You’ve waited for what feels like hours. Your mouth is watering. Your nose smells the moist warmth of the starchy tuber. It’s finally time to eat your baked potato. But you’re too excited. Hands are shaking as they gingerly apply butter and salt. And when it’s finally time to take that first bite, you inhale grams of aluminum foil.
Please know that this has happened to everyone, from the Queen of England to the guy your mom dated for like 2 weeks when you were in 4th grade. The Hard Times is here to help you navigate your shame and pain with a few easy steps.
1. Calm down and don’t panic
It’s easy to overreact when you eat the foil around your baked potato. You worry that maybe you’ll bust a molar crown, or you’ll digest it and the foil will lacerate your intestines on its way out. And while these are very real and legitimate concerns, there is no value in fretting about them.
2. Ipecac + Taco Bell = Success
You need to get the foil out of your body ASAP so you can continue enjoying that buttery, flaky Russet. A combination of syrup of ipecac to induce vomiting and a haphazard assortment of Taco Bell value menu items to initiate diarrhea should do the trick. You won’t have a single bit of solid matter in your alimentary canal.
3. Call Your Ex
Yes, you’re going to have to withstand an “I told you so” and a “Jesus Christ, you ate the foil again?” but your ex is the only one who can help you in your hour of need. Maybe their parenting instincts will kick in and summon an uncontrollable love for you, causing them to see the error of their ways and come crawling back.
4. Write Out Your Last Will and Testament
I hate to break it to you, but this is probably fatal. If you’re still reading, your time is limited. Each second is precious. Write out your last will and don’t make your note too sad. You don’t want to bum out the person finding you. And really think about who deserves to inherit your leftover potato.
SEATTLE — Local man Troy Ritter announced his departure as the longtime merch guy for indie band Inside Cat to embark on a solo merch project he’s been dreaming up for years, sources who predict the move will be career suicide confirmed.
“This must be what it felt like for Gwen Stefani to leave No Doubt to pursue her solo project for ‘The Voice’ on NBC,” said Ritter while packing up his trusty merch table and credit card reader iPad attachment. “Let’s just say we had our creative differences. I wanted to take the band in one direction and they evidently claimed I had no say in the artistic process whatsoever. And to think, I sold dozens of their T-shirts throughout my illustrious career. Anyway, my ex-band referring to my merch ideas as ‘objectively terrible’ and ‘a complete waste of time and money’ was just the push I needed to branch out and sell my own completely original apparel designs, which are technically mild copyright infringements on famous bands’ merch. Big things are coming, I can feel it.”
Members of Inside Cat were left scrambling to find someone to sell their goods.
“You know how hard it is to replace a merch guy of his caliber?” asked Jenny Hayes, singer for the recently merchandiser-less band. “Most merch guys avoid eye contact with customers, regularly give incorrect change, and can never find any medium sizes. Not Troy though. He was so good at standing behind a table for minutes at a time and managing simple transactions. Troy even had a couple of really funny jokes he would recycle that always left people feeling happy about their purchase. I honestly don’t even know if we can go on as a band at this point.”
Experts were convinced this break would be temporary.
“He’ll be back with them by the end of the month,” said music critic Tracy Morrispoon. “Solo projects almost always fail miserably. Sure, Beyoncé, Sting, and Justin Timberlake worked out. Also, so did Phill Collins and Peter Gabriel. Oh, and Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, and every single member of the Beatles too. Can’t forget everyone from the Wu-Tang Clan as well. Besides them though, solo projects are usually a bad idea. Well, I guess Morrissey technically did well for himself too despite being unanimously unlikeable. Actually, you know what? That merch guy will probably be fine. You do you big dog.”
At press time, Ritter completed his first solo merch show, but confused concertgoers since his merchandise had nothing to do with the bands who played.
MILAN, Italy — The incorporeal specter that has haunted the historic La Scala opera house for more than two centuries recently came to accept the fact that, for the foreseeable future, the only cultural events he’ll be haunting are live podcast recordings, spooky sources confirmed.
“When I first started haunting this theater the stage was host to only the most refined drama serious and opera buffas to ever premiere. But now all I get to haunt are three white guys breaking down every episode of ‘The Cleveland Show.’ I have no idea how that premise requires two hours to record every week, or why anyone would listen to that crap,” said the ghost, just now considering that existing in the liminal fog between life and death may not be all it’s cracked up to be. “Having been a ghost here for two hundred and eleven years, I’ve seen my fair share of fads come through — and normally that’s fine. But after all the serial murderer Wikipedia pages I‘ve heard read on this stage it sometimes makes me wish I’d never been killed by that falling sandbag.”
Lauren Morrow, co-host of the ghost encounter storytelling/sex toy review podcast “Ghouls, Fools & Ass Tools,” asserted her live show’s relevance.
“The G-FAT podcast really prides itself on both our skeptical, even-handed approach to research and our commitment to providing the most elevated content possible,” said Morrow while updating the show’s Patreon tiers. “The way I see it, there isn’t any real difference between the old ballets they used to stage here and me talking about the legend of the Mississippi Swamp Devil while I test out this new brand of nipple deicer. That’s just the way culture is.”
Professional paranormal investigator Federico Manganzana gave his perspective on the famed apparition.
“What? Who gives a shit about what podcast or whatever is going on? You realize this means there’s definite evidence that fucking ghosts exist, right?” exclaimed a deeply frustrated Manganzana. “I’ve been working my whole life to have proof like this! Although I will admit, it’s kinda weird that our evidence for the existence of life after death is basically a very spooky iTunes rating.”
At the press time, the ghost had agreed to do a guest spot on the G-Fat podcast, which is being sponsored by Casper mattress.
AUBURN, Maine — Local resident Charles Brennan’s screen door proved to be an effective way to measure the sobriety of guests at his house party last Thursday evening, pragmatic and inebriated sources confirmed this past weekend.
“This is a total game-changer,” said housemate Carly Hubinger. “We don’t want anyone too hammered driving themselves home, but when the band’s going it’s hard to tell how blasted some people actually are. One second somebody’s in the zone playing cornhole, and five minutes later they’re driving through the front of a Wendy’s. Lucky for me, the complete lack of motor function required to do something as simple as walking through a door frame without becoming entangled in the screen and requiring assistance to get out, lets me know for sure that somebody is in bad shape.”
Brennan feels differently about the careless destruction of his property and wishes his guests weren’t so cavalier.
“Listen, I understand that everybody walks through a screen door at some point in their life,” he said. “Fuck, I’ve even done it sober. I can just pop it back on its tracks and then go about the rest of my day. The problem is that when somebody wants a running start to the swimming pool from the far end of my living room on the second floor and runs through the screen and the glass, then it’s no longer a sobriety check. It’s pure, unbridled property destruction at this point.”
Local party veteran Eric Stewart weighed in on proper party etiquette.
“If you’re planning to invite a bunch of people who can’t regularly afford their own booze into your home to be their own bartenders all night, then you should expect at least $500 worth of damage,” he said. “And it’s great that the screen door sobriety check is there, because even after the entire door frame has been absolutely decimated and the deck covered in glass, it’s safe to say that if somebody is walking outside barefoot without flinching, that they shouldn’t even be operating a glass of water unsupervised at this point.”
At press time, Brennan was seen shopping for a new door at Lowe’s by hurling himself into the displays and assessing the damage.
Okay, I’ll only admit it, I only got this tattoo because I want people to ask me about it. Just thinking about the flood of questions, has me itching with excitement. I don’t want people to see me, I want them to see this badass fucking tattoo. This bad boy is going to make me more approachable while solidifying the fact that I’m only interested in talking about one thing, my new tattoo.
These things hurt like hell and frankly, I hate the way they look on me, but it’s all worth it for that sweet sweet human connection. I can hear the questions now.
“What does it mean?”
I’ll get to give some cool, aloof response like, “It’s personal and I don’t want to get into it right now,” or if I’m feeling chatty I’ll get to share a deeply personal story. Hopefully, this will happen in a public setting, like a bar. That way all the people around me will get to hear me drunkenly explain some traumatic event from my life.
“How much did it cost?”
I can’t wait to tell people this fucker cost me one month’s rent. If they tell me that it’s too expensive I’ll explain, “You get what you pay for.” If I’m lucky someone could chime in about how their homie cuts them a great deal. I love hearing how much less someone else paid for their “ink”. I take solace in the fact that said homie would be more than willing to sit me down in their living room and give me shaky-lined hazy blobs at half the price.
Somehow that is still not as satisfying as when people explain why they prefer different styles. I love traditional tattoos, but it is essential that I understand how much greater the depth of photo-realistic or watercolor tattoos are. Fuck I might already have full sleeves, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy someone trying to convince me to switch up my style next time.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
After a point, I lost count, but that’s fine because I enjoy counting all my tattoos one by one. I want to debate whether my sleeve counts as 1 or 6 tattoos. I’ll get to show off most of my tattoos, then teasing that I have a couple more in some “personal areas.” If I’m really lucky, a random stranger will grab my tattoo or try and touch it sensually. I find nothing more appealing than when a stranger nonconsensually touches me, especially if my tattoo is still healing.
I don’t want to think, I want every conversation for the rest of my life to be focused on this tattoo. Fuck I cannot wait to show this off and turn my entire persona into a 5-hour session of redrawn Spaulding flash.
ENON, Ohio — Musician and fry cook, Cody Landon, has grown weary of being called “Rock Star” at his place of employment after his coworkers discovered he plays guitar in a local rock group.
“At this point, I honestly don’t know if it’s an insult or compliment. Either way, it’s really starting to get to me. Every day I get asked about what ‘crazy road stories’ I have, or how many groupies follow me around. It’s really tiring,” sighed Landon during a five-minute cigarette break. “I’m just like… ‘Yeah Jared, I make $8.15 an hour at the Carriage Inn because the band is really taking off.’ I just don’t think they realize how depressing it is to have your dream job thrown in your face while actively working your nightmare scenario.”
Landon’s supervisor, Sarah Jenkins, gleamed with excitement when asked about his employment at the local diner.
“Aww, Cody’s our little celebrity! I can’t believe we get to work with him before he hits the big time!” exclaimed Jenkins who has admittedly never attended a show of Landon’s or listened to his band’s recordings. “Here at Carriage Inn, our staff is like family, and we do everything we can to support each other. It makes it all the easier when you have someone as talented as Cody on board! We all just know he’s destined for big things.”
Owner and general manager of Legend’s Bar and Grille, Jim Kilby, explained that while he often hosts Landon’s band, he does not have high hopes for their success.
“They play here every couple of weeks, and they are far from our most popular act. In fact, we lose money every time they play. We had to quit putting their name on the sandwich board sign out front because patrons just turn right around when they see it,” lamented Kilby. “The last time they performed, our bartender walked out in protest. I’ve even been having to pay the sound guy out of my own pocket recently. It’s really not tenable at this point, but I guess I just feel sorry for the kids. They try so hard, but it just doesn’t seem to be working out for them.”
At press time, Landon was being informed that his PTO request for his band’s upcoming tour had been denied.
Whether we’re judging how attractive young starlets look in designer gowns, or celebrating white people profiting off the talent of Black musicians, there is always something surprising at an awards show! We broke down the top ten most controversial moments in award show history.
Wrong Film Announced as Best Picture Winner
In 2017, Faye Dunaway mistakenly announced that the Oscar for Best Picture was star-studded movie musical “La La Land,” when, in actuality, the real Oscar winner was “Suicide Squad,” but only the scene in which Jared Leto’s Joker pretends the mouth tattoo on his hand is his real mouth.
Kanye West Correctly Interrupts Taylor Swift
Who could forget when Kanye West, now known as a cobbler from Calabasas, stole the mic from Taylor Swift at the 2009 VMAs to announce that the award should have gone to Beyonce, for her music video “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)?” The incident is notorious because it was the last time Mr. West made a statement that was unimpeachably correct in public, following up on his earlier hit “George Bush doesn’t care about Black people.”
Marlon Brando Uses Platform to Advocate for Others
In 1973, Marlon Brando invited Native actress Sacheen Littlefeather onto the Oscar stage to refuse the Academy Award he’d been given for his performance in “The Godfather.” This shocked the Academy, who were previously unaware that white savior characters could exist off-screen.
Jennifer Lawrence Falls Up the Stairs and Is Therefore No Longer Sexy
The only thing better than celebrating the extraordinary work of the world’s brightest stars is tearing them apart when they’ve revealed themselves to be human. Many people may not recall this, but prior to falling at the Academy Awards in 2013, Jennifer Lawrence was actually considered attractive by many. Now she is rightly mocked and scorned.
The Three-Way Kiss Between Madonna, Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera
This educational moment allowed gay and bisexual young women and girls everywhere the opportunity to see how their parents would later react when they finally came out. Did they cringe? Did they change the channel? Did they turn to you and say, “You know, honey, if Cathy is more than your roommate, we’d be fine with that. Actually, we’d be really happy for you, and we’d worry less that you’ll get pregnant before you finish college.” Don’t worry, gals—the queerbaiting only gets better!
Adrien Brody Kisses Halle Berry Without Her Consent
This wasn’t that controversial, sadly. Men do shit like this all the time. But really, it should be a bigger deal. It’s not romantic and it’s not charming. Be better, men.
John Travolta Calls Idina Menzel “Adele Dazeem”
At the 2017 Academy Awards ceremony, John Travolta mistakenly uttered the phrase “Adele Dazeem,” a call to arms for scientologists around the world to prepare for galactic war as the Feds close in on the remains of Shelly Miscavige. A seasoned actor, Mr. Travolta quickly covered his mistake by pretending to have mispronounced the name of talented multihyphenate Idina Menzel. No need to worry, fellow believers—where Shelly’s gone, no one will find her!
Beyonce Invents Motherhood at VMAs
Having already dominated the airwaves and won over the hearts of fans around the world with her group Destiny’s Child as well as her solo albums, Beyonce broke new ground in 2011 with the discovery of pregnancy and the invention of motherhood. Since her revelation, millions have followed in her footsteps, birthing what we now call “children.”
Jodie Foster Comes Out as Mel Gibson Supporter
Nothing is braver than when people who are known for being rich surprise us all by revealing themselves to also be ethically bankrupt! Jodie Foster, who directed and starred alongside Mel Gibson in 2011’s The Beaver, has boldly come forward to say that his misogyny, anti-Semitism, racism, and good old fashioned physical abuse are a-okay with her.
Charlie Chaplin Gets a Twelve Minute Standing Ovation
Unfortunately, the audience had seen his mustache and mistaken him for Adolf Hitler.
Welcome to the simulation. For some time now people have noticed what appear to be glitches in the timeline, inconsistencies between hard copy media and our collective memories. The Berenstein Bears. The Fruit of the Loom cornucopia. That Sinbad genie movie. All of those are bullshit and only gained traction because people are idiots, but I was just watching one of those “remember the 90s” shows and George Burns was a Spice Girl? Yeah okay reality might be broken.
Every source I’ve checked says the same thing: The Spice Girls consisted of Scary Spice, Sporty Spice, Ginger Spice, Baby Spice and George Burns. He doesn’t even have a spice name like Old Spice or Smokey Spice, just George Burns. I can’t be the only one who remembers the group rounded out by another attractive woman and not veteran comedic actor George Burns, right?
Look, I think the “Mandela effect” is bullshit, but this is kind of crazy. There’s just no way that The Spice Girls were the pop sensation I remember them to be and included an old cigar smoking man cracking wise. Dude was like in his 90s, how could he have done the dance moves?
I would have remembered that.
I listened back to some of their songs, and they sound just like I remember, except now they have George Burns chiming in with one liners. It’s not even melodic, it sounds like someone just haphazardly slapped George Burns sound bites over Spice Girls songs. Why is everyone okay with this?
I remember whenever their music played on my school bus my friends and I would argue over which one was the hottest, and this one kid, Tommy Crealmann, always picked Posh Spice, a woman I swear existed and was in the group. I looked Tommy up and called him. I asked him “who’s the hottest Spice Girl?” and without missing a beat he says “George Burns because he’s funny and smokes cigars.”
Either the worlds gone crazy or I have. No one I talk to remembers Posh at all. One dude even made a big deal of the fact that there’s no spice called posh spice. I fired back with “there’s no spice called baby spice either!” and he goes “Yeah there is” and pulls a bottle of baby spice out of his pocket, so I guess that’s different now too. Apparently it’s used to spice up food for babies, and not to spice up babies for eating, still weird though!
BUTLER, Pa. — Local lesbian Katie Hargrove recently came to the horrifying realization that she is becoming her father, sources currently standing at her window and shaking her head while observing the condition of the grass confirmed.
“It just hit me — I was at Home Depot, right, looking for some plumbing fixtures for the guest bathroom, and I said ‘Jesus Christ, these cost an arm and a leg’ or something like that. And I had this distinct memory of being a kid, getting dragged into the hardware store with my dad, and hearing him say literally the exact same thing, verbatim,” said Hargrove from her converted garage workshop. “I legitimately just stood in the aisle in shock for a few minutes after that occurred to me, like, fuck, I’m in my 30’s and turning into my father. This is every lesbian’s worst nightmare.”
Hargrove’s live-in partner, Mary McKenny, suggests that the transformation into her father may not have been as sudden as Hargrove initially suspected.
“Listen, I’m not trying to be rude, but this has been a long time in the making. Her Dad-isms have been increasing by the minute,” said McKenny. “We took a little trip out of town for a long weekend recently, and she woke up at 6 o’clock in the fucking morning. On vacation! I came downstairs in the Air BnB and she was reading the paper at the table and drinking black coffee. I could see her having to physically hold herself back from making a snarky comment about me sleeping in.”
“Next thing she knows she’s going to be buying a tractor with a down payment in cash, or taking 45 minutes in the bathroom to take a shit,” McKenny added.
Hargrove’s oldest brother Thomas confirmed that the so-called “Dad curse” is inescapable in their family.
“I know Katie is having a rough go of it right now, but she has to understand—this has happened to all of us,” the elder Hargrove explained, somewhat patronizingly. “She has three older brothers, and at this point, we’re all basically carbon copies of our dad. Each of us had her Home Depot moment, you know? Mine was when I needed dress shoes for a wedding and I went to a Sketchers store. I’m just saying, she’s been doomed since birth, that’s all.”
Hargrove ended the interview by stating that she needed to clear her head, and geared up to do some “relaxing yard work.”
It seems like every passing year the line between what is and is not punk becomes murkier, so I want to draw a line in the sand and set the record straight once and for all. Any asshole can wear a battle jacket, listen to Aus Rotten and go to house shows, but if you weren’t alive and in New York in the ‘70s and a criminal who got shot by Charles Bronson, don’t fucking call yourself a “punk.”
Punk rock isn’t about looking cool and drinking until you blackout each night. It’s about doing horrific crimes and getting gunned down by a vengeful Charles Bronson. Any deviation from that is poser bullshit.
I would love to see how Green Day holds up with a belly full of lead courtesy of The Vigilante’s Colt 32.
I see these so-called punks today with their Hot Topic get-ups and their vegan burgers and their “I hate my privileged small town” horse shit and I have to laugh. These posers wouldn’t last a day in New York. I’m talkin’ the REAL New York, back when the deuce was all porno flicks back when the streets were paved with dirty needles, back when Bronson prowled the night and shot anything wearing liberty spikes that moved.
It doesn’t matter which Bronson shot you. You could have been taken out while trying to commit assault by Paul “Deathwish” Kersey. You could have been elaborately snipped off by Arthur “The Mechanic” Bishop. You could have been gunned down by Danny “The Tunnel King” Great Escape Charles Bronson — it would be weird, but it counts. Just as long as Bronson put a slug in you during the ‘70s or like, 84, at the latest, you’re a real punk. Nah fuck that, 83.
There aren’t many of us real punks left these days. It’s partly because a true punk lifestyle requires a lot of hard living, and partly because Bronson is a damned good shot. I got a metal slug where my left kidney used to be, know why? Cause I’m punk as fuck! Now, let’s go do some violent crimes for little to no financial gain!
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