thehardtimes

Hard Digest August 11: Early Access Kamala Harris, Stephen King, Band Chemistry, and More

Added 2024-08-12 00:00:10 +0000 UTC

Kamala Harris Leans Into Cool Aunt Image by Promising Junior Staffers Can Drink Beers in White House Basement

WASHINGTON — Presumptive Democratic nominee Kamala Harris attempted to boost her perception as a “cool aunt” by announcing that if elected she will let junior staff members drink beers in the basement of the White House, sources who like to party confirmed.

“I realize there is a perception with some young voters that since I was a prosecuting attorney I’m very strict, but if elected this November you’ll see I’m not a typical president, I’m like a cool government official who lets their junior staff members drink Bud Light Lime in the basement of the White House,” said Harris while recording a TikTok dance. “Look, junior staffers are going to drink, I get it. But if they drink here at least I know where they are and that they’re not out getting invited to Matt Gaetz’s office.”

While current staff members appreciate the idea, many claim that it was not really necessary to hide their drinking around President Biden.

“Yeah, at first we would sneak a few brews in an empty office or even just behind his back but as time went on he didn’t even seem to notice when we would pound one down right in front of him,” explained current staffer Kyle Durban. “It became a game to see who could get the most shitfaced in front of him. One time Brayden dared me to get Biden his morning coffee while we funneled a sixer standing right in front of him and all he said was ‘You boys seem thirsty. Why don’t you go down to the soda pop shop and get yourself a malted’ then he threw a nickel at us.”

Republican strategist James Lockland says Harris making this announcement is a desperate attempt to make her seem cooler than Trump.

“Kamala is flailing in the polls and has no real policy agenda so she is attempting to win young voters just by being the younger and cooler candidate. She wants us to think she will let her junior staff members drink in the White House while they’re working but with Trump those staffers won’t even need to do any work,” said Lockland. “As with his first term, nothing will really get done in the White House and junior staff members won’t have much to do other than cleaning ketchup stains from the Oval Office carpet and changing out the air fresheners.”

At press time, Harris had made an announcement that she just ordered an air hockey table and “one of those arcade machines that plays ‘Galaga’ and ‘Ms. Pac Man.’”

The Next Stephen King? I Got Really High and Don’t Remember Writing This Shit

By Sidney Conant

Stephen King’s legacy as a horror visionary is as far-reaching as it is undeniable, but it should be fair to say that he, like all of us, harbors a bag of bones in the closet. There was a time in his career when his addictions got the better of him and he ended up creating works that he can’t recall putting to paper. Is it possible that there exists a dumber, yet equally attractive author out there ready to dethrone the King? I got zonked out of my gourd last week and typed up my own book, but I don’t remember writing a word of this nonsense.

I honestly don’t know how it happened. One minute my lard-ass was sitting in front of a bag of frozen tater tots that I figured I could just warm up in my mouth, and cradling a martini made with some uppers and stuff that I scored off a buddy of mine. The next minute I was lying face-down in front of the printer, splayed out like I’d been hit by a minivan on the shoulder of Route 5, gradually becoming buried under a sea of paper and ink that I sure as hell am way too unemployed to replenish.

I somehow wrote a horror story when I was high on that green mile, typing away at the cool ranch Doritos-stained Bluetooth keyboard connected to my phone. And honestly? Reading what came out of the labyrinthian hedge maze of my mind terrified me, but, you know, in like a manly way. Not because it was scary or anything, but because it’s frightening just how much it fucking sucks.

Seriously, this thing is an incomprehensible mess of names and timelines, and even though it’s over 1,000 pages long, the ending still feels rushed. Also, tell me the truth: how many characters would you say are allowed to be writers in one story? Because I’m counting 17, and even though nine of them are women, they’re written only to be sex objects–and not even hot ones.

I could only make it to the part where I introduced the villain 50 pages in before I had to give up entirely. Honestly, a cobbler whose shoes compel people to walk onto active railways? Please. No one’ll be quaking in their boots over that.

I wish I could tuck this all away into a mental lockbox, but unfortunately, that’s impossible. Apparently, I already posted this garbage to Reddit, and people are obsessed with it; I keep getting DMs asking me things like, “What’s the deal with the 17-author cage match?” or, “SEQUEL WHEN?!”

Shit, I guess we’ll never know now, because I’m sober for good.

Band That Switches Instruments Accidentally All End Up on Same Bass After Wrong Turn

By Joe Rumrill

SPARKS, Nev. — Members of longtime garage-punk outfit The Gargantuans, known for switching instruments between songs, ruined a show by all landing on the same bass at the same time, a gawking gaggle of looky-loos confirmed.

“I guess we all must have looked at the setlist wrong, because once our opening song ended, we all took a wrong turn and ended up behind the bass. Now we’re in a big mangled mess under the same strap. It’s like, what’s the point of even going over the hand turn-signals at practice if we’re not going to use them in a potential collision like this?” asked Gargantuans member Trig Lippley while continually shoving another member’s elbow out of his mouth. “Hell, everyone laughed at me when I voted for us all to wear horns attached to our clothes to honk in case of emergencies like this one, but I’m looking pretty smart now. Plus, I’ve always believed that a good handful of our songs could use a good ‘ah-ooh-gah’ every now and then, anyhow. It’d be a win-win!”

Onlookers in the crowd couldn’t help but rubberneck towards the accident.

“It was actually pretty inspiring to see them all eventually come to terms with their mistake, and put aside their egos to make the situation work as a cohesive unit. One guy handled the frets, another plucked the strings,” mused newly minted Gargantuans fan Hedy Freidl. “And, as if by magic, the other two respectively took over the dazed look of a perpetually lost dullard and valid feeling of extreme imposter syndrome that every full-time bassist needs. They all knew their stuff, and used it to Frankenstein together the ultra-bassist.”

The venue traffic cop, Sargent Murray Hankland, decided to resign after failing to arrive at the scene in a timely manner.

“I’ve been the stage traffic official here at the Loving Cup for twelve years, and I can’t believe I was so asleep at the wheel, so to speak, for this infraction. This is the type of thing we venue traffic cops, which I feel I must mention is an actual job at all music venues, have nightmares about,” griped Hankland while handing in his gun and badge to an overwhelmingly confused bartender. “If only I hadn’t been too busy busting that tall guy in the audience for their illegal merge in front of a 4′ 11″ woman in the crowd, I could have prevented this whole thing. Well, I guess it’s back to the actual highway for me. ”

At press time, the mishap culminated in all four Gargantuans members reaching down to sip from the same beer and clonking their heads together with a humorous coconut-like sound.