An Open Letter To Someone I Made up To Prove an Incredibly Petty Point

Posted on by Bobby Korec

I cannot believe this has to be said out in the open on the internet instead of in private like a reasonable person might do, but I’m afraid I just can’t do that since you do not actually exist. Also, this is the only way to prove to the world that I don’t think I should have to pick up my dog’s shit every single time I take Bubbles for a walk.

Don’t get me wrong. I used to do it when he was a puppy, back when his poops were manageable pellets. But they’re like the size of tennis balls now. Gross! How dare you not consider my plight as a dog owner as I construct a fully fleshed-out narrative in my head that I am clearly the victim here. So inconsiderate of you.

I can even picture with total clarity the belittling looks I imagine you’re giving me as I walk away from a freshly untouched poopie on the sidewalk completely unconcerned with the bottoms of pedestrians’ sneakers. If it weren’t for your condescending attitude I made up entirely, I wouldn’t have to think about real people at all.

Maybe put yourself in my shoes for a minute. Think about what it would be like to have to touch dog shit with nothing but a flimsy plastic bag separating the turd and your hand. Oh, what’s that? You can’t imagine that because you’re not real? Unacceptable. Please do better.

The tone I fantasize you taking with me speaks volumes as well. Seriously, so what if one time my dog took a dump in the middle of Walgreens on the hottest day of the year and I pretended not to notice? It was magically gone the next time I went in and that’s what counts.

Besides, I think your hypothetically demolished checkerboard Vans are going to be fine after spending an hour carefully removing the feces from each tiny crevice on the bottom of your sole. So grow up and please think about someone else for a change.

Best Days Behind 30-Year-Old Weren’t Really Even That Great

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

ANTIOCH, Calif. — Local punk Dom Medico realized yesterday that his so-called “glory days” that are now far in his rearview mirror were mostly boring and filled with inactivity, sources close to the rapidly aging man confirmed.

“People kept warning me that as soon as I hit 30 I’d have to grow up, so I tried to make sure that my teens and 20s were filled with exciting, once-in-a-lifetime experiences,” said Medico. “But when I look back on my life I really don’t remember anything worth a damn. A lot of my friends have crazy stories about fights, touring, and run-ins with cops, but I think the most exciting thing that happened to me was the time I ordered a footlong at Subway and they only charged me for a 6” sub.”

“I mean, that saved me like, $3 because it was a combo meal and I’m super grateful, but it’s not a great story,” he added. “I feel like I’ve wasted my life.”

Friends of Medico agreed.

“Dom is one of my favorite people, but, man… the guy is sort of a dud. He goes to bed at 9 p.m. every night no matter what, and he’s done that for as long as I’ve known him. Nothing cool happens before midnight. Nothing,” said longtime friend Debbie Graves. “He’s the only guy I know that’s always had a full-time job. I guess it’s kind of cool that he has some money set aside for retirement, but it’s not cool in the ‘we beat the shit out of six off-duty police officers’ sort of way. He still talks about the time he got a bag of Skittles that only had red ones inside.”

Experts warn against aging punks trying to make up for the boring lives they’ve led as they enter their 30s.

“It’s fine if you don’t have a cool story about getting high on LSD and breaking into your old elementary school. Please don’t try to do that as a full-grown adult — it’s not cute, and you’re not even on your parent’s insurance anymore, so if something happens, you’re going to be totally fucked,” said sociologist May Warner. “I recommend finding a hobby like mountain biking, or maybe even taking up jiu-jitsu. But don’t risk your employment and freedom for a cool story this late in life.”

Sadly, Medico only fell deeper into depression after finding his old Tumblr and discovering a blog post where he excitedly talked about finding a $5 bill on BART.

You Gave a Bad Review To the Wrong Etsy Seller, Motherfucker

Posted on by Patrick Crooks

“Overall, a huge disappointment and not worth the money or hassle”

You know what those are? Those are your last words, asshole.

Yeah. You, Mister One-Star. Maybe you’d have done better to keep that mouth of yours shut, because you, my friend, have made a very powerful enemy.

Did you not think that your vicious slander against my good name would go unnoticed? Like a coward, you hid behind an anonymous review, but rest assured, it was but a minor detour until I uncovered your true identity, you pathetic piece of shit. Now, the shoe is on the other foot you despicable maggot and that shoe shall crush you like the worthless insect that you are.

Perhaps you mistook me for some kind of spineless cuck? I can understand how you would make that mistake. Well, despite my involvement in the digital, artisanal knick-knack industry, I am not some candy-ass motherfucker who is going to let a regional sales manager disparage my good name and reputation.

Word of advice, tough guy: you probably don’t want to fuck with a man who has your name, address, credit card info, and nothing to lose. If you think flaming you on Twitter was bad, just wait until you get a load of what else I have in store for you. Those days of me calling you a pedophile via various anonymous Twitter accounts will seem like a goddamned beach vacation, you can bet on that.

Think I won’t follow through and that this is all just empty threats? Guess again.

I’m an Etsy seller, motherfucker. I’ve got nothing but time on my hand and a lot of frustrated creativity to come up with new ways to make you my bitch.

You said some pretty bad things about something I’ve poured my entire heart and soul into. Things that we both know are flat out lies. Did you think I was just going to take this insult to my life and livelihood sitting down? What kind of man would I be if I did that? How could I look my wife in the eyes as we made love or raise my children knowing that you’re out there, acting as though your shit doesn’t stink?

No, no, my friend. Satisfaction must be, shall, and will be mine.

Weezer Fan Eats Parasites off Pantera Fan in Exchange for Protection

Posted on by Jonah Nink

DENVER — Local Weezer fan Andy Chaplin ate mosquitos, lampreys and other parasites off of local Pantera fan Chad Stern’s back yesterday in exchange for protection from other aggressive metal dudes, sources reported.

“I would’ve been torn apart by that pack of Mudvayne fans if Chad hadn’t stepped in and charged three of them. He offered to keep protecting me so long as I agreed to live on his back and keep his skin clean. How can you say no to free protection, no rent and an endless food supply?” said Chaplin, while scanning Stern’s neck folds for fly larvae. “Sure, he loves Pantera and has an arrest record, and I like Weezer and can’t eat cream without my insides boiling, but we’re made for each other.”

“Yeah, I have to eat a few leeches and the occasional burrowed Sum 41 fan, but it’s a pretty laid back life… save for that one time we went and saw Phil Anselmo,” he added. “I really had my parasite-eating work cut out for me that night.”

Stern is also reaping the benefits of his symbiotic relationship with Chaplin, but noted that it would end the minute he ever felt hungry.

“There’s a constant urge to take that twerp off my back, shake off his cardigan and take a bite out of his skull, but I suppress it since he’s actually pretty useful. I used to spend hours picking bugs off my back, but since Chaplin eats them for me I can focus on learning the drum part to ‘Becoming’ and committing arson,” said Stern. “That being said, we do have a few ground rules: if I hear anything off ‘Pinkerton’ or run out of Slim Jims, I’m going to eat Chaplin without hesitating. But that hasn’t happened yet, so I guess he’s here to stay.”

Chaplin and Stern’s case is the latest in a long tradition of mutually beneficial pairings of different types of music fans.

“The cooperation between these two is novel, but nothing new,” said music fan mutualism expert Ava Riggs. “Happens all the time, in fact: Pavement fans live inside the stringy, blonde dreadlocks of Primus fans; KISS fans will often disguise themselves as Juggalos for acceptance, and vice versa. Even Slayer fans will keep around a John Mayer fan or two in case their weed guy isn’t picking up.”

At press time, Stern was pretending to understand what a Joe Rogan fan was talking about.

VR Enthusiast Wishes the Real World Were More Up Close, a Little Blurry

Posted on by Andy Holt

DURHAM, N.C. — Virtual reality gamer Austin Yelts reportedly lost interest in his life after buying an Oculus headset, complaining that the real world was too far from his face and not blurry enough.

“My life just can’t compete. I mean, look how far away that dumb bullshit is,” said Yelts, frowning out his window at a fresh blanket of snow, glimmering in the sun like a blank piece of paper fallen from heaven. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? It’s all the way over there.”

Yelts also criticized the graphics of the real world, claiming most of the objects were way too detailed.

“Like this shirt. If you look really close, you can see the stain from where my girlfriend spilled her drink on my shoulder, ” said Yelts, holding a wrinkled shirt from Less Than Jake’s 2002 tour. “I’m looking at this stain, and now I have to think about how she dumped me. I have to think about how she was the one, and I let her slip away.”

Yelts sobbed briefly into the shirt before picking up his VR headset.

“With my Oculus, everything is nice and blurry. I don’t have to think about what she did to me,” said Yelts, booting up Beat Saber. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Yelts’s friends claimed the visuals weren’t the only thing he complained about.

“He holds everything between two fingers, and whenever he drops something he complains that ‘the interface is all fucked up.’ He has broken, like, ten coffee mugs,” said his roommate Jenn Ansel. “What the hell is a ‘recalibrate button’ and why does he keep asking if we have one?”

Yelts was last seen balancing a five-pound weight on his head while his Oculus charged, trying to make his neck hurt the way he’s used to.

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420 Credit Score Almost Worth It

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

JONESBORO, Ark. — Local burnout Declan Goddard finally achieved his long-term goal of securing a “sort of funny” and “only a little sad” credit score of 420 after years of poor financial decisions, debt-collecting sources confirmed.

“It wasn’t easy building down my credit score. I was already in the low 500s, but breaking through that 450 wall required rolling up my sleeves and embracing my inner-fiscally irresponsible degenerate,” said Goddard. “I enrolled in cosmetology school and got a loan just so I could default on it, I bought a fleet of jet skis to impress a girl who I thought liked jet skis but turned out couldn’t swim… I even cosigned my weed dealer’s car loan, and I don’t even know his last name. Sure, I’ll never buy a house, it’ll be super hard to find a good job, and no one will probably ever rent to me, but all of that is almost worth it to have a mildly funny credit score for these next couple weeks until it changes again.”

Loan officer Joceyln Burton recently had a “time-wasting” encounter with Goddard and his poor credit score.

“Immediately after meeting Mr. Goddard, it became very clear that he was only pretending to be interested in a commercial real estate loan for a new roller coaster,” said Burton. “I started as I always do by asking for certain financial information and bank statements so I might learn more about his ‘business,’ but he insisted I check his personal credit score first. He made me say the number ‘loud enough for all the tellers to hear’ and then sat for 10 minutes, smirking in silence and miming bong rips until the security guard asked him to leave.”

Financial advisor Michaela Stone noted that treating your finances as the “made-up, fairy tale bullshit numbers they are” happens often among young adults.

“When it comes to advising millennials, I recommend an absurdist approach to financial planning,” said Stone. “After multiple recessions, a global pandemic, and the inevitable economic fuckery from climate change, we might as well get a laugh out of it, right? At this point, I honestly don’t know why anyone fucking tries to get ahead — the whole system is rigged to fuck us. Burn it all down, baby.”

At press time, Goddard’s credit score had slipped to the upper 300s, motivating him to reach a new, “even more hilarious” score of 69.

Opinion: I Now Side With Every Dad From All Those 80s Metal Videos

Posted on by Cory Cousins

I used to be one of those metal kids who thought it was cool to piss off your parents by blasting ungodly music at even ungodlier decibel levels late into the night. Even on weeknights! But that’s all changed. In the wake of countless scandals involving abuse, neo-Nazism, and not actually worshipping Satan, I finally see the eye to eye with all those angry dads from metal videos in the 80s.

Look, I’m forty-five with a crap job, three kids who hate me, and severe gastric reflux. Besides injecting Prilosec directly into my esophageal lining, my days mostly consist of pining after my youth spent hanging with my friends and blasting some killer tracks. Mötley Crüe, Poison, Guns N’ Roses: I’d heard all their radio songs. And I related to their rebellious spirit.

Hell, the first time I saw Twisted Sister’s video for “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” I was furious at the dad punishing his kid for playing music too loud. Why couldn’t he just let the kid enjoy his music?! Now I watch it with a whole different light. Now I see an ungrateful kid who left dinner after barely touching the food his dad spent his limited time after work cooking. And instead of doing his homework, this little dick decides to blast music with no regard for the aural space of everyone in the house. The dad, obviously overworked and stressed out, tries to communicate with his son about the noise. And how does this shit-pickle respond? By strumming his guitar so loud that it LITERALLY blasts his poor father out of a second-story window and onto the pavement. What a piece of shit, entitled brat! We should also look into harnessing that guitar force-push technology in case Iran gets all pissy again.

While we’re on the subject of shitty kids, look at Motorhead’s video for “Killed By Death.” You got a bratty teen daughter interrupts her parents’ TV time to announce that she’s going on a date with her biker boyfriend. They reasonably ask her to wear something more appropriate and she goes absolutely ballistic. Seconds later, the boyfriend shows up and drives his bike right through their living room wall like the Kool-Aids man, scoops up their daughter, leaves tire tracks all over the carpet, then drives through another wall and escapes to the street. I sure hope he knows how to replace drywall but if my daughter’s biker boyfriends have been any indication, fat chance!

Lastly, there’s Suicidal Tendencies’ “Institutionalized.” Yeah, yeah. It’s hardcore, not metal. Don’t talk back. Anyway, you’ve got the lead singer—a term I’m using loosely in this case—mumbling his way through the whole damn song. He eventually stumbles over to his parents’ house, where his dad is trying to enjoy a pleasant day, mowing the same patch of grass over and over. Then he starts whining about how he wants a Pepsi and can’t bear the thought of getting it himself. The poor dad loses it and starts mowing the driveway out of frustration! Poor guy. All he wanted was a fucking son he could brag about at the Elk’s Lodge.

So you can keep your rebel-without-a-cause attitude, I’ll be siding with all those mistreated dads. I gotta say I am pretty darn disappointed in how those kids acted towards their caring parents and if my kids ever talk to me again I’m gonna make sure they turn out better.

Single Prog Rock Song Mistaken for Entire Prog Rock Album

Posted on by Krissy Howard

RIO RANCHO, N.M. — A single song by prog-rock legends Rush was mistaken for an entire prog-rock album by radio listener Melissa Chavez, according to countless sources who thought that too.

“I thought it was three songs, but then towards the end it circled back and became the first song again,” Chavez said. “I thought maybe the DJ went outside for six smoke breaks, or maybe fell asleep, and the software or whatever they use just kept going… but it turns out it was still the same song. There must have been like, 16 different parts, and I’m assuming there’s an entire rest of an album that this song is on? I don’t know how they didn’t run out of steam after that one.”

Several listeners had similar sentiments, frequently describing the song as “confusing” and “emotionally triggering in a weird way.”

“It’s definitely happened to me before; nothing to be ashamed of. I once found myself sitting through 15 minutes of songs hoping something good would come on before I realized all those solos were from the same guy, and it wasn’t about to stop anytime soon,” said guy with a broken USB jack in his Honda, Max DeMerlis. “It’s not like it’s the worst music either, it just kind of sounds like the noise that might happen when you shuffle a bunch of cards and they just spill all over the place or something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I do know that it makes me physically uncomfortable, and hearing it makes me take Tylenol PM.”

Despite heavy criticism of the traditional prog rock style, some fans argue that the genre could benefit from even more gratuitous and drawn-out parts.

“If anyone says they don’t like the genre, it’s just because they haven’t really listened to it — like, really paid attention,” said prog rock superfan Vince Klein. “It’s kind of like how people say jazz is all about listening to the notes that aren’t played, except completely the opposite, and for way longer. For my money, it doesn’t get better than organ solos and pedal effects on top of each other until I’ve convinced myself I’m dying of scarlet fever.”

Tapping into federal resources, physicists at MIT unveiled a new program in hopes of determining why a single 15-minute prog rock song feels like it’s expanded to nine hours.

New ‘Assassin’s Creed’ to Be Set in Ancient Era When Donald Trump Was President

Posted on by Andy Holt

MONTREAL — Following the success of Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, Ubisoft hinted that their next game would delve further into history than ever before, taking place in the distant era when Donald Trump was President of the United States.

“It’s our favorite thing about making these games, getting to explore times completely different than our own. We’ve done Ancient Egypt, Greece, the age of pirates, the Renaissance,” said a spokesperson for the developer. “But our next game will ask our biggest question yet: what was life like when Donald Trump was President?”

Pulling from their diverse team of various beliefs, sexual orientations and gender identities, Ubisoft hoped to make their depiction as accurate as possible.

“Of course we can’t know with certainty what it was like under Trump. Things are so different now,” said the spokesperson. “It was an era when racism ran deep in the American consciousness, a small group of wealthy people thrived on the backs of the poor, and a deadly pandemic spread unchecked across the nation. We’ve done our best to imagine it.”

Scholars of the era hoped Ubisoft would be diligent in their research, taking time to highlight the forgotten details that made it stand out.

“The game is gonna have Trump. It’s gonna have Steve Bannon, maybe even Sarah Huckabee Sanders,” said Carl Henderson, 35, an expert who has reviewed thousands of hours of cable news from the period. “But what about the pee tape? What about Russiagate? Do we get to meet Chris Hayes?”

Ubisoft refused to disclose any further details, promising only that the game would also include lots of present-day scenes that are boring and way too long.       

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Over-the-Top, Public Romantic Gesture in Midst of Pandemic Leaves 42 Dead, 1 Smitten

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

SHERMER, Ill. — A heavily scripted and complex romantic gesture made by local man Chase Stratford last week reportedly swept one young woman off her feet, infected dozens, and killed 42 thus far, CDC officials confirmed.

“Recently, a hunky but obnoxious high school jock caused a superspreader event in downtown Shermer while trying to woo the mousy, artsy girl from his chemistry class,” explained Illinois Surgeon General Dr. Macy Hacket. “My understanding is that Stratford, along with a maskless marching band, a local barbershop quartet, and innocent bystanders who spontaneously dropped what they were doing to perform a choreographed dance, serenaded the young woman with the 80s hit ‘Karma Chameleon.’ The grand, romantic gesture was a little cheesy, incredibly charming, and resulted in the slow, painful deaths of many of our valued community members.”

Despite all the carnage, object of Stratford’s affection Kat Eckman was undeniably impressed.

“I always thought Chase was kind of a jerk. Plus, we’re total opposites: he plays football, I wear glasses. It would never work. But what can I say? He won me over. I can’t wait to go to Zoom prom with him,” said Eckman. “Of course, I did still try to maintain a six-foot distance during the whole event, but Chase, the band, and some breakdancing street performers who randomly joined in just kept marching towards me until my back was literally against a brick wall. At that point, I ripped off my mask and yelled, ‘You’re crazy!’ at him, and without missing a beat he yelled back, ‘Crazy for you!’ and then took me in his arms and kissed me.”

Still, those forced to join in the superspreader event, like registered nurse Zach Wilkenson, were horrified by what occurred.

“I just got off a 12-hour shift and was headed to the bus stop when I heard brass instruments pumping out that Boy George song. Next thing I know, I’ve lost all control of my body, my mask is removed, and I’m dancing arm-in-arm with rando construction workers and street vendors. I kept begging and pleading with [Stratford] to stop singing before we all get infected, but he wouldn’t listen,” said Wilkenson. “I suppose I am glad that they found love or whatever. But I’ll be much happier if the scarring inside my lungs heals.”

In a related story, the Biden Administration is waving all safety precautions for anyone running into an airport to stop the love of their lives from leaving forever.