Oh, You Love Sriracha? Name 3 Other Huy Fong Foods, Inc. Products

Posted on by Lauren Lavin

Of all the ills plaguing Americans today, from historic drought and skyrocketing homelessness to the ongoing and totally uncontested presence of concentration camps at the U.S. border, one stands head and shoulders above the rest: That’s right, cultural appropriation. Specifically, appropriation of Huy Fong Foods, Inc.’s crown jewel chili-sauce product, Sriracha.

When I opined to my friends that Sriracha theft was perhaps the worst form of cultural appropriation, at first they wanted to argue. “This seems more like a cut-and-dry case of cultural exchange,” they said, and, “You’re not even Asian so maybe you should sit this one out.” Those fools. Obviously I’m not talking about appropriation of Thai or Vietnamese culture.

I’m talking about appropriation of foodie culture.

I’m sick and tired of hearing non-foodies gush about Sriracha. I see you wearing that strutting cock on your t-shirts, getting the bottles tattooed on your legs, and using it to add a spicy kick that’s perfectly balanced by the lightest touch of sweetness to your meals. But for as much as you plebs claim to looooove Sriracha, I bet you can’t even name three other foods distributed by the important cultural touchstone that is the Huy Fong Foods, Inc. mega multinational corporation.

Go ahead. Tell me three other food products made by Huy Fong Foods, Inc. You can’t, can you? That’s what I thought. Just take your Trader Joe’s gentrifier rooster sauce and sit the fuck down for once.

What’s that? They only have two other products? Huy Fong Foods, Inc. was started in California and has only been around since the ‘80s? Wow, I guess you must speak for the entire foodie population!

It doesn’t stop there. I just know you’ve got some thoughts on Mexican hot sauces you’d like to share, hombre. Let me guess: you’ve been drinking Cholula from a bottle since you were a baby, think Valentina is only okay, and have either dated someone who dressed as the Tapatio guy for Halloween or have yourself dressed as the Tapatio guy for Halloween. Real cool. Just know that every bottle of El Yucateco that you purchase to show off how cultured and interesting you are is a bottle you’re taking right out of the hands of some innocent, starving, and far more deserving foodie, like me. How do you live with yourself?

Metalhead on Camping Trip Regrets Bringing Viking Sword to Chop Wood

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

CARVER, Mass. — Local metalhead Tyler Kearns admitted that the replica Viking sword he brought on his camping trip might look badass, but is terrible for chopping wood, confirmed fellow campers who desperately hope to get a fire started before it gets dark out.

“I can barely make a dent in any of the trees no matter how hard I swing this thing. All the other guys are mad at me because my only job was to bring firewood. In my defense, I thought I would be able to channel the power of Odin through my blade and chop the fuck out of some wood,” said Kearns, who was shirtless and sweating profusely as the sun began to set. “I feel like I got ripped off here. The guy at the sword shop should have let me know that this thing would barely be able to knock leaves off a branch. I was able to use the tip of the sword to pry some bark off a dead tree by the river, but other than that, this has been a complete failure.”

Friends of Kearns said they specifically asked their fantasy-metal loving friend to leave the sword at home.

“This isn’t the first time he’s brought the sword camping. We went up to New Hampshire and he used that thing to roast marshmallows but accidentally ended up stabbing the roof of his mouth and needing 17 stitches,” said friend and sword detractor Oliver Clifford. “He spent the last four hours taking photos with the sword, and yeah, the photos looked cool as hell, but we would have been much better off if he invested in some sort of battle axe. I might have to hop back in the Kia and go into town to grab wood from Albertson’s before it gets too dark.”

UMass Lowell Sociology professor Dr. Hector Carmen has studied metal fans and their habits for years.

“People that love metal believe that their sword is the ultimate tool for every job, failing to realize that in most cases it’s a completely useless hunk of metal,” said Dr. Carmen. “I once followed around a ‘metal plumber’ that would use his sword to unclog pipes, and it usually resulted in him breaking a customer’s toilet and having to go to court to pay for the damages to the house.”

Kearns is reportedly planning on leaving the camping trip early after a group of nearby Boy Scouts were overheard making fun of his gauntlets.

Car Manufacturers Pledge to Go 100% Electric by Time It’s Too Late

Posted on by Josh Klasco

DETROIT — Automobile manufacturers across the country hoping to stem the tide of climate change pledged to go 100% electric by the time it’s too late, reported sources who wish they were more surprised by this shit.

“When our grandchildren ask us what we did in the face of existential threat fueled by our addiction to profit, we will look them proudly in the eyes, and tell them that we heroically did the bare minimum when it no longer mattered anyway,” boasted GM CEO Mary Barra, wearing a new pair of manatee skin boots. “Let me assure you, this lionhearted decision was not taken lightly. But after our PR team assured us that this would shut everyone up without actually requiring us to do anything, we pledged to boldly pretend to go where no one has pretended to go before!”

To people like Dallas resident Adam Chara, this was fantastic news.

“I’m too old for climate change to affect me, but my nieces and nephews won’t shut up about it,” moaned Chara next to his perpetually idling pickup truck. “When these car manufacturers started talking about electric vehicles, it pissed me off because those things are for liberal, soy eating socialists. But I felt a lot more at ease when my brother’s zoomer kid told me that none of this mattered because I’d be long dead before car manufacturers actually did anything of substance. Then the kid started telling me I should stop burning plastic bags and I had to tell him to shut up. Kids these days are so sensitive.”

Various specters and prophetic spirits from the great beyond expressed dismay at the announcement.

“I mean, where did we go wrong?” asks the listless Ghost of Automotive Disasters. “My colleagues and I have been haunting the heaven out of these car manufacturers for years and they never even bat an eye. They’ve got balls of steel and hearts of stone. I guess they have so many other ghosts warning them about the various other errors of their ways that they’re immune or something. Even the Ghost of Christmas Future has stopped haunting these guys, and he’s the one that convinced Donald Trump Sr. not to have Eric killed. Look, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you should start making some sacrifices to Marduk so you can at least have a cushy afterlife.”

In a scathing rebuke of this condescendingly transparent PR ploy, a barista from Denver has decided to start riding her bike to work.

How To Write Your Own Weezer Song Since You Hate All Their New Ones

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Let’s face it. Complaining online about new Weezer material is just part of the human experience. It usually occurs between early and middle adulthood, according to psychologists. But what if I told you that, instead, you could be shutting the fuck up and writing your very own Weezer songs instead?? Fortunately, we’re here to help you be the change you want to see in the world.

Learn an Instrument – You might be thinking, “I’m 36 years old, incapable of learning new things, and I typically give up at the first sign of hardship. How can I learn an instrument?” Okay fine. Stop reading now and just keep whining about how the band tried to evolve without your express written consent beforehand. That’s way easier.

Form a Band – On the off chance you already know an instrument, you can move on to the next step and form a band with people who don’t play the same instrument as you. To get that old-school Weezer vibe, you want all of those people to be authentically nerdy. Consider adding a relay race or some sort of “field day” element to your tryouts. Cut anyone who successfully completes the race.

Write Some Lyrics – If you’ve made it past the first two prerequisites, it’s time to start writing your own Weezer banger. Let’s start with lyrical content. Weezer likes pop culture references. Mary Tyler Moore, Green Day concerts, and a slew of other references will make the listener go, “Hey, I’ve heard of that thing before.” Now you’ve got them exactly where you want them.

Oh, and a side tip: If you can somehow make a music video where you’re digitally spliced into a scene from a once big-time show like “Happy Days,” that’s double pop culture reference points. Maybe “Freaks and Geeks” or something dorks are into.

Lay Down Some Music – This doesn’t have to be too complicated. Mix in some E and A chords and throw in an F minor, wrap all that up in a two-and-a-half-minute pop song structure and you’ve written yourself a certified Weezer song. For your guitars, you want to develop a tone that’s crunchy yet poppy, and also make it sound heavy yet somehow lighter than air at the same time. Fuck, the guitars sounded good on the Blue Album. Another Weezer songwriting technique is just rearranging chords from old Weezer songs. If the real Weezer can do it, so can you.

Album Art – The last step is to take a photo of yourself in front of a background that is exactly one color while resisting the urge to smile. Boom! Now you’ve got your very own Weezer song and you only have yourself to blame because it’s “not as good as their old stuff.”

DIY Venue’s Size Cut in Half After Upstairs Neighbor Parks Car in Driveway

Posted on by Ramona Apthorp

LOS ANGELES — Upstairs neighbor and generally lame dude Thomas Gordon reduced the size of famed local DIY venue The Shit House by half last night after parking his car in the venue’s driveway, according to sources.

“I came home from work and my neighbor Jeff [Matthews] just kinda started running towards my car while shouting about someone named Gigi Allen,” said Gordon. “I didn’t even realize until tonight that this was a music venue — I thought maybe it was some sort of weekly costume party where they use power tools. Apparently they’ve been making those noises on purpose. But at least now I know why people keep asking me for a donation of one non-perishable food item when I go in through the side door.”

Attending punks reported that The Shit House’s promoter Jeff “The Stink” Matthews was pacing around the venue and punching the air as Gordon pulled his car up.

“This is such bullshit. I’m gonna fight that car,” said Matthews. “Not just Thomas, but his stupid fucking clean car as well. He doesn’t even have loose receipts or cans rolling around in his passenger seat. This is just like the time my step-mom came over and decided to clean the bathroom — you can’t run a DIY space with a clean bathroom, Janice! I’ve had it up to here with this guy coming in and treating the place like he lives here.”

While the parked car was a nuisance to some, others were relieved by the venue’s size reduction.

“When I first saw the place, I was worried that maybe I’d made it big by how much crowd space the venue had,” said Coke Brothers frontwoman Gretch Stevens. “So you can only imagine how relieved I was when I saw a 2008 Honda Civic park in what was a mosh pit 40 minutes earlier. If it turned out I was playing a large venue, I don’t think I could ever show my face around the scene again. Nothing is more of a career killer around here than a career.”

The Shit House will be hosting its annual eviction show at the end of the month.

Review: Discharge “Live at the City Garden New Jersey”

Posted on by Krissy Howard

Each Sunday, The Hard Times travels back and reviews a notable album from the past. This week we tackle the legendary live album from Discharge at the height of their powers.

The year was 2021, which is this year, but it was last month, which honestly feels like a fucking lifetime ago and somehow also no time at all? Anyway, it was on a balmy spring morning that I woke up to the shock of a lifetime, for the sixth time that week, in my pants. As someone who prioritizes her health above all else, and just under ordering Seamless and looking at Instagram, I knew I had to seek help immediately. 

A cursory search led me to pages upon pages of information about my possible medical condition. Naturally, I jumped to page 14, which is where everyone knows all the good information hides out. It was there that I found something called Discharge: Live at the City Garden New Jersey, which called to me as I had just been in a hot tub in New Jersey the week before. I ordered the album and it arrived two weeks later, by which point my pelvic area was weirdly sore and all of my leggings had to be burned for reasons I will not disclose. 

The album was pretty good. The songs were screamy and short, unlike this problem I’m dealing with, which seems like it’s been here forever. It opened with a song called “Warning,” so I was fully prepared to find out whatever I have is with me for life, but it just kept going into more songs about breaking beer bottles or something. By the time I got to “Anger Burning,” I thought for sure I would get some answers, but the only thing burning was my pee hole, and apparently Discharge (the band) anytime they think about The Queen of England. Both the album and my internet search met me with the ultimate “Price of Silence,” for which I, and my fabric couch, paid for dearly.  

The album did get me curious about the band. According to their Wikipedia page and not WebMD, Discharge (the band) are a bunch of anarchists who are also pacifists, which means they must have been like the brontosaurus of the music world. There are a ton of words like “grindcore” and “thrash” used to describe them, but there was nothing that really captured what I was feeling while I listened to it, which I would call “red,” “painful,” “smells bad,” and “clumpy.” The closest comparison I could make was “crust,” but I didn’t really understand why the “punk” part was at the end of it. 

Honestly, listening to this music makes me feel kind of itchy sometimes, especially at night when I try to fall asleep or after I workout. But I guess art is subjective and affects everyone differently, so maybe that’s what makes it good. Unfortunately, this album did absolutely nothing to alleviate my burning vagina problem, but then again, I ordered some shoes that same day and they also did nothing, so I can’t be too hard on it. 

I did find out from a friend just yesterday that what I have is probably what’s called a “yeast infection” and can be cured with a suppository, which is kind of like a dildo full of medicine. 

Overall, I would give this album a 99% rating for the music, and minus 1% for the confusing name. Fortunately, there are no bands called Monistat-1 Maximum Strength and there’s a CVS like, three minutes from my apartment, so it all worked out. 

Official review: Monistat 3 out of 7

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Wet Shower Curtain Clinging to Woman’s Leg Most Intimacy She’s Experienced in Years

Posted on by Alice Lahoda

CHERRY HILL, N.J. — Local woman Stacy Tran was reportedly shocked by a recent revelation that she shares a more intimate bond with her shower curtain than any of her recent romantic partners, sources confirmed.

“I can’t remember the last time a guy couldn’t keep his hands off me for even a minute,” opined Tran. “But as I tried and failed to hold back my shower curtain long enough to shave my legs the other day, it occurred to me that this curtain still clings to me just as much as the first time we showered together. Not only is this the longest relationship I’ve ever had, but the cold, suction-y grip of that plastic is an embrace more tender than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Tran explained that she values reliability and familiarity above all else in a relationship, which her shower curtain “absolutely delivers.”

“This curtain knows my secrets, like how sometimes I’ll pee in the shower even after I suds up, or how I cry every time Jesse McCartney’s ‘Beautiful Soul’ plays on my shower speaker. And no matter how many times I push it away, it never leaves me,” Tran gushed. “Boyfriends come and go, but this $24.99 shower curtain from Target is forever. No, seriously, it’s one of those washable curtains that you don’t need to replace. This is a lifetime commitment, and I think we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Tran’s most recent boyfriend, Ryan McSweeney, said he was surprised by her epiphany, although he doesn’t harbor any hard feelings towards her or the curtain.

“Yeah, it was a kind of strange thing for her to share with me, but I wasn’t hurt by it. I’m an open minded person, and Stacy and I both knew this relationship would end the day we were fully vaccinated,” confided McSweeney. “But in retrospect, it’s definitely weird to think about all the times we had shower sex. I don’t know who she was more attracted to: me or the curtain. But I can’t talk too much shit, especially since me and that Giovanni conditioner she keeps in there got pretty close over the last few months as well.”

At press time, Tran was spotted in a local sex shop holding a basket filled to the brim with waterproof toys.

Internet Can’t Fucking Wait to Push Newly Famous Artist to Psychological Ruin

Posted on by Andrew Murphy

SEATTLE, WA — Internet commentators and online communities announced this morning that they are “fucking stoked” to push recently famous musician Hank Todd past the edge of sanity in the wake of his viral hit “Cat Dance.”

“I left a comment saying he was awesome about four months ago, which I know will throw him off the scent from the backlash that’s about to come out of nowhere and for no real reason,” said YouTube viewer with a photo of a turd as their avatar known only as DirtyEscobar. “Hopefully, we can overwhelm him with so much praise that he loses touch with why we liked him in the first place. Then, we’ll randomly cut off the praise spigot, which will send him into an embarrassing spiral of trend-chasing and overly confessional live streams. This shouldn’t take long at all.”

While some have promised unquestioning support for Todd’s every future move, others have decided to devote their time to destroying him for any minor slight.

“When I first listened to the song, my reaction was that the western 12 note scale is colonialist,” said Twitter user Miranda Piersol. “My absurd comment and the hyper partisan over-reaction to it will eventually overwhelm the entire discourse, forcing him to make some comment which will only inflame the issue. Hopefully, he will resent his fans for forcing him to tailor art to the toxic discourse of the Internet, then lash out via poorly thought out political tweets. I’m beyond thrilled to be a part of this.”

Todd responded to the relentless barrage of attention by recording a brief video from the backyard of his house.

“I just feel so blessed,” said Todd of his upcoming demise. “It’s not everyday that you get thrust into the murderous gaze of the digital hellscape that is modern social media, and as a creative and highly sensitive person, I’m greatly looking forward to it. I’m thrilled at the prospect of becoming alienated from all my lifelong friends, replacing them with social climbers, then becoming consumed by the baffling amount of vitriol I’ll receive for slightly changing my sound. Who knows, I might even develop a drug problem! Hopefully they’ll have me for long enough to make that happen.”

Fans responded to the video by identifying Todd’s home address via satellite photography and telling the police to send a SWAT team.

The Phrase “I Was One of the Kids in the ‘Runaway Train’ Video” Used To Mean Something in This Country

Posted on by Dan Rice

When did America lose its values? There was a time in this country when people knew their neighbors, where they weren’t afraid to greet strangers on the street, and would say things like, “Hey, weren’t you one of the missing kids from the Soul Asylum video? Holy shit man, let me buy you a drink!” It was a simpler, happier time.

Nowadays, everyone’s 15 minutes are already up. You’re only as good as your last tic tock blog or whatever the hell it is. It wasn’t that way in the ‘90s. Yessir, minor celebrity had itself a shelf life back then, and a guy who found himself in the spotlight for a minute one way or another could squeeze a pretty sweet life out of it if he played his cards right.

Take for example oh, I don’t know, a scrappy young street punk by the name of Edgar John Towers, aka yours truly.

Edgar had the good sense to get himself missing during the biggest boom in the missing child world since the milk carton: the Soul Asylum “Runaway Train” music video. One minute he’s huffing glue by a trash fire with his fellow transients, the next, he’s on fucking television. He was on television in the ‘90s, back when that meant something.

The payphone we all hung around started going off the hook. Before I even told my parents I was still alive, I got myself booked on Larry King Live, Oprah, and something called Sally Jessy Raphael that mommies and daddies used to watch. After some tense negotiations with Mom and Dad (they wanted 60% public appearances and book rights, as if!) I was picked up and brought home. They had a fucking parade for me.

Yes, that was a good couple of years. I was all over the talk show circuit, Aaron Spelling was developing my life story into a teen sex show for FOX and everywhere I went people were buying me lunch hoping I would share the sordid details of my mysterious disappearance. But as they say in “The Outsiders,” a book they used to make us read in school to help us understand the American class system, “nothing gold can stay.”

So howbout it man. Buy me a beer?