Fucking Liar Does Have CVS Card

Posted on by Erin McLaughlin

HYANNIS, Mass. — Local man Kenny Gomez was outed as a “fucking liar” on Tuesday evening upon telling a pharmacy cashier that he does not have a CVS ExtraCare card when she, in fact, does.

“I knew the cashier saw the mini-card thing on my keys when I put them on the counter,” said a red-faced, guilt-stricken Gomez. “I considered telling her the truth, but I just don’t have room in my car’s front console for more receipts, what with the slew of McDonald’s drive thru receipts already shoved in there. I feel guilty for lying, certainly, and also kind of foolish… because I know I shouldn’t turn down a 6-for-$5 Ramen packet deal at this point in my life.”

CVS Pharmacy cashier Melanie Chung, who handed out over 20 15-foot long receipts during her shift that day, did not consider Gomez to be the sinner she’d pinned herself as.

“I was actually relieved to not have to avoid eye contact for 30 seconds as the long-ass thing printed,” said Clark. “If he’d told me the truth, I know it’d just contribute to the receipt-garbage overflow I have to take out every hour. So it’s a win-win for both of us — unless he really wanted two Almay concealers for the price of one, of course, which actually is kind of a decent deal, but his loss.”

However, Gomez’s mother was upset her son did not use the CVS ExtraCare card she gave him for his birthday.

“I never waste a CVS receipt. I’ve used it as a bandage, toilet paper, and to patch the hole in our roof,” said Kenny’s mother, Lucille Gomez. “She could have just folded it in his pocket, cut out the $5 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner coupon, and remembered to bring it with him and use it the next time he’s at CVS. How hard is that? And don’t even get me started on the ExtraBucks he missed out on — 30 more trips with that card and he would’ve gotten $3 off his next purchase of two whitening toothpastes, as long as he used that within four days. I don’t recognize the apparent monster that I raised.”

At press time, Gomez declined to donate to Walgreen’s American Diabetes Association fund, despite actually having a dollar in his wallet.

We Sat Down With Eddie Van Halen to Ask How He Accepted His Son Coming Out as a Bassist

Posted on by John Danek

If Jimi Hendrix opened the door to what could be done on an electric guitar, Eddie Van Halen split-kicked that door in. This led to decades of success, international tours, signature guitars, and an eruption of teacher/student fantasies. But that doesn’t mean his life hasn’t been without struggle. We sat down with Eddie to talk about accepting his only child, Wolfgang Van Halen, as a bassist.

The Hard Times: Can you tell us about the moment Wolfgang came out to you as a bassist?

Eddie Van Halen: Ya know, there were some signs early on. When he was about 9 months old I put a little guitar in front of him. Instead of using his thumb like a pick, he used his index and middle fingers to strum the strings one at a time. I almost cried seeing my boy touch his first guitar. He looked so lame.

But is that really so bad? Society has progressed to largely accept bassists as valid musicians.

True, but it’s not enough. I’ll love my son no matter what but as a parent you want your children to have lives that are free of pain. I was afraid being a bassist would add difficulties at every step and he would flee from music and become a jock or worse. I see now that I was being overly cautious and I’m much more accepting of his lifestyle choices these days. Sorry, his genetic predisposition. Forgive me, I’m from another time. But I am not stuck there no matter how I still dress.

Have you ever talked to Wolfgang about how, historically, you’ve paid bassists in your band way less than anyone else?

Woah buddy, that stings. I want to state publicly that I’m no bassphobe, kay? I’ve welcomed bassists into all of my bands. Sure, in my younger years, I paid them peanuts compared to the other members and said things like, “Lemmy tell you this, I don’t care if you play bass as long as you stay away from me on stage,” but I’ve apologized for those comments repeatedly. Besides, literally every band was paying bassists less! I regret it, but it was so commonplace back then.

Do you have anything to say to young bassists out there?

It gets better. I promise. If you’re a young bassist thinking about jumping off that cliff and picking up a more respected instrument like kazoo or triangle, please stand strong. If I can change, the rest of the world will eventually change too. We need more bassists, not less. But for real, stop trying to play goddamned bass chords under a guitar solo.

Black Man Unrecognizable to Coworkers After Removing Police Uniform

Posted on by Kevin Tit

LINCOLN, Neb. — Local Black police officer Dante Jackson was rendered unrecognizable to his coworkers within seconds of removing his uniform in the precinct locker room yesterday, multiple gun-wielding officers confirm.

“I normally wait until I get home before changing out of my uniform,” said Ofc. Jackson while applying ointment to his wrists where his coworkers handcuffed him. “The last time I changed in the locker room, the same exact thing happened… but I was running late to meet my wife for dinner and didn’t have time to stop home. Less than a minute after taking off my uniform, I was tackled, tased and beaten by my colleagues, all while my partner had his gun pressed on my head while yelling, ‘Give me a reason! Give me a fucking reason!’ It took a few minutes before they realized it was me. The chief really chewed my ass out for that one.”

Others in the department admitted to making the mistake first-hand.

“I keep telling him he can’t just keep walking around the precinct out of uniform, looking like some Black Lives Matter terrorist,” says Jackson’s partner Alex Melweather. “If I had a dollar for every time I mistakenly pulled my gun on him, I’d put in for early retirement. Seriously. There was one time when I was picking up my kids from school, and I saw some thug talking to my daughter. So naturally, I did what any father would do: I shot him twice in the chest before announcing I was a police officer. Once I cuffed him, I saw the bulletproof vest and realized, ‘Oh, shit! It’s Jackson!’”

Higher-ups in the department insist this is just a normal part of police culture.

“Listen, these types of incidents wouldn’t keep happening if Ofc. Jackson, and others like him, would make it easier on the rest of us by just keeping their uniforms on 24 hours a day. It’s in their best interest to keep it on when they sleep and when they shower, because you never know when we might bust in,” Lincoln Police Chief Melvin Walters stated. “This job is dangerous, and with the current climate in this country, it’s too hard for us to tell the difference between our fellow officers and the killers who want us dead, if they’re out of uniform.”

Following the incident, Ofc. Jackson updated his will and made his own funeral arrangements after being assigned to go undercover for one eight-hour shift.

An Open Letter To the Developers of That Video Game Who Promised I Wouldn’t Last More Than 2 Minutes Before Busting

Posted on by Dan Rice

Dear Smut Developers,

I am writing in regards to an ad for your product that I saw while trying to Putlocker season 2 of “Succession.” An ad I regard to be problematic. It was the one that features a sexy female Viking elf performing cunnilingus on Louis from “Family Guy.” The artwork was stunning, no complaint there. What I took umbrage with the copy, which read as follows:

“If You Play This Game You WILL Bust in Less Than 2 Minutes.”

Now, I’ve played your game, and rest assured I found it to be highly bustable material indeed. I’m something of a connoisseur when it comes to busting to video games. I’ve busted to everything from “Leisure Suit Larry” to “Crash Bandicoot.” To quote Ray Parker Jr, “Bustin’ makes me feel good.” And I felt good busting to your game, “Slutquest Legacy.” That’s not the issue.

The issue is your jackass marketing team thinking it’s any of their gosh darn business how long it takes me to bust.

I understand your need to boast about your product’s high bustability. Really, it’s the wording I have a problem with. The message I believe you are trying to convey, “Gentlemen, this game makes for some solid busting,” is fair and, in my personal opinion, well-earned. But by applying a time frame to the whole thing you are, perhaps inadvertently, establishing a dangerous precedent for what is or is not “normal busting.”

Busting is a sacred and highly personalized experience. It is a ritual made for one unless you’re Louis C.K. There is no “normal” time frame and implying there is leaves quick cummers and marathon busters alike feeling alienated and unheard.

The words of your ad copy echoed in my mind, souring every sweet bust with it’s taunting demeanor.

I became competitive. I started to engage with your product for longer than was healthy. It began to affect my work and interpersonal relationships. Cranking it longer than 120 to your digital fuckscape became my all-consuming goal. I tried switching hands and changing lubricants. I even tried applying a balm that the man at the gas station assured me possessed botanical numbing agents. Nothing worked.

By day nine I had forgotten how to eat.

Then one day, shivering and malnourished, it happened. All of my hard work paid off. That, and the fact that I don’t think my body was making a whole lot of blood at that point. I lasted a whole 2:39 playing your stupid game and I’ve got the webcam footage to prove it.

You hear that, you bastards?! I won. I wrote and published this whole letter just to make you read those words. I won and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Regards,
Joe Consumer

P.S. Are you guys hiring busters at the moment? I haven’t checked my email in a few weeks but I’m sure I’ve been fired.

Everyone at Twenty One Pilots Drive-In Show Wearing Seatbelt

Posted on by Ted Pillow

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — Everyone attending last night’s Twenty One Pilots drive-in concert at Metlife Stadium kept their seatbelt on throughout the entire show, confirmed venue management at the first stop on the band’s worldwide “Frick the Rules!” tour.

“Dude, I was so psyched for Twenty One Pilots — I showed up all buckled up and ready to rock. I wasn’t sure how loud they’d be, so I bought a few different types of construction grade ear muffs for protection as well,” said Chazz Edmundson, a diehard fan of the band. “They played all their biggest hits, and the show was so sick, I didn’t even mind that the band ordered venue security to come over and give me a ticket for an expired inspection sticker. Safety first!”

While drivers were asked on arrival to turn off their vehicles and remain there until the show’s conclusion, that didn’t stop Twenty One Pilots’ rabid fanbase from strapping in for the duration of their two-hour set.

“The Skeleton Clique totally brought it tonight!” frontman Tyler Joseph shouted as he walked off the stage, referring to the band’s fanbase. “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen 10,000 maniacs drumming on their steering wheels with their seatbelts on and their hands in the proper 10 and 2 position. But, you know, we can always count on our fans to deliver — hell, the show was so crazy, we actually had to stop playing for a while because a rowdy gang of guys wouldn’t stop revving their PT Cruisers.”

However, not everyone enjoyed the unique performance.

“That was the lamest concert I’ve ever been into in my life,” sighed Dave Benson, a 44-year-old who brought his 12-year-old son Eddie to the show. “And that’s coming from a guy who saw Candlebox open for Bush in 2001. Seeing all those pathetic nerds bopping around in their minivans was unbearable. Thank god Eddie is so embarrassed by me that he ‘made’ me sit in the backseat the whole time — I just took a nap and hoped that by the time I woke up, my son would finally be in his violent, self-destructive teenage phase.”

After the show, stagehands loaded Twenty One Pilots into the child-sized car seats of their tour bus while the band demanded more juice in their sippy cups, as per their rider.

Man On His Deathbed Still Saving Fully Charged Meter Attack

Posted on by Claire Brown

ROCHESTER, Minn. — Dying 80-year-old man Rex Titus revealed to friends and family today that, after a decade of battling heart disease, he is still saving a fully charged meter attack “for the right moment,” according to those familiar with the situation.

“I first charged my meter back in 1942. I thought I might use it against the Nazis in the war, but the right moment just never came up,” said Titus, coughing up bits of phlegm as he glowed a sickly yet powerful red-orange. “I was just a careless young kid. I didn’t know what to do with my life, or my meter attack. So, I figured I’d save it until I really needed it. I’m still holding onto it; I don’t think I could handle the regret of using it. Not for ethical reasons or anything, but I would be tormented with guilt if I let off my fireball and then needed to zone while talking to my wife and children.”

Titus’s wife, Lulu, was sorrowful when asked about her husband’s wish to preserve his meter.

“I’ve known Rex since, my Lord, I can’t even remember when,” Lulu Titus explained. “Not once in my life have I seen him use that dang meter attack. I don’t know how he does it. He told me he was saving it until marriage, but we’ve been together for 40 years, and I haven’t seen him so much as enter the first few inputs of his hyper combo. You know how men are — they like to bottle everything up, and release it when they’re trying to move in close against characters with strong air game.”

Titus’s grandson, Leehigh, expressed confusion at his father’s reluctance to use his meter attack.

“If I had a meter attack, I’d use it as soon as I could. My pop-pop says that’s immature,” said Leehigh. “Sometimes I see boys in the locker room at school, sending gigantic tendrils of ice up from the floor in front of them, or vanishing into dark portals that allow them to teleport to the other side of the school, laughing and bragging about their attacks. My pop-pop says that there’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, and that the longer I hold onto it, the more damage it’ll do when I’m finally ready to use it; he tells me I have to be worried about something called ‘true combo potential.’”

At press time, hospital staff assured the public that there is no concern of Titus accidentally releasing his meter attack at the moment of his death, since all doctors and nurses are trained in life-saving parrying techniques.

Like this article? Check out our podcast! The Hard Drive Podcast is available on all podcast apps.

Historically Shit-Sucking Gamer Thinks He’s Battle Royale God After Unknowingly Beating First Round of Bots

Posted on by Jeremy Kaplowitz

GREENSBORO, N.C. — Local gamer Harry Olsen, who has sucked shit at every single video game he has ever played, is convinced that he is a battle royale god after winning his first game of Spellbreak unknowingly against 42 bots.

“I’ve been god-awful at every single video game I have ever played… but I guess I’m a fucking Spellbreak god?!” Olsen said to friends, according to those familiar with the situation. “It’s crazy — the mechanics are basically the exact same as pretty much every other battle royale game I’ve played, and like I said, I’m fucking trash at all those. But I guess, for whatever reason, something clicked. I won my first game with fifteen kills. I better hope this ends up being the next big game, because I’m basically Ninja.”

Olsen’s longtime friends and teammates expressed skepticism.

“He said the exact same thing when he played mobile PUBG for the first time. Kept mowing down default skin guys standing completely still with names like Roger57891725,” said Carl Faulk, a mid-tier player who Olsen describes as “the most incredible gamer” he has ever seen. “It’s gonna suck for the first few games, when he’s giving constant advice about how to strafe properly or whatever, but a few zero kill games should drop that confidence back down to tolerable.”

At press time, Olsen was debating whether to keep playing Spellbreak or just let his K/D ratio sit at 15 forever.

Like this article? Check out our podcast! The Hard Drive Podcast is available on all podcast apps.

Since It Was Their Drummer Who Was Creepy To Women, Can I Still Listen To Their Acoustic Stuff?

Posted on by Ish Gupta

Listen babe, no one in this scene is a bigger ally than me. When news breaks about a band member’s sexual misconduct with their female fans, I take all my posters down. You can bet I don’t include them in my listening rotations after that either. Hell, my “driving around my hometown aimlessly” playlist is practically empty at this point. And I do this selfless act of sacrifice for women everywhere, free of charge.

But even a proud scene-feminist such as myself is really struggling with this one. I would never support a band member that’s creepy to women. But if it happens to be their drummer, and they happen to have a really killer acoustic EP, I can still listen to it, right?

Before we jump to any conclusions about my moral compass, let’s take a look at the numbers here. Across four albums and two EPs, their drummer was not on 12 songs. And those 12 songs aren’t that bad! They’re also not that good. They’re okay. They don’t have drums.

It’s not like I’m supporting the real creep here. When I saw them in 2014, I elbowed a preteen girl in the nose to catch the guitarist’s pick. I barely harmed any children to catch the drummer’s stick.

All I’m saying is that even though the guitarist, singer, bassist, producer, booking agent, sound guy, and photographer all knew about their drummer sending pictures of his dick to 17-year-olds for a decade, we can’t hold it against them. That’s for a judge to do. So until they’re all outed as predators, let’s sway back and forth to the chill sounds of their acoustic stuff. Just a singer, two guitars, an acoustic bass, and some light percussion… oh, Goddamnit!

2020 Presidential Debate to Include Question on What Constitutes “Real” Post-Hardcore

Posted on by Clara Endres

CLEVELAND — Moderators for 2020’s first Presidential debate reportedly added a question regarding an issue that’s been hotly contested since the early/mid-2000s: What defines “real” post-hardcore?

“Although Bernie Sanders captured the attention of many of America’s youngest voters with his progressive ideas, his use of pg.99’s ‘Punk Rock in the Wrong Hands’ as his campaign anthem proved too divisive to earn him the Democratic party nomination,” reported CNN’s Kate Sullivan. “Biden was definitely a safer bet, but his knowledge of ‘alternative’ music is fairly limited, so his camp has reached out to Beto O’Rourke to help prep for this question… and news of that seemed to upset a lot of progressives who labeled Beto a ‘complete poser piece of shit’ during his campaign.”

Derrick Fisher, a stalwart of Washington, D.C.’s original hardcore scene and proprietor of Sailin’ On Records, believes it’s time for a president to finally clarify where they stand.

“Look, at this point, the term ‘post-hardcore’ has essentially been rendered meaningless by mainstream-leaning bands that popped up way after Fugazi defined the genre,” contended Fisher. “I’ve grown pretty cynical over the years… well, I guess even more cynical than I was in my 20s, so party politics are kind of silly to me. Whoever’s willing to draw a line in the sand on this topic, my vote’s going to them.”

Of course, fans of more accessible bands sometimes labeled “post-hardcore” and other times “screamo” want to have their voices heard as well. Katy Stephens, mother of two and Warped Tour devotee, is one such fan.

“I’ve lived in Minnesota all my life, so I’m used to getting looked over, being the resident of a so-called ‘fly-over’ state,” Stephens stated. “But when I got to see all of my favorite bands live, and even had one of them ask me to hang out after, I gushed to them at their merch booth — I really felt seen. If Joe or the orange fella are willing to get bands like Hawthorne Heights and Chiodos officially recognized as post-hardcore, well, that will certainly help me make up my mind when it comes time to cast my vote.”

When asked about how they plan on preparing for the debate, Trump’s team said they reached out to a number of prominent musicians working in the subgenre and affiliated scenes, including Jesse Lacey of Brand New fame. Although few of the musicians contacted have responded, Trump was quoted as saying he believed Lacey had “done nothing wrong.”

We Interviewed Noam Chomsky but He Only Let Us Ask “Fuck Marry Kill” Questions

Posted on by Ted Pillow

We recently sat down with renowned intellectual Noam Chomsky for an illuminating discussion on political systems, linguistics, and the state of the world.

Unfortunately, the 91-year-old showed up to the Zoom interview 45 minutes late, non-stop chugged White Claws throughout our brief talk, and insisted we only ask him “Fuck Marry Kill” questions.

The Hard Times: We are in the midst of a global pandemic, while also reckoning with the damaging effects of climate change and racial inequality. What is the greatest threat facing the United States right now?
Chomsky: Well, I guess I’d kill inequality, marry the pandemic, and raw dog climate change. That’s a tough one, though.
I think you may have misheard, Mr. Chomsky. I was hoping for your thoughts on these interconnected catastrophes.
Didn’t my publicist tell you? I’m only doing “Fuck Marry Kill” questions. Let’s go, give me a good one broski.
You’re known as the father of modern linguistics, have written over 100 books, and are one of the most cited scholars alive. Surely, you don’t want t-
Fuck Chevy Chase, marry Steve Martin, kill Martin Short. That was the “Three Amigos.” Hit me again. Let’s go, motherfucker.
You’ve got to be kidding. I was hoping I could turn this into a book deal…
C’mon, bro! Hurry up! These edibles are about to kick in and I’ve got a virtual Post Malone concert in 20 minutes.
You are one of the most respected and celebrated thinkers of our age. Why are you doing this?
These are the end times. Fuck Maryy Kill let’s go! 
Jesus Christ. Alright…uh, fuck marry kill: capitalism, socialism, communism?
Boooooring! Okay fine, I guess that’s allowed. Well I’m definitely killing capitalism. Let me settle down with socialism and hit communism from the back.
Ew. Okay: Derrida, Foucault, Barthes?
Fuck that. Don’t you want people to read this shit? How about: Marry Mark Hoppus, fuck Tom DeLonge, kill Travis Barker.
I can’t believe I stayed up all night reading “Hegemony or Survival” for this. Okay, fuck marry kill: the Austin Powers movies?
Hell yeah! You’ve got it now. Okay, I’m definitely marrying the first one because it’s a brilliant deconstruction of spy movies and 60s culture. I’ll kill “Goldmember”…and I’ll fuck “The Spy Who Shagged Me” because Fat Bastard is totally hilarious. Get in my belly!
Thanks for your time, Mr. Chomsky. Enjoy the Post Malone concert.
Kill the rich, fuck the middle class, marry the poor! Chomsky out!