in one day broke Big Tim’s spirits real bad,” said merch guy, Bam “Money-Money” McCormick. “Next thing you know, he’s diving like Michael Phelps straight out the van window while we’re doing 90 on the I-277. It’s a real shame… we didn’t get it on video or anything.”

While Treadwell’s sudden passing comes as a great shock to the community, financial experts across the country confirm that D.I.Y. stock trader suicides are on the rise.

“Punk traders are dropping faster than rapper mixtapes,” said independent financial scene analyst Molly Briggs. “Yesterday I got a report that a trader in Tucson found out he lost his shirt on the Exchange, so he drank 50 Monster Energy drinks in a row, hopped on his father’s Peloton, and let nature take its course. They’re still scraping his goo off the ceiling fan.”

Unmarried and without children, Treadwell leaves behind a body of work that includes six zines on fiscal responsibility, a pristine 1997 Toyota Corolla, and a spoken word tape on why only poseurs buy bonds.

Wow! We Showed a CD to This Gen Z-er and She Ate It Like a Donut

Posted on by Jessica Lillian

We recently sat down with Hannah, a local college student, and handed her a copy of Alanis Morissette’s “Jagged Little Pill” to see if she could figure out how to play the CD in our dusty old 1998 Sony mini boombox. Hannah, 18, managed to open the jewel case on her first try so we figured she was off to a great start. We were all set to make her an honorary Millennial and breathe a sigh of relief that maybe we weren’t so old after all when things took a turn. Gripping the CD in both hands, she raised it to her mouth and took a giant bite. And then another. And another.

We could only watch in silent horror as the CD was fully consumed. We prayed she would pause for a selfie or to do a dance for TikTok or something, but her jaw proved tireless and her appetite for iridescent plastic insatiable. Watch out, world! Gen Z is here and, in addition to cultural narcissism, they also appear equipped with the teeth of a shark and the stomach acid of a dog.

“I mean, with the light shining on it making those little rainbows, it just kinda looked like striped Funfetti frosting,” Hannah said, shrugging and crunching the last few pieces of the circular plastic disc encoded with 12 iconic songs (and one remix) between her teeth. “It had a hole in the middle. That’s literally a donut.”

As she wiped a few stray silver shards from around her mouth, we rushed to move the boombox out of sight before she mistook it for a large loaf of pumpernickel bread.

Sunn O))) Breaks Up Due to Creative Differences of Whether to Play D-Flat or B-Flat for 10 Minutes

Posted on by John Danek

SEATTLE – Legendary drone metal duo Sunn O))) announced they are disbanding following a dispute over whether their next 10-minute dirge should be on a D-flat or a B-flat, sources close to the band reported.

“For years, I’ve been saying that we need to innovate lest we stagnate and rust, but I guess bashing on a B-flat is too much of an artistic shift for Stephen (O’ Malley),” reported Greg Anderson, who is known as the radical visionary of the group according to insiders. “It’s a shame that we weren’t able to compromise. It’s not like I was asking for some two-tone ska riffs thrown in there, I still wanted to have one note drone out for eternity. We built a lot of music based around hammering a D-flat for minutes, hours at a time. Hell, three of our albums consist of one D-flat and then an hour of resulting feedback. I’m proud of it! But I also need a change.”

O’Malley, Sunn O)))’s other member, offered a different philosophy on where the band’s trajectory should have gone.

“I refuse to chase trends like playing B-flats; we built this band on a pure mission and I will not deviate from it,” retorted O’Malley, who almost quit the band in the early days in a dispute over whether it should be a capital O or a zero in the band’s name. “If Sunn O))) can’t stick to its identity, then what does it even mean to be in a band? Whatever, I wish Greg luck on his new hyperpop/trap project, or whatever the hell music they use B-flats in. I won’t be caught dead listening to it though.”

Music historians offered some classic examples as to why groups fall apart despite attaining the unlikeliest of successes.

“The Beatles were the singularly most popular music act of all time, and they didn’t even last a decade — but this Sunn O))) business makes no sense,” admitted Sandra Yonkers, author of “Why Bands Break Up: Drugs, Sex, and Egos.” “Sunn O))) makes some of the least accessible music to ever find an audience, so to think that the members are so principled about the creation of it that they will throw it all away is wild, and quite frankly, extremely stupid.”

In related news, grindcore staple Napalm Death are reportedly on the rocks as some band members suggested writing a song under 240bpm.

Photo by Antti T. Nissinen.

Man Distracted by Fact Sex Doll He Ordered Looks a Bit Like Iggy Pop

Posted on by Chris Bowen

BROOKLYN, N.Y. — Local man Allen McGuire noticed late yesterday afternoon that the sex doll he ordered online beared a striking resemblance to rock n’ roll icon Iggy Pop, sources close to him say.

“When the doll arrived and I took it out of the box, I couldn’t help but notice its stringy long hair and the almost leather-like material its skinny body is made of,” McGuire explained in a disappointed tone. “And now whenever I get some ‘alone time,’ I can’t really get much enjoyment from it. All I can picture is Iggy Pop and his weird little dance moves, and it’s a complete and utter turnoff. I’ve told my therapist about it, and she thinks it’s some repressive sexual thing I have going on, but I really think it’s just the fact that this thing looks like it could sing for the Stooges or maybe be friends with Jim Jarmusch.”

Dennis Mendoza, a salesman at the manufacturer of the sex doll, used his 10+ years of experience to weigh in on the incident.

“Well, you get what you pay for,” Mendoza said as he was pushing a crate on a dolly. “I believe here at Pleasure Palace we are the gold standard in fuck dolls, but nothing is perfect. If you want to spend the bare minimum on a car, you’re not going to get the sunroof, the backup cameras, all the good stuff. Just like if you want to pinch pennies on a sex doll, you’re not going to get a knockout. You might get an emaciated dried up five-foot piece of beef jerky. Complaints have been pretty high lately, but with supply chain issues, people are lucky they can get anything to fuck from us at all.”

McGuire’s roommate, Arthur Woo, explained how he’s had to cope with the sex doll hanging around the apartment.

“When I came home from work the first time and saw that thing laying on the couch, I thought Allen had brought out a Halloween decoration early or something,” Woo said. “I had no idea he bought that thing with the intentions of having sex with it. It’s horrifying. I’m not sure the right time to confront him about leaving it out all the time, and I’m afraid he’ll say he has a mummy fetish or something. Maybe I’ll just find a new place.”

It was noted at time of press that McGuire was seen stuffing a rolled up carpet with what looked like dried corn stalks on one end into the trunk of his car.

Boyfriend Plans Romantic Evening Out At Friend Brett’s House

Posted on by Sarah Cassell

RENO, Nev. — Local boyfriend Zach Dornan planned a romantic evening out for him and his girlfriend Lizzie Hart at his friend Brett Baum’s house, sources who have a bad feeling report.

“My girl said she felt we needed more time together to reconnect or ‘get our relationship back on track’ or some shit, so I thought, what better way to get away from it all than a hang at Brett’s place?” Dornan explained. “It’s literally peak romance and fun. We watch YouTube videos on Brett’s computer, and he has this dog that’s like 15 years old that smells and bites anyone that’s not Brett, it’s so funny. And because tonight’s a special night, I may even splurge on a pizza. You can’t get the spark back on an empty stomach, and Noble’s got a wings special right now, so it feels kind of meant to be.”

Hart, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as happy with the decision from her boyfriend.

“Our relationship is on thin ice ever since be ruined my parent’s mailbox again, so I asked him if we could go to a restaurant, or to a movie to kind of get some quality time together,” Hart said, “But when I asked what we were doing tonight, he said he ‘had something extra special planned,’ which I quickly realized was just hanging out in the partially-finished basement of his friend’s house for the sixth weekend in a row.

Dornan’s ex-girlfriend Melissa Lopez confirmed that spending time at her ex-boyfriend’s friend’s step-dad’s house was a common occurrence.

“It happened every time I asked for a nice night out. The curtains were old Seaworld towels, and we’d always just sit on this old futon while someone raced hamsters in the other room and Brett played darts in the corner,” said Lopez. “I guess one time he threw an old sheet over the one lamp to make it romantic, but it just felt like too little, too late. So glad I dumped him, came out of the closet, and am now with a wonderful girlfriend who paints flower vases with me.”

At press time, Hart was found calling an Uber home after her boyfriend got too drunk and passed out on Brett’s couch.