Kyle Gordon Stanley, Author at HARDTIMES

Poser at Restaurant Wears Shirt of Food They’re Going to Eat

Posted on April 8, 2022 by Cory Cousins

PORTLAND, Ore. — Local man Terry Miller became the target of derision and mockery from patrons at upscale eatery Stem when he showed up wearing a shirt of the dish he planned to eat that night, several repulsed restaurant staff confirmed.

“I’ve been a follower of lobster risotto for years. I’m over the moon that I finally get to eat it in person,” exclaimed Miller. “I can’t tell you how many late nights I spent reading lobster risotto recipes to help me get over a break-up and I’ve been watching YouTube videos of people preparing and eating lob-ris for years. This is a dish I’ve seen on the Food Network so many times that I might get a bit starstruck when the wait staff actually puts it in front of me. Hopefully, I can get the chef to autograph my shirt at the end of the night.”

Stem’s Executive Chef, Marisa Terzoli, was immediately dismayed by Miller’s poor fashion choice.

“I thought my sous chef was playing a silly kitchen prank on me when they first told me. I didn’t think someone would actually be that lame, but there he was, grinning ear to ear doing this weird little dance in his chair while he waited for his food,” recounted an amused and slightly off-put Chef Terzoli. “On one hand, I always appreciate the patronage of my restaurant, but on the other, I mean how fucking lame and desperate is that? C’mon! You show up wearing a shirt with a picture of lobster risotto and ‘#LobsterRisottoLife’ written across your shoulders? Sorry, but this is too cringy for me to discuss any longer.”

Self-proclaimed “Foodie Fashion Critic” and “Pictured Food Curator,” Giselle Ferrara, weighed in on the fashion faux pas.

“Yes, this was indeed a total poser move,” scoffed Ferrara. “A seasoned and refined food fan would have chosen a t-shirt within the same genre of food being prepared at the restaurant, but not the exact food being eaten, of course. Perhaps a sea bass, Coq Au Vin, or foie gras combination would have worked. Or even an ironic T-shirt with a black and white photo of a single crouton would have let the other patrons know that they were serious. Someone needs to say something to him so he stops being an embarrassment to his entire family.”

At press time, Miller was spotted ironing his favorite Chicken Tikka Masala shirt before heading out to a trendy local Indian eatery.

Identity Crisis: Your Favorite Artist Listed Your Most Hated Artist as an Influence

Posted on April 7, 2022 by Ciara Murphy

Your nightmare has become a reality. Your favorite artist just named the band you hate more than anything else in this world as their inspiration. No war, disease, or atrocity is worse than finding out a sucky band is the reason your hero makes music. This conflicting information may have you questioning your musical judgment or even your general sense of self. In severe cases, you may spiral into a full-blown identity crisis. Fortunately, as music snobs, we’re here to lend our expertise in keeping your psyche together after deciding that the band you based your identity around actually sucks.

You have identified as punk since you were a toddler. You’ve been moshing since before you could walk. You eat, sleep, and breathe this shit. But now, your favorite band said their biggest influence is a bunch of pop-punk dorks who dress like they’re still in high school and write songs about girls who are still in high school. It’s normal to feel like everything you understand about life has been a lie. You need immediate self-care. Meditation, self-reflection, and deep breathing can help you to focus on finding a new purpose in life. Also, you might want to start smoking again.

Many people who experience an identity crisis start altering their values to match their environment. You may try to convince yourself that the band you hate isn’t so bad after all. Maybe you just need to give them another try. This might take a few attempts, but don’t get disheartened. The songs you grow to love never stick at first.

We hope our advice will bring you some comfort and support during this time. If not, you can always deny the interview ever existed. Just like you do with their latest three albums.

Cameo Greeting From Michael Shannon Still Haunting Local Man’s Dreams

Posted on April 7, 2022 by Patrick Crooks

YOUNGSTOWN, Ohio. — A Cameo greeting from acclaimed character actor, Michael Shannon, left the recipient of the message Josh Gaither unable to sleep and thoroughly distressed in his day-to-day life, sources close to the former fan reported.

“My friend sent me the Cameo as a birthday gift and I suppose they meant well, but goddamn if that thing hasn’t left me fucked up,” remarked an unshaven, disheveled Gaither. “He did the whole thing in character. First ‘Bug,’ then he shifted over to the guy from ‘Boardwalk Empire,’ and, finally, ‘Revolutionary Road.’ The first few nights I kept waking up screaming and drenched in sweat from the nightmares. One night I could swear he was sitting at the foot of my bed dressed as General Zod. At this point, I would gladly welcome back my own sleep paralysis demons if it meant never having to see the celebrated actor again.”

April Maddox, the friend who sent Gaither the Cameo, seemed unaware of the long-term damage her gift had done.

“I just knew Josh would freak out when he saw this. Everyone loves Michael Shannon,” an upbeat Maddox told reporters. “When I asked how he liked his gift, he said he ‘feels like he’s in a nightmare so dark and tragic that he welcomes the sweet release of death,’ so I guess he must have been pretty excited about it. It’s all he talks about now too. Every time we text it’s ‘Michael Shannon has forever altered his life’ this and ‘the guy from ‘Nocturnal Animals’ is right behind me’ that. So, I think I pretty much nailed this birthday gift.”

Cameo founder Steve Galanis admitted they have received many complaints about Shannon’s videos.

“At first, we thought it was a huge win getting an A-lister like Michael Shannon on our site. It certainly beats the hell out of getting a cameo from the ‘Dude, You’re Getting a Dell’ guy. But right from the start, things with Michael went off the rails,” said Galanis. “First, he requested that he be in charge of all correspondence with the customer. Apparently, after a cameo request is received he replies with an ominous telegram that only says ‘7 days.’ And he insisted that he not be compensated, claiming ‘their reactions is all the payment I need.’”

At press time, an ill-timed Cameo greeting from Willem Dafoe had sent Gaither into a catatonic psychosis.

7 Underrated Minor Star Wars Characters That Deserve Their Own Erotic Series Done By Me

Posted on April 7, 2022 by Nathan Kamal

We are currently living in a golden age of Star Wars spin-offs. If a character has ever appeared in the prequels, sequels, main trilogy, an animated show, or one of George Lucas’s ice cream headaches, they are probably going to get their own Disney+ series at some point.

While this behemoth of a franchise has a lot going for it, there is one thing it doesn’t have: erotic journeys in the lives of minor Star Wars characters through the specific filter of my imagination.

Just to give you an idea of what you are missing, here’s some from my personal, private journals:

Lobot: Remember Lobot, Lando Calrissian’s silent cyborg aide-de-camp in Cloud City? Lobot’s tragic backstory is that he was once Lando’s fellow smuggler and trusted friend, but a near-fatal injury during a daring raid on an Imperial ship caused his cybernetic implants to take over his mind and render him the blank, efficient figure you see in The Empire Strikes Back. But what my six-part Disney+ series will explore is how love can bring back a mind from even the greatest injury. And lots of nudity. Lots.

It’s all incredibly tasteful I assure you, except maybe for the smaller version of that thing on his head that I wrote onto his balls.

Jek Tono Porkins: Come in, Red Six! That’s the seductive words told to Jek Tono Porkins in my script for Porkin’, a sex comedy starring the Rebel Alliance fighter who died in the run on the first Death Star. But before his tragic death, there’s plenty of time for a series that shows the portly, virile Porkins in a series of sexy misunderstandings that inevitably lead him slyly breaking the fourth wall and telling the audience “It’s time to get Porkin’!”

Sy Snootles: There’s no aphrodisiac like talent. That’s why Sy Snootles, the Pa’lowick singer of Max Rebo’s band in “Return of the Jedi,” deserves her very own “The Americans” style spy series in which her profession as an entertainer is revealed to be a cover for her work as a Hutt agent who always gets her information…one way or the other. The other way is sex!

Kit Fisto: Yes obviously this one lends itself to a fairly obvious and unsavory angle, but in my pitch I take the high road and practically avoid the subject of fisting all together! My Fisto is more into using his tentacle hair like a bunch of giant cocks.

Tion Medon: This guy was the weird tall pale alien in Revenge of the Sith who warns Obi-Wan Kenobi that General Grievous is planning on ambushing him, and you just know this guy FUCKS. Slap that hunk on the cover of a Harlequin novel with some Twi’lek babes clutching his legs, and you got yourself an erotic adventure for the ages.

Dr. Cornelius Evazan and Ponda Baba: I’m not going to lie. There’s not a lot of plot in the script treatment I wrote for this one. It’s pretty much just the Walrus guy and the pigface doctor from the Mos Eisley Cantina going to town on each other, in extremely specific, extremely hot detail.

The Exogorth: Loneliness can tame even the greatest beasts. In my notes for an animated show based on the giant asteroid worm that almost eats the Millenium Falcon, the Exogorth has been alone for eons. Pent up, you know. And when its asteroid collides and merges with another carrying another Exogorth, they have to learn to put aside their initial differences and work together. And then it’s on.

It. Is. On.

C’mon, Kathleen Kennedy! Do the fans a solid, for once! At the very least, you know any of these would be better than “Attack of the Clones.”

“I’m a Spooky Boy” Mutters Matt Skiba Repeatedly While Staring At Self In a Cracked Mirror

Posted on April 7, 2022 by James Knapp

LOS ANGELES — Notorious punk rock ghoul Matt Skiba was spotted monotonously saying the phrase “I’m a spooky boy” over and over to his own reflection just before taking the stage at a recent Blink-182 show, confirmed sources hired to act like apparitions in the mirror’s reflection.

“Ever since I started playing in Blink I’ve been feeling more and more like my spook factor hasn’t quite been what it used to be. Mark and Travis never want to talk about the Manson murders and they said if I bring up Anton LaVey one more time they are going to replace me with the dude from Fenix TX,” explained Skiba, surrounded by cobwebs and glassy-eyed Victorian dolls. “It just helps to affirm to myself once in a while that I’m still a spooky little guy and that writing songs about wanting to fuck vampires is the whole reason I’m here in the first place.”

Longtime Alkaline Trio bassist Dan Andriano alleged that Skiba’s routine of self-spookification started long before he was recruited to replace famed ufologist Tom Delonge.

“Yeah, Matt’s been insecure about his spookiness level since about the time ‘Agony & Irony’ came out, and I kinda don’t disagree with him. Man, what the hell were we thinking on that record?” remarked Andriano. “I’ll say this though, he’s toned down his ritual a lot since. It used to be that he would swallow a live tarantula before every show and then fart it out afterward. I’m still not sure why he thought that was spooky, but regardless, it made for some very unpleasant evenings on the tour bus.”

Emo psychologist Caroline Gibbons described how waning spookiness can manifest itself.

“Mr. Skiba appears to be exercising a self-affirmation technique that we psychologists call scare-apy. It allows the individual to build confidence in their internal creepiness, despite the fact that they’re multi-millionaire musicians pushing 50-years-old,,” Gibbons explained. “See, as spook-oriented punks age, they often feel distanced from their spooky origins and need to find a way to funnel that energy. Usually, I recommended they just rewatch a couple of Vincent Price movies but if this Skiba boy has found something that works for him then that’s fine by me.”

At press time, Skiba was found to now also be using the back of his hand to lovingly stroke the cracked mirror, which he calls “Dark Mistress.”

Review: Converge “Bloodmoon: I”

Posted on April 6, 2022 by Krissy Howard

Each week, The Hard Times takes some time out of its busy schedule of eating chips and dropping pretzels to review an album. This week, we’ll take a look at the reason why I’ve been acting so out of control and emotional this week, which happens to be the same name as the album “Bloodmoon: I,” by the genre-bending hardcore legends Converge in collaboration with Chelsea Wolfe.

I like to think of myself as an incredibly rational person with a reasonable head on her shoulders, because it is true, and also because I just like to think of myself as often as possible. So you can imagine my surprise when I attempted to break up with my boyfriend and quit my job and move to Utah three times, just this week. Something must be up, and that thing has to be not in any way related to me or my choices.

As with any problem I’m not willing to take responsibility for, I immediately looked to the stars for my answer. However, as I know nothing about the night sky, and am deathly afraid of becoming exposed to fresh air for any amount of time, I took my search to Google, where I learned we are under the spell of a Blood Moon. Of all the moons, this one is by far the scariest, not only for its name, but because it has its own songs (which are also not very helpful in creating a relaxing environment.) I’m not sure if the names of the symptoms listed here are some old-timey medical jargon back from when they used to nurse babies to sleep with an ear candle filled with heroin, but it looks like a “Scorpion’s Sting” is common during this time, as well as “Tongues Playing Dead,” which is apparently what my boyfriend suffers from any time it’s his turn to “dirty the sheets,” if you will.

Excuse me? What do you mean, “what day is it?” And furthermore, what else do you mean by “the potpourri that’s out at my mom’s house isn’t super dry gum?”

If you’re asking me whether the reason why I’ve been crying whenever I pass a calendar with dogs on it and have also been really craving both sweet and salty snacks might be the same reason I’ve cried when I pass dog calendars and crave sweet and salty snacks once a month for the last 24 years, then all I have to say to that is how fucking dare you? What are you, a fucking doctor or something? Men are trash.

I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this. Will you pick up some Milk Duds if you’re going to the store?

SCORE: ZERO out of however many stars for its lack of conclusive information and also for making my boobs weirdly sore for no reason.

/**/

Man Goes to Astounding Lengths to Find Family History of Parkinson’s Rather Than Admitting He Going Through Alcohol Withdrawal

Posted on April 6, 2022 by Patrick Crooks

BOSTON — Friends and relatives of local resident, Brian Gibbs, have reported that the 28-year-old has insisted for years that his frequent tremors are due to a family history of Parkinson’s as opposed to a case of DTs.

“Brian likes to hit the sauce pretty hard, we all do, but the guy doesn’t seem to want to admit the obvious to himself,” noted long-time friend, Adam Rooney. “He said his great-grandmother on his mom’s side had it, but one time I made a joke about him having the shakes he got really defensive and said his doctor told him he had a 40 percent chance of developing Parkinson’s and started tearing through his desk claiming he had it in writing. I told him to chill. It was just a joke, but he got really quiet for a while and then out of nowhere he just said he wasn’t alcoholic.”

“Kind of put a damper on my birthday party,” Rooney added.

Gibbs confirmed aspects of the story but questioned Rooney’s narrative.

“Sorry about spilling on you, too much caffeine gets me jittery,” said a violently shaking Gibbs while attempting to bring a coffee cup to his lips. “I don’t know what Adam’s trying to imply. I told him, and everyone else for that matter, that I have a family history. I showed them my 23andMe and it said people with ancestry from the Dungannon region of Ireland are more likely to have Parkinson’s, which accounts for three percent of my DNA. So I don’t know where everyone is coming from with all that ‘we’re not judging you but have you ever considered you drink too much?’ bullshit.”

Experts on the subject weighed in saying the stigma placed on addiction has led to an increase in finding any possible ailments similar to alcohol withdrawal.

“I’ve heard just about every single excuse in the books these booze heads will come up with,” stated Dr. John Freeney of Sloan-Kettering. “Sometimes it’s they mixed their medication or they didn’t really eat much that day, but, at the end of the day, they just hit the bottle pretty fucking hard and their bodies are now reacting to having a regular cycle of alcohol in them. Unlike me, for example, I’m just getting older and can’t really hold my liquor like I used to, which likely comes from my mom’s side.”

At press time, Gibbs was asking for Excedrin for the “killer migraine” he “weirdly” woke up with.

5 Life Events I Ruined By Following Instructions In A Dance Song

Posted on April 6, 2022 by Nathan Kamal

Everyone makes mistakes, and I am no exception. I have made mistakes in love, I have made mistakes with alcohol, I have made poor investment decisions involving an alpaca farm. But the things that weigh the heaviest on my conscience are the important events in life that I have utterly ruined because a dance song told me to do something, and I did it.

Let me tell you of the memories I tarnished through instructional song:

Cha Cha Slide: When I was in college, studying for a criminology degree that I had hoped would be the first step to becoming a Batman, my roommate was a guy named Rob. Rob was a good guy, a straight-shooter who worked hard and was the first in his family to go to college. Flash-forward to his graduation ceremony, when I thought it would be a good idea to do what DJ Casper told us in “Cha Cha Slide” as we received our degrees.

As I slid to the left on stage, then slid to the right, and prepared to criss-cross, I slid right into Rob and slid him right off the elevated platform. It took him five years of therapy to walk again.

Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae): Everything was going relatively fine, until it got to the point where the song repeatedly tells you to “do the stanky leg.” I did what I assumed was the stanky leg, and not what the police later referred to as “a physical demonstration of hate speech.” I was just trying to get into the spirit of quinceanera!

Do The Bartman: I just want to say this: the song says “Do the Bartman.” I did The Bartman. It’s not my fault that the funeral procession for the mayor was watching me move my body like I had the notion, front to back in a rock-like motion as I listened to The Simpsons Sing the Blues on a boombox in my backyard.

Boot Scootin’ Boogy: When I wandered into a Ramada Inn Banquet Hall, lured by the scent of all-beef pigs in a blanket, I did what any sensible person would do. I went heel, toe, docie do, and then shouted “come on baby, let’s go boot scootin’” at the top of my lungs. Sorry to ruin your birthday, Tad, but if you don’t want people having a good time, don’t crank Brooks & Dunn.

The Hokey Pokey: I’ll spare you the bulk of the details on this one, but let’s just say when you’ve just purchased a winning lottery ticket and stuffed it in your sock for safe-keeping, then your sister insists that you have to go to your dumb nephew’s first communion, even though the ticket is practically burning a hole in your ankle while Father Patrick takes his goddamn time with the Holy Eucharist, and then you’re told there’s a celebratory breakfast and you have to do it on account of what you did at your nephew’s baptism, and then the kids do The Hokey Pokey and you get dragged into, and it actually was kind of fun to stick your foot in and shake it all about, until you shake it too hard and then ticket gets loose, and then it sticks to the bottom of a passing waiter’s shoe and you chase after him, knocking children everywhere in your panic, and you tackle the waiter, but it turns out he played some football in college and he takes you down a peg, and then you wind up in jail and no one believes that you ever won the lottery at all, it sucks!

Bag of Baby Spinach in Punk House Fridge Slowly Realizes It’s Going to Fucking Die in Here

Posted on April 6, 2022 by Colleen Nerney

BUFFALO, N.Y. — A bag of baby spinach sitting untouched in a local fridge is currently coming to the inevitable conclusion that it will die in this Godforsaken place, other produce sources confirm.

“It just chewed away at me, little by little,” the completely full sixteen-ounce bag of spinach said. “It’s been two weeks since I got put in here, and I keep getting pushed further and further towards the back. The microwave vegan shit and the Chinese leftovers were eaten almost immediately, which is typical, but I genuinely didn’t think I would be in here for half a month without so much as a glance. I’m just coming to grips with the fact that the smoothie I was intended for just isn’t going to happen. This unopened carton of almond milk is proof of that.”

A nearly empty 12-pack of La Croix offered some insight into the clear pattern in the world of the refrigerator.

“I’ve seen this a thousand times before, poor guy,” the Pamplemousse La Croix said, taking a long drag of a cigarette. “They never think it’s going to happen to them. And then boom, it’s been over a week, and they’re decaying in their bags, totally unopened. I’m just glad that me and the 30-rack of PBR are safe bets. The guy that does the shopping couldn’t live without us, man.”

Onyx Barrington, the 30-year-old punk owner of the fridge, was insistent that he is turning over a new leaf.

“Look, I’m going to eat the fucking spinach, okay?” Barrington said, seemingly agitated. “Everyone is acting like this is gonna be another week of frozen Gardein chick’n fingers and spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar, but I’m not messing around anymore. This is the time that I finally get my diet on track. I just turned 30, for fuck’s sake. I can’t keep eating like total shit like every other aging vegan I know, who survives off Oreos and the max dose of Adderall. I have a plan for the spinach, and will implement it as soon as I start working out next week.”

The spinach declined to comment further, apparently having had a panic attack after seeing the moldy corpse of a clamshell box of spring mix that had fallen behind the crisper drawers.

If I Can Dedicate 8 Years to a Powerviolence Band I Can Be a Faithful Husband to Your Daughter

Posted on April 5, 2022 by Yancy Lee Crawford

I know I’m not what you expected in a future son-in-law, but your daughter is marrying a guy with the kind of experiences you can only get on a six-week tour with “Despise You.” I admit we’ve had our differences in the past. You regularly call me “Spaz” with only one “z” when you know damn well my name is “Spazz.” And there was the time I called you a nazi because you didn’t have oat milk. But we can move past these indiscretions because we’re united by our common love of your daughter.

I know you’re worried about a lot of things when it comes to me and your daughter getting hitched. Where are we going to live? How am I going to make money? All valid concerns! But the last thing you should be worried about is my ability to commit. Hell, if I can dedicate 8 years to a powerviolence band, being a faithful husband to your daughter should be a piece of cake.

Stop laughing.

While performing ten minute, twenty-song sets to dozens of people at a time, I learned a lot about sticking to your guns. And that’s exactly why I’m faithful. Trust me, a guy that can resist the tens of women he meets playing shows at shitty bars and VFWs filled with confused townies is in it for the long haul.

Even better than my virtuous monogamy is my ability to provide. After almost a decade in “One Girl, 56 Dogs” I’ve learned that when you’re broke there’s always free ketchup at 7-11. No, seriously! They don’t regulate how many packets you take. Even if you don’t buy anything! As a husband, I’ll be sure there’s always food on the table.

I also know the only two ways to cure a hangover. You can start drinking when you wake up and go on a three-day bender that ends when you go back to work at 7-11 on Monday morning. Or you can absolutely never drink any amount of alcohol in your life. What other guy knows this stuff? You think some dork working in finance and running weekend 5ks while listening to Ed Sheeran knows how to stay sober while helping a 6’4” bass player bong Franzia so his head doesn’t hurt?

I know you want the best for Jamie but our life will be a raging seven-inch split until the environment collapses, fascism envelops the globe, or she realizes I regularly smell like onions. Whichever comes first.

Stay Updated on The Latest Punk News