“Gentle White Noise Sleep Sounds (5 Hours)” Named Woman’s Top Spotify Song of the Year

Posted on by V.F. Thompson

KALAMAZOO, Mich. — Local punk Abigail Burton was forced to confront the ways her listening habits reflect her deeply pathetic personal life after a white noise sound topped her 2021 Top Song in Spotify.

“I listened to a lot of music this year while I was commuting, and also just hanging out around the house,” Burton said, visibly perturbed. “So seeing that the white noise I use to just zone out and stare into space when things start to get too heavy outweighed all of that just kind of puts things in perspective about what the hell I’m even doing. Is this my life?”

Burton’s friends, who were eagerly sharing their own statistics, seemed worried at Burton’s reluctance to put her own results out there.

“It just makes you wonder what she’s hiding, you know?” said friend Charlene Cook. “If I’m willing to let the world know that Machine Gun Kelly was in my top five this year, then what kind of dark shit doesn’t she want the rest of us to know? I know it sounds cynical, but if you don’t have anything to be ashamed of, then why aren’t you just coming clean? It makes me nervous that her top podcast was Cum Town or something.”

When asked what she might do differently next year to avoid a crisis like this, Burton seemed nervous but hopeful.

“As soon as I saw my list, I went online and bought a white noise machine,” Burton said. “That way, I can get the benefits without having any recorded proof of it, and won’t be faced with the fact that this is just apparently the way my brain works now and what I need to function. It just sucks, because you want to hop on and join in and share with everyone else, but there’s just no way in hell I’m putting myself out there like that. All I can do is just try to hide my habits so this doesn’t happen again, because I’m not willing or able to change them.”

According to sources, other songs in Burton’s top five included “Deep Healing Energy 528Hz Ancient Frequency for Healing, and a guided meditation for children laid over soothing ocean noises.

We Rank Class Clowns by How Soon They Died After Graduation

Posted on by Dan Luberto

Like teachers, homework, and textbooks from the 70s, class clowns are a pillar of the American high school experience that transcends time and place. They added much-needed laughter to an otherwise mind-numbing and soul-crushing institution. Man, class clowns were the best. May they rest in peace.

A great class clown can create incredible memories for their peers through the silly antics they engaged in. They gave us memories to hold onto long after we move away from our hometowns and grow into fully functioning adults. It’s good they leave such a legacy so young since they don’t tend to last that long after graduation. Anyway, we decided to rank the best class clowns by how quickly they died after high school.

The Baker Twins
Remember the Baker Boys? Or as the teachers called them, “Double Trouble?” Man, they were funny! They had the house with the pond and let seven frogs loose in the teacher’s lounge in 8th grade. Hilarious! Too bad they both drowned the night they graduated while drunkenly stumbling into the very pond they caught those frogs in at their grad party. Good times!

Sammy Martin
Sammy was a teacher-distracter extraordinaire. One day he replaced all the lyrics to the Pledge of Allegiance with “Poopy Diarrhea.” Fucking legend. He died during Welcome Week at college trying to do a backflip off of the Delta Psi house.

Jacob King
The King! Who could forget the king? Of all the class clowns he really grew over the years and came into his own. When he first brought that whoopee cushion in third grade we thought he was a one-trick pony but boy were we wrong! He made fart sounds for the next nine years at Franklin High. Always innovating. Man, when he made the class think that the girl who got cut from the cheerleading squad got cut because she farted on the human pyramid… pure gold! Too bad he died the day before Thanksgiving freshman year of college. That was a fun night until he died!

Ricky Garbin
Ricky the Rocket! I’m not sure if he was “funny” so to speak, but do you remember how many times he tried to run away from school? Seeing him get up from his desk and bolt out of the room was the best! Usually someone caught him but on rare days when he made it outside, the cops came and principal Levesque had to chase after him and get all sweaty. That was funny. Too bad he died during spring break freshman year. Ricky may have been able to outrun the cops back in the day but that did not prepare him for jumping in that zoo’s tiger exhibit.

Dave Williams
Remember Dave? He always toed the line between being hilarious and kind of scary. Maybe it was an attention thing? Who knows! No one could make a teacher cry like Dave. He was funny too! He did the best Stewie impression. It made him way less scary on his bad days when he would flip desks and stuff. He actually almost didn’t make the list since he was still alive but luckily as I was writing this, one of the moms of one of his kids posted a GoFundMe link for his medical bills and it’s not looking good. So here’s to you,Dave! See you at the funeral!

Freelance Writer Attributes Financial Success to Dishwashing Job

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

BOSTON — Local freelance writer Brittany Gates credits her financial success as a freelance writer to the full-time day job that she doesn’t tell anybody about, close friends and general managers confirmed.

“Really, the secret to my apparent success is just lying through my teeth whenever I get the chance,” Gates said, as she hosed tray after tray at a cafe that she asked us not to disclose. “I get paid by the job with the writing stuff for sure, but if I want to eat or pay my bills I have to get creative. Scrubbing dishes is a sweet gig because when the trays come back there are french fries, or a completely uneaten half of a grilled cheese that sometimes has pesto or even bacon on it. One time somebody made a curbside order for ribs, and they didn’t even pick it up!”

Tom Perez, Gate’s general manager, has nothing but good things to say about her work ethic and positive attitude.

“The girl’s a machine,” said Peterson. “I once saw her write marketing content for a Finland-based travel agency on her phone while simultaneously polishing all of the stainless steel and changing the mop water for the next shift. The kid doesn’t quit. She really wants people to know that she didn’t waste four years of her life and $80,000 to write copy about hyaluronic acid for 10 cents a word on her way to and from bathroom breaks.”

Timothy Mock, a former English professor weighs in on Gate’s vocational choices.

“Some might see this whole exchange as an admirable combination of drudgery and moonlighting, but it’s really so much more than that — the industry of higher education has created a very bitter and verbose individual who will pick up underpaying jobs because they’re tits deep in debt, and in doing so, will likely never finish that novel they’ve been working on for six years,” Mock stated. “I wouldn’t co-sign her car loan, that’s for sure. All you can do is root for the kid, hope that she keeps washing dishes, and doesn’t end up stacking boxes at Amazon.”

At press time, Gates was seen FaceTiming with a potential client while choking back tears as she looked at her own sink full of dirty dishes.

Oh, You’re Bisexual? Tell Us Three Women You Hooked up With, and Please Share Every Detail

Posted on by Dianne Nora

Oh, you’re bisexual, huh? Sorry, I’m not buying it. You’re probably just in denial or saying that to get guys like me intrigued. Well, joke’s on you, because I don’t fall for that shit. If you’re really attracted to people of your gender and people of other genders, tell me three women you’ve hooked up with. And please, don’t be afraid to go into every detail of those encounters.

Really, if you’re so bisexual, I would love to hear about a time when you and a female acquaintance had a few too many drinks and maybe started undressing each other, innocent at first, perhaps it started as a joke, but then you were kissing and things escalated from there…or something. I don’t know. You’re the one who’s bi. Allegedly.

What, do my questions offend you? Are you saying that just because you’ve mentioned your sexual orientation, that doesn’t mean you want to share personal details of your sexual history with me? What’s that about? Sounds like poser talk to me!

I don’t even need to hear what you all did together, unless sharing specifics about your preferred positions would make you feel better. You’re a bottom, right? Submissive? I’m just making an informed guess, based on your makeup, and my expertise on bi chicks from what I’ve read. I read a lot. And I’ve seen some videos online.

But, hey, if you wanted to tell me about what the woman who you most recently had sex with looked like, such as her body type or ethnicity or even just a few words about her feet? I think a real bisexual would definitely have that info.

I’m actually an ally to the queer community, which is why I’m asking you this in the first place. There’s nothing worse than posers trying to invade queer spaces, or mislead lesbians looking for love, or partnership, or even just a good time one night. Maybe in a pool or a hot tub. When I think of what you’re doing to those poor lesbians, maybe with a loofah, or some sort of toy, I feel sick, and sweaty a little, and I need some time to myself, so please don’t come over here for several minutes.

Is scissoring a real thing? I mean, obviously, I know, I just want to make sure you know. And if you’ve done it, and with who, and what they looked like or if you have pics or whatever.

Fine, I can tell you don’t want to tell me. I can just watch. Please?

Punk House Lists Asbestos-related Mesothelioma Payouts as Perk of Renting Room

Posted on by Brandon Morland

OAKLAND, Calif. — Local punk Lenny Hanna is reportedly attempting to rent out a room in his flop-house by telling tenants they may eventually be entitled to payouts from lawsuits advertised on TV, weary sources confirmed.

“It’s an awesome side hustle, I used to give plasma but this is a lot easier,” said Hanna, who proudly showed off hundreds of lead paint chips on the windowsills. “I get about $60 a month until the day I die because this used to be public housing and the city never helped remove all the asbestos insulation. I get winded when I walk up the stairs, and I can’t talk for more than five minutes, but it’s free money, baby. We’ve got around eight people living here at the moment but some aren’t looking too good so it’s a great opportunity for the right guy. My friend rented a room over in the Tenderloin and he got hepatitis. No money. Here though, we have plenty of asbestos and cash to spare!”

Some renters were curious about the potential room and extra cash.

“Yeah, I’m really considering it. Most of the rooms I’m finding have been out of my price range,” said potential renter Matt Alvarez. “This one is really cheap and has a really nice ‘Scarface’ poster, but the whole cancer part is bumming me out. My other option for the price in this area is a futon in some guy’s kitchen. I’ve been a smoker since I was 13 so I’m well on my way to cancer anyway. This place has a big room, it’s pretty close to BART, they are open to any animals living there. I probably shouldn’t pass this up, free mesothelioma money is something I could really use to get my tape distro up and running.”

Real estate agent Lydia Simpson has concerns about the listing.

“I understand the draw. This is a tough time for renters and property owners. You have to gain an edge somehow,” said Simpson. “Some owners offer a two-bedroom when it’s only one and a cot in a closet. I mean, we even listed one of our properties as having central air but it’s really just a hole in the middle of the ceiling. Medical stuff though, I’d try to keep that quiet. The average renter would prefer not to be slowly murdered by their home.”

At press time, Hanna added to the listing by offering a one-month discount on rent to anyone that could guess which room someone had recently died in.

Container of Great Value Black Pepper in Apartment Predates all Current Tenants

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

SALT LAKE CITY – A long-forgotten, years-old container of Great Value black pepper was recently unearthed in the pantry of a two-bedroom apartment, pleasantly surprised residents confirmed.

“I just kind of discovered it when I was rearranging some things,” said Bryce Collins, the newest resident of many over the past few years. “I figured it’s not worth throwing out because pepper never really goes bad and you never know when it could come in handy. I also used to have a big thing of pepper like this in the pantry back when I lived at home. It’s something I can just take out and give a good shake whenever I’m feeling homesick whether I actually use it or not. Hell, I might even pick up some Allspice to keep it company. I mean, it’s not like it has anywhere else to go besides the waste bin.”

Despite Collin’s positive spin on the pepper’s place in his pantry, the container’s outlook on life is a lot more bleak and troubling.

“Bryce just thinks it’s like Toy Story,” the container of pepper confirmed. “He thinks the second he closes the pantry, that it’s all fun and games for us, and that we all dance around like we’re having the time of our lives. It’s been FOURTEEN YEARS! I’ve talked to the containers of garlic salt and turmeric, and they’re still holding out hope. How I miss the gentle kiss of the sunlight that shines directly into this cabinet when it’s open. While we all are holding out hope to be poured out onto a cutting board before a discount ribeye is pressed into us, we’re mostly just sitting here waiting for the sweet release of death.”

Veteran herbalist Gunter Hobbsnagen presents his expertise on the dilemma faced in this apartment unit.

“Spices are a lot like condoms,” said Hobbsnagen. “More often than not, they are purchased with lofty ambitions. As time passes, the ambitions fade, and our subjects start to expire. They start out sweet or savory, but they all end up bitter towards the end. One could only hope that a Great Value was attained at some point, but most could safely assume that one was not. It’s unfortunate, but it’s life.”

At press time, the Great Value container was spotted tying a makeshift noose out of remnants from Collin’s roommate’s crocheting scraps.

Punk Aging Like a Fine PBR

Posted on by Bobby Korec

PERTH AMBOY, N.J. — Friends and family of local punk Ricky Ballstead report he is aging “like a fine PBR” and very much proud about it, sources who reiterated that it’s not actually a good thing confirmed.

“What can I say? I take the all natural approach and just kind of let my body do its thing while hoping for the best,” said Ballstead while lighting up a cigarette he found on the ground next to a dog park. “I guess my secret is that I don’t waste precious energy on frivolous activities like exercise or walking and I make sure to get a full four hours of sleep a night. I also order a house salad from the bar one or two meals a week. With extra creamy dressing and bacon, obviously. Oh, and I stay hydrated by strictly drinking light beer like Pabst and never those heavy IPAs. If I can do it, anyone can.”

Friends of Ballstead encouraged him to take his health more seriously.

“Honestly, that dude is aging disgracefully,” said longtime pal Heather Makersfield who admittedly can’t help but “tell it like it is” with close friends. “I simply compared his aging process to that of a warm PBR that’s been sitting out in the hot sun, but he weirdly took it as a compliment. I mean, he is literally aging like a weeks-old open can of beer. His body odor is skunky, he’s lost his cool, and he leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Maybe it’s time for something more fresh for him.”

Health experts were keen to note that aging affects everyone with a pulse.

“Inevitably, we all age like some type of alcohol,” said nutritionist Fiona Doumen. “However, it’s up to you to figure out what kind of booze you want to age like. Some age like wine. Others like margaritas. Even young people are starting to age like White Claws. Either way, you always want to plan for your future aging goals and the best way to do that is by aligning it with your drinking habits.”

At press time, recent blood work revealed that Ballstead’s body was that of someone 20 or 30 years older, but he took it as a sign that he was wise beyond his years.

/**/

My Dearest Annabelle, I Fear This Battle of the Bands Shall Rage on for Eternity

Posted on by Ben Friedman

December 01, 2021

My Dearest Annabelle,

I write to you though the hour is late, but I must confess that the situation we find ourselves in is most dire. I fear this battle of the bands will rage on for eternity.

Nearly a fortnight has passed since we departed for Atlanta. Our men are severely tired and sick after every single one of us contracted dysentery from that Cracker Barrel in Vicksburg. Yesterday we accidentally left Gary the merch guy in a Citgo bathroom outside of Charleston. We cannot call him as he had the only phone charger.

We reached the “FANTA AND FRITO LAY Presents the Battle of the Bands” in Atlanta this morn, and what our eyes witnessed was enough to make even the hardiest of men question their faith. Nearly the whole day has passed and we’re still waiting to load in. The men are growing restless, and whispers of pop punk bands with 17-year-old entourages in today’s lineup makes me wonder why we ever left Philadelphia.

I saw a young bass player, already stricken with the rickets, stub his toe trying to move a trunk. Doctors had no choice but to amputate. He refused whiskey, being in a straight edge band and all, before they operated. His screams will haunt me for the rest of my days.
—
We set up camp near a broken air conditioner outside the venue. Only three bands have gone ahead of us, while we remain to eat a box of crackers and wait for any news of a set time. Our equipment is in desperate need of repair. I fear a light breeze may break the strings off this ol’ Tribute. Still, we remain vigilant and ready to play.
—
Finally some news. A grindcore band from Baltimore just returned from the front, their spirits broken, not not their bodies. They say the crowd is 5,000 strong and barely three brain cells between ‘em. One of them said the band before them mentioned off hand that they had just gotten their vaccines, and were met with a volley of Natty Light bottles. I am beginning to think we should hastily strike our cover of “Nazi Punks Fuck Off” from the setlist, if only for our personal safety,

My love, though the odds are very much stacked against us, I have not forgotten my solemn vow to you that we will return victorious with spoils in tow: $5000 and a record contract with 0.07% royalties yield. Pray I return home to you safely, and no worse for wear.

Yours Always,

Henry Wordsworth
Neutral Milk Hotel California

Woman’s Spotify Listening History Doubles as Period Tracker App

Posted on by Alicia Hawkes

MILWAUKEE — Local music listener and person with periods Megan Blake prefers to use her Spotify listening history to track her menstrual cycle rather than apps designed specifically for that purpose, sources close to Blake confirmed.

“I figured it out a few months ago when I was on my period, crying and eating nachos while listening to Elliot Smith, and realized it reminded me of a few weeks before when I cried and ate loaded hash browns while listening to Cat Power,” said Blake. “I checked my listening history and saw that the two incidents had been exactly 28 days apart. My heart racing, I went back 28 more days and saw ‘Wrong Town’ by Tony Molina 46 times in a row. The implications were clear. Now the second I reach for my loose bra and even think about listening to say, Mitski, I take a preventative Ibuprofen and an iron supplement.”

Representatives from Spotify are excited about the profit potential of listening-history-based period prediction.

“Having the data on our customer’s cycles means when they’re PMSing we can target them with ads for stretchy pants, chocolate, loose dowel rods for DIY projects around the home, I could go on and on,” said horny-sounding Spotify Marketing Director Liz Armstrong. “We’ve already started experimenting with cannabis-infused Epsom salt ads for people listening to a lot of Sade, and commercials for Doritos and Doritos-related products sold in and outside of Taco Bells in their area.”

Blake’s family is proud and hopes her discovery will be used for good rather than corporate profit, like the time she was able to warn her older sister that she might be perimenopausal when her listening history was taken over by soft rock.

Those close to Blake swear by her listening history method, which has been used to diagnose everything from pre-pre-PMS hormonal rage to perimenopausal soft rock-induced brain fog.

“I’d always listened to grunge, but out of nowhere, it was Christopher Cross, Gerry Rafferty, and Boz Scaggs. I didn’t even know who Boz Scaggs was before I was suddenly, inexplicably drawn to him,” said Blake’s sister Lindsay. “When Megan looked through my play history she told me to make an appointment with my gynecologist immediately. They told me OB/GYNs have a saying: ‘When the history says Scaggs, the egg count lags.’ I wanna say I’ll remember that for next time, but I’ll probably just blame it on everyone else being a fucking idiot like I have every month for the last 29 years.”

Blake said she has no plans to return to using more formal period tracker apps and is currently investigating a possible connection between her Sims playing and her seasonal depression.

Uh Oh: This Frontman Completely Missed the Point of “Lolita”

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

Literature can be difficult to interpret. An author’s intent is oftentimes lost by the reader, which has never been more frighteningly apparent than pop-punk vocalist James Benson’s understanding of the novel “Lolita” as he reads it for the fourth time.

It seems the 28-year-old frontman of the band “Three Ninjas” is not familiar with the term “unreliable narrator” and takes everything Nabokov’s protagonist Humbert Humbert says at face value. A quick inspection of his dog-eared copy of the novel shows that he actually ripped out all the pages in the book’s foreword, which is a little weird since that’s where a character named John Ray, Jr., Ph.D. explains that Humbert Humbert is a liar and will do anything he can to convince the reader that he himself is the victim of a cunning 12-year-old’s sexual advances.

It only gets worse when you dig into James’ obsession with the book. Just look at the lyrics to the song, “She Was Lola in Slacks.” The lyrics to the song, with its poorly constructed rhyme scheme, consists of instructions for a young woman to remain tight-lipped about her relationship with an older man in a touring band. It doesn’t take a genius to decipher what is going on here. When confronted with claims that Humbert Humbert is the bad guy in the book and that he is, in fact, a sexual predator and a murderer, James calmly responds with a little chuckle and an assurance that, “love is crazy like that.”

The fact of the matter is that “Lolita” is not a love story. But that doesn’t stop James from DMing girls on Tik Tok with quotes from the book and offering these girls “backstage passes” to shows at VFW halls. Humbert Humbert used the fact he was a “sensitive poet” to convince the reader he was a good guy. James adopted the same playbook, hoping songs about heartbreak, hating his hometown, and pizza will attract as many children as possible.

This all goes back to the old saying “There are three certainties in life: death, taxes, and pop-punk frontmen doing anything they can to justify relationships with underage girls.”

While works of classic literature will always be misinterpreted, we can only hope that enough people take “Catcher in the Rye” too literally that one of them will eventually assassinate a singer who misinterpreted “Lolita.”