We Dropped Our Tarot Cards in the Toilet, That Can’t Be Good

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. We just dropped our tarot cards in the toilet bowl. That can’t be a good sign. Can it? I mean, we’re new to reading these things but we’re pretty sure the last step isn’t “drop into toilet water because you’re lazy and decided to do this at work.”

Did we just curse ourselves?

Maybe it’s ok. It was an accident, by the way. We weren’t trying to do this. That’s what we’ll have to tell the plumber (who is on the way) because boy-oh-boy did these magical cards clog the toilet. Probably because of their prophetic energies.

Plus, a little stream of water launched by the bidet post-incident was almost a triumphant, celebratory kind of thing! Wow. What a way to re-contextualize it. Way to go, team! Just like the, uh, tower card says: Do or do not, there is no try. Or the maiden. Is there a maiden card? We’ll never know because the whole deck is ruined. Goddamn it.

Here’s what we’ll tell the boss, ok? We were informed of a “water systems emergency” by a customer and had to attend to it. Upon arriving at the scene, we discovered the still-unidentified customer had left various items within the toilet which we proceeded to attempt to dislodge. We failed. That’s a good story, right? That tracks? Will they believe it? We would ask the cards, but they’re soiled. Does anyone have a coin we could flip? From everything we’ve learned about reading these fucking cards, a coin is basically the same thing.

We Sit Down Naked With Our 8th Grade English Teacher Because We’re Trapped in This Lucid Dream

The right teacher can have a profound impact on children during their adolescence, so we decided to catch up with our favorite eighth-grade English teacher and see what she’s been up to for the last 18 years because we can’t escape this illusory realm.

The Hard Times: Ms. M! It’s been a long time. How are things going? 
Ms. McGarry: Things would be much better if these spiders stopped coming out of my belly button. Would you like a glass of warm pineapple juice? I just made some. 

Um, no, I’m good, thanks. I think ill just get an iced coffee once I wake up. What’s on the syllabus for this year? 
Never mind that. Do you see the small silver box in the back of the room? Go and grab it for me. 

Uh, sure, no problem. Are you still teaching “Lord of the Flies?” I remember that was one of my favorite books from the required reading list. 
We’ll get to that in a minute. Open the box. 

Alright. It’s just a bunch of teeth and a post-it note with some numbers scribbled on it. 
Read off the numbers.

I don’t see how this has to do with the sylla… 
I said read the numbers

Okay, Jesus Christ, just back up and put down the knife. It says 122531. 
[maniacal laughter] 

What’s so funny?
[wheezing laughter] 

What’s so fucking funny? 
That’s the date you’re going to die. You’re going to die on Christmas!

Fuck this. I thought lucid dreaming was supposed to help me access untapped portals of creativity or at least give me a greater sense of control for when I have night terrors, but this shit sucks even worse than a regular nightmare. What time is it, anyway? All the numbers on the clock have been replaced with zodiac symbols. How long have I been here? 
You’ve always been here. I should know, sir. I’ve always been here.

Now you’re just reciting lines from “The Shining.”

You’re not prepared!

Sopranos.
Have you ever seen a portal?

Donnie Darko? I think it’s time to wrap this up and see if I can find someone to help me turn this seahorse back into my penis. Good luck with the Fall semester. 

Leaked “Stranger Things 5” Soundtrack Leads to GG Allin’s “Suck My Ass It Smells” Charting for First Time Ever

LOS ANGELES — GG Allin’s 1988 song “Suck My Ass It Smells” landed at number seven on international pop charts following a leaked email containing all the songs from the soundtrack of the next season of “Stranger Things,” multiple disgusted sources confirmed.

“Each season of the show is getting a little bit darker, and we wanted that reflected in our music choices,” said Matt Duffer, one half of the creative team behind “Stranger Things.” “Season one we had The Clash, last season we had Metallica, but these kids have been through a lot and they are obviously more jaded. We felt it made sense that they would want to listen to music about shooting junk, eating shit, and self-mutilation. I don’t want to give too much away, but Dustin actually gets sprayed with diarrhea twice this season and GG Allin is the perfect soundtrack for that.”

Sadie Sink, who plays Max Mayfield, was instrumental in getting GG Allin on the soundtrack.

“In real life I would never listen to Kate Bush, she’s boring as hell. I grew up listening to bands like Anal Cunt, Regurgitate, and Cock and Ball Torture,” said Sink while playing a copy of Cripple Bastard’s “Almost Human” on her turntable. “I pushed for more extreme music to be added to the show. We can’t just have another season of nostalgia baiting, we need to push the limits a little bit. I want the characters on the show to be more comfortable with shitting in public, and I want the characters to constantly threaten to kill themselves on stage. It’s the only way the show can evolve.”

Critics were surprised to see the offensive song becoming such a hit with Gen Z content creators.

“Almost immediately after the leak the hashtag #suckmyassitsmells was trending and we had hundreds of Tiktok videos of people doing the ‘Suck My Ass Challenge’ where you smear shit on your walls and cut your forehead open with a broken bottle,” said culture critic Davis Powell. “Some of them are pretty funny, like when a parent catches their teenager in the act and basically has a nervous breakdown on camera. There was one where a dad fainted and hit his head on the toilet, I shared it with everyone I knew and I heard the guy ended up in a coma. So random.”

“Stranger Things 5” is expected to debut on Netflix in early 2034.

Andy Dick Shocked When Emmys “In Memoriam” Segment Displays Date of His Impending Death

LOS ANGELES — Comedian/actor Andy Dick was mortified to see his name displayed during the Emmys “In Memoriam” segment despite being still somewhat alive, sources reluctantly close to Dick confirmed.

“I had to watch the ceremony at the Best Buy because I haven’t been invited back to the Emmys since that once incident where I pinned down a caterer and did cocaine off his nipples. The little brat tried to sue me, whatever, I should have done more cocaine off of him in court,” said Dick from the backseat of his car. “Anyway, I find it insulting that these old farts think I’m dead and plan to take legal action against the Academy. I’ve called maybe a hundred lawyers in LA, but they all said they wouldn’t stoop to representing me. Not even Ted Bundy’s lawyer wants me. I mean that was a real kick in the old butthole if you catch my drift.”

Millions of semi-interested viewers were unfazed by news of Dick’s impending death, least of which the actor’s primary care physician, Dr. Martin Osbourne.

“He is one of the most unhealthy people I’ve treated,” lamented Osbourne. “Not just the drugs, other weird things. His body is riddled with diseases only found in fish and rodents. He regularly eats condoms full of dog excrement, or Hollywood Hot Dogs as he calls them. His genitals are deformed and rotting from years of aggressive masturbation. Hell, I’ve slowly been poisoning him for years. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this cuz of confidentiality and stuff, but fuck that guy. I’ll always blame him for Phil Hartman’s death.”

The personification of death, the Grim Reaper, admitted he was the one that Dick would meet his demise shortly.

“It’s been a long time coming honestly,” admitted the Grim Reaper. “I was supposed to get this guy back in the mid-’90s, but he’s such an asshole I’ve just been putting it off. Every year I rent a breakout room and schedule a sit-down with the In Memoriam segment producers just to make sure all the details are right. We had a few drinks, and I must’ve let it slip that I was finally gonna get Dick. And they just lit up. They must have put it in to give people something to look forward to.”

Currently, a petition is circulating with over 100 million signatures advocating for the date of Dick’s death to be expedited as soon as possible.

This Next One Goes Out to Everyone Who Said I Wouldn’t Make It- It’s Called “You Were All Correct”

Thank you, thank you, sir. Thanks for coming out tonight and supporting my music.

This next song is very special. It addresses the haters. It addresses my motherfucking critics. It’s for the naysayers who said one man with a 1980’s drum machine, one accordion, and three Boss Metal Zone pedals would fail.

This next one is dedicated to everyone who said I couldn’t or wouldn’t make it! The song is called “You Were All Correct.” God dammit, you were all so right. I should have listened. But it’s too late to change now.

I’ve burned all my bridges in my pursuit of music and haven’t looked back. Let me just say – that was a huge mistake.

Sure, I’ve played gigs to dozens and dozens of fans, if you count bar staff. But the haters won’t acknowledge that. They’ll say things like “Those were expensive pay-to-play gigs and you are in the hole financially.” And they will be correct. I am on a first-name basis with my Capital One Bank debt collector.

But what the doubters didn’t realize is that no one can stop me! Not even I can stop me. I wish I could. I’m just so, so darn stubborn. I could get a degree in library sciences or nutrition. But no, I am doomed to play these songs that I don’t even like to people who accidentally thought they were going to see Ed Sheeran because my name is Ed Sheenan. Sorry, sir. You really should have known Ed Sheeran wouldn’t be playing the Bakersfield VFW on a Monday night.

But if you want to sing along to this incredibly defiant song, the chorus is “I am so stupid for not listening to you, I’ve thrown my life away. Please let me back into your life in any capacity, I realize you simply cared about me. I’m sorry for shitting in your mailbox.” You’ll figure out the melody and timing. I can’t even really do it the same way twice, because I am so deeply untalented at music. Okay, let’s hit it!

Gang of Musical Theater Kids About to Ruin Entire Bar’s Karaoke Night

NEW YORK — A pack of annoyingly talented musical theater kids are reportedly moments away from completely ruining local neighborhood bar McCormick’s monthly karaoke night, anxious sources confirmed.

“From the second I heard them doing vocal warmups I knew we were in trouble,” said McCormick’s regular and occasional karaoke participant Richard “Ricky G” Galmenti who just completed a twelve-hour shift at a medical supply warehouse. “Some of us just want to bust out our sloppy standby renditions of Weezer’s ‘Say It Ain’t So’ or Tears for Fears’ ‘Mad World,’ but now we gotta sit through hours of Broadway standards before we get a chance. And the way they grabbed every available songbook and frantically wrote in their song choices makes me think it’ll be at least three hours before we’ll get to hear old Seany Mac’s jäger-fueled rendition of ‘The Humpty Dance’ which I’m pretty sure is the only song he knows.”

McCormick’s patrons quickly noticed a leader among the hammy horde shouting notes and stage direction at her peers.

“We’re going to give these blue-collar slobs a show to remember!” announced Evalyn So, an aspiring starlet and current Juilliard applicant. “These backwater country rubes are going to get the white hot thrill of Broadway they came here for. Hopefully the karaoke choreography we’ve been practicing all week will pay off tonight.”

Employees of the bar knew they were in the middle of a hostile karaoke takeover when they saw the musical theater kids had brought their own costumes.

“Once you see the bowler hats and canes, you know what you’re in for,” explained bartender and occasional karaoke host Claire “Claire All Night” Langston. “I wish my regulars could feel comfortable belting out Toto ‘Africa’ or blowing off a little steam with some Britney [Spears], but those theater kids just stare at you like dead-eyed funeral crows until you slink off the stage and it’s their turn for ‘Hello Dolly.’ But on the other hand, we can’t exactly kick them out for terrible choices in karaoke songs or else I would have the minute I heard the term ‘stage right’ come out of their mouths.”

At press time, tensions had escalated with the musical theater kids channeling “West Side Story” in an attempt to dance-fight the confused bar regulars who were wondering why McCormick’s had only one dartboard.

Heroic Gatekeepers Manage to Contain Dangerous New Subgenre

ATLANTA — A group of heroic gatekeepers came together to stop the spread of a new subgenre of hardcore music that was close to gaining acceptance within the scene, according to sources that just wanted to try something a little different.

“It’s never been easier to share your music with the world, and that’s why it’s so dangerous,” said musician and concerned resident and self-appointed containment officer, Steve Cole. “Thanks to the internet and technology, in just five minutes you can compromise an entire scene by unleashing an infectious new subgenre on people. We’ve been working really hard to keep this PoxCore thing within a small radius, everyone does their part. For example, last week when a new track came on in my car I rolled up my windows up to protect others. It’s not easy on a 100-degree day, but it was a good reminder to get my A/C fixed!”

Fellow gatekeeper Benny Whipple takes a more radical approach, risking his life to eradicate the sound from the inside by attending every show in the region.

“You just wouldn’t get it. And you wouldn’t want to either,” says Whipple, a soldier against the unpalatable sound that threatens to destroy hardcore punk through an infusion of bavarian polka music. “Any time I catch a band experimenting with an accordion I get right up on stage and smash the thing, it’s just too dangerous! Last week I camped out at the airport all night so I could burn a shipment of lederhosen before it could leave the tarmac.”

The commitment of a chosen few to eradicate an emerging sound is nothing new, according to music historian Jessica Bowles.

“The music ecosystem is surprisingly fragile, you never know when something truly awful is going to show up and destroy a cherished community scene. Pretentious idiots have always been vital to ensuring terrible music gets forgotten. They unknowingly work together to battle the spread, which in turn stops these trends from reaching impressionable preteens” says Bowles. “People tend to downplay tragic moments in scene history, but those of us who survived the CrunkCore epidemic of 2009 still carry those scars today in photos of bad haircuts, and for an unfortunate few, Brokencyde tattoos.”

At press time members of the community were dispatched to local venues to run “phone checks” on teenagers leaving DIY venues.

Review: Corrosion of Conformity “Blind”

Each Sunday, The Hard Times travels back and reviews a notable album from the past. This week we’re taking a look at Corrosion of Conformity’s “Blind,” the 1991 album that solidified the crossover thrash pioneers as a full-on metal act.

It was also the year that solidified my parents’ rocky relationship. I wasn’t alive at the time but both my folks love telling me about how I owe my existence to this band. They were students at Harvard where they had met and started dating. A few months into the relationship things were starting to get stale and they were on the verge of breaking up. That was until my “uncle” Steve gave my dad about an ounce of mushrooms and a couple tickets to see C.O.C. at The Channel in Boston.

Neither of my parents had ever tried drugs before, nor were they the biggest rock fans but they were willing to try something new together if it might save their relationship. A lot of the story is kind of chaotic because they later learned that they had each taken about a half ounce of the magic fungi and don’t remember too much clearly. I guess they panic ate the whole thing after witnessing someone else in line in front of them get their drugs confiscated.

They say about halfway through the opening band they noticed their bodies starting to get warm and before they knew it they were experiencing an uncontrollable giggle fit due to the fact that everybody in the room had “swirly face.” Neither of them was too sure how to handle it so by the time the first band had ended and the headliners were getting set up, they had separated and lost each other. My mom says she searched for him but my uncle Steve says he saw her laying behind the merch table making snow angels on top of the band’s shirts.

That’s when security escorted her out of the building and she ran into my dad who was out front chain smoking cigarettes with a complete stranger. This is when they locked eyes for the first time during their trip and both swear that at that moment they saw their entire future flash before their eyes. My father flicked his cigarette and ran toward my mother and they made love right there on the street in front of the venue where a horrified crowd of at least twenty-five people was in full view.

They were both arrested that night for public lewdness. My dad caught an extra charge for assault because that cigarette he flicked ended up going in that stranger’s eye, leaving him permanently blind. All in all, without this record coming out and my parents taking an inhuman amount of psilocybin before trying to go see the band play, I wouldn’t be here writing a review for tor them.

SCORE: Five out of five swirly faces.

/**/

Growing Your Business Is Easy When You Sell Signs for White People To Hang in Their Living Room

Running a business is hard right now. With the unreliable supply chain, labor shortages, and the price of materials, any business is lucky to make a buck.

Know what industry isn’t hurting? The white people sign industry. Growing your business is easy when you sell signs for white people to hang in their living rooms! In times like these, we’ll pay more to live, laugh, and love than ever!

Whenever my wife sleeps with Devin–a partner at her law firm–I buy a new sign because they remind me that life really is better by the lake. I mean, our vehicles are new, our home is impeccable, and I can always afford my cart at T.J. Maxx, so why am I so upset?

Sometimes, I sleep in one of the guest bedrooms just to see my favorite sign: In this house we have fun, work hard, and laugh loudly. I also sleep there to avoid being touched by an ice-cold bitch that thinks I’ll forget what happened at the winery last weekend.

I bought this aluminum “Every family has a story. Welcome to ours!” sign from West Elm and hung it on the shiplap by our white brick fireplace. It looks great and reminds me this nightmarish existence is totally normal and fine! I love to hang family pictures around it and pretend we’re happy even though this house is a trap I can’t escape because the cooking, cleaning and chauffeuring never end and my wife is always working late even though she’s probably just nailing her boss!

Don’t you love the giant EAT sign I hung in the kitchen while Ashley was on her last vacation–SORRY! work trip!–to Cabo? It was on sale at Target! I’m #blessed because I’d probably just close the sliding barn door to our pantry, pull my hair, and scream all afternoon without this cute little reminder to eat a sandwich.

It’s clear our twins Breighlynne and Jaxtyn don’t respect me, but as long as this distressed wood sign says it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, I have permission to drink a bottle-and-a-half of Chardonnay for breakfast.

I’ve run out of space in my house which is why I’m making and selling them on Etsy now. Filling other people’s homes with these signs is the only thing keeping me from going down the drain of disappointment and palpable sadness that is my life!

Too blessed to be stressed, am I right?

Band’s Craft Beer Release Just a Way to Keep Bassist Busy

CHICAGO — Local band Wasp Honey admitted that their upcoming craft beer collaboration was motivated mainly by a desire to get their over-eager bassist Kyle Thurso out of their hair for just a few fucking hours a week, annoyed sources confirmed.

“It was win-win, really. Kyle got to go and represent the band, and tell them what our beer should taste like, and feel important for a few minutes a day,” explained Wasp Honey singer Ami Adebayo. “And the rest of us got to have a few recording sessions without him giving us his badly-explained ideas for how we ought to sing or drum or play guitar. Our guitarist has re-recorded all of Kyle’s bass parts for the album, and they’re sounding great. Plus we got like ten crates of okay beer for free.”

Thurso was enthusiastic about his role in the beer’s creation.

“I was honored that the band trusted me with this responsibility,” explained the bassist after making himself dizzy in an office chair. “I really saw myself as an ambassador for our music and our brand as a whole. Although I didn’t know all the brewing theory stuff, it still felt like a totally equal collaboration. Sometimes I would say things like ‘what if it went fizzfizzfizz, but then it tastes of peanut butter, and then it’s fizzy again, and then also it’s extra-cold at the end?’ – really getting them to question what is and isn’t a beer, y’know?”

Jan Kučera, the brewmaster in charge, was lukewarm about the venture.

“Nobody expects band collab beers to be anything special, so we assigned the project to Todd Timmins,” said Kučera. “Todd’s kind of the ‘bassist’ of our brewery, if that makes any sense? And not just because he does actually play bass. Anyway, probably a mistake – Todd and Kyle came up with this bizarre turmeric-forward hard ginger beer called ‘Root Notes.’ I had to go in and re-brew it myself afterward. I buried all the weird spicy adjuncts deep in the mix, and came out with a passable 10%-strength double IPA that should get people shitfaced enough that they don’t notice all the fucking galangal in there”.

At press time, Thurso had just tweeted that the next Wasp Honey collab would be a 7″ single featuring him and Timmins in a two-bass jam with lyrics detailing the German “Reinheitsgebot” beer purity laws. The tweet was immediately deleted by the rest of the band.

 

We teamed up with the fine people at Goose Island to bring you a vegan burger so good it will make you hate all other food. Grab it through the month of September at the Goose Island Clybourn Brewhouse. All proceeds go to Planned Parenthood.

Stay Updated on The Latest Punk News

Get the latest punk news delivered straight to your inbox

We'll store and process this information to provide you our products and services. You may opt out of this at any time.