thehardtimes

Hard Digest April 27: Early Access The Toadies, Viral Videos, Kentucky Derby, Dads, and More

Added 2024-04-28 00:00:03 +0000 UTC

Parent Playing Animal-Themed Playlist at Children’s Party Beginning to Think Toadies Song Not About Possums

SAN DIEGO – Local parent Nicholas Klein began to question the playlist he made for his kid’s wild animal-themed birthday party after finally paying attention to the lyrics from The Toadies single “Possum Kingdom,” Sources confirmed.

“I just thought, you know, I’d find a bunch of songs with animal names in the title. Plus the band was called The Toads or something,” said Klein. “I figured they were like The Wiggles or something, just making some fun rock songs for kids. I mean it all starts out fine enough about a walk around a lake. You know, Sammy loves lakes. But then it started talking about lovers and stuff and I got pretty anxious. They asked if I wanted to die like 10 times. And that’s when my wife started screaming ‘Alexa pause!’ over and over again and pulled me into the garage to call me a moron.”

Autumn Liston, a six-year-old attending the party, was particularly pleased by the song.

“I love rock music, it rocks,” said Liston while throwing up the devil horns and jumping around in a circle. “It was especially cool when my dad kept yelling ‘turn this off, turn this off.’ When he gets made his face gets really red, and I thought he was about to explode. Then I saw my dad push Sammy’s dad, it was so funny. That’s what rock music does to you though.”

Jeremy Mayo, a ‘90s Alternative Rock Expert, says new parents often don’t understand the themes of ’90s-era rock songs.

“I’ve seen it happen hundreds of times. People put together a throwback playlist for a wedding or a kids’ party, they think, ‘Hey, Semi Charmed life. That’s upbeat. That’s fun.’ And suddenly grandma is singing about going to Bone Town high on meth. Or ‘Oh, Basket Case, I love baskets. And we’re a cooky crazy family,’ and then they’re doing karaoke at their daughter’s sweet sixteen telling everyone about how they solicited services from a prostitute who was referred to them by their very unprofessional therapist,” said Mayo. “You don’t even want to know how bad it is on the 4th of July. People will throw The Presidents of the United States of America on anything willy nilly and then realize too late that what they thought was an ode to summer fruit is actually about finger-banging.

Nicholas is reportedly looking forward to the rest of the playlist now that he’s removed all ‘90s alt rock songs. He expects to have no problem with “Black Mambo,” “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” and “Tusk.”

So You Created Your First Viral Video, Here’s All You Need To Know about Recycling the Same Premise Hundreds of Times and Never Growing as a Person

BY ROBERT JOHN SCUCCI

Congratulations. You finally went viral! That cell phone video of you slipping in a puddle of Alfredo sauce at the grocery store took off so fast— as if the lightning forcefully escaped that bottle of Prego that once held it captive before it shot into the stratosphere and took you along with it. You’re about to play with the big boys now that your video hit three million views in a week.

But with great viral fame comes great viral responsibility… to never grow as a person as you continue to find new ways to get the attention that you never knew you so desperately craved before that fateful trip down aisle eight.

You’ve got a long road ahead of you, but it doesn’t have to be a difficult one. By simply peeling back the scales of your lizard brain, you too can lean into the premise that spawned your success by happenstance and make it your entire identity.

No pen. No paper. No character development is required.

Just keep slipping on that sauce and yell out the catchphrase that happened entirely by accident on the first video (“OH! It’s slippy!”) until they find you on the floor of your unfurnished apartment, half decomposed next to your ring light and green screen setup three years from now when your channel gets demonetized and you lose your paid partnership with that shaving company or whatever. But by then you’ll have met Jake Paul that one time and almost say hi to him, and that’s pretty sick.

As you get a little more experimental when your viewership eventually plateaus, just carry out the same premise, but make it a little more edgy. Go to the store naked. Buy one of those lapel microphones and take your bit on the road. Make strangers uncomfortable and ask them hard questions. And then do the sauce thing hoping somebody recognizes you when the police come because according to most common decency laws, you’re just harassing people who are trying to walk to work for internet clout. Come on, now. This is your calling!

This is why you were put here on this Earth.

You should thank your lucky stars that your digital footprint will eventually prevent you from getting a steady job because being the Slippy Sauce man is the essence of your being, for at least another couple of weeks.

Animal Rights Win: Injured Jockeys Will Be Shot At This Year’s Kentucky Derby

BY CASEY SMITH

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — Officials at Churchill Downs announced that, for the first time ever, jockeys participating in this year’s Kentucky Derby will be shot on the track if they are injured during the race, bloodthirsty horse racing enthusiasts confirmed.

“When it comes to racehorses, I’m the balance between life and death. The killer of worlds. I’ve replaced the black hooded robe and scythe for candy-colored polos, khaki cargo shorts, a handgun, and large white shoes that prevent my abbreviated disk from flaring up,” said David Hunts, resident horse executioner of the Kentucky Derby. “Over the decades I’ve grown so used to shooting 3-year-old horses that the idea of shooting five-foot tall, hundred-pound jockeys in their twenties seemed out of this world. I think the people in the stands are really going to love it. I’ve already had to shoot a few jockeys during some practice rounds and those guys pretty much explode when shot.”

As far as how the jockeys feel, they’re vehemently against the decision when it comes to their possible murder on the track.

“We fear for our lives now, honestly,” stated a jockey who requested to remain anonymous for a wide range of reasons. “I hid a fancy Derby hat and cocktail dress in my locker if I was feeling bloated or having gas the day of the race. Since horses can be put down over colic, I’m frantically checking my anus in a mirror to make sure it’s not shifting. If I’m still feeling unsure, I’ll throw on that big ass hat and dress to hopefully disappear into the sea of wealthy twenty-somethings drinking Mint Juelps in the stands”.

The sports betting world has been rattled in regard to the new likelihood of race outcomes.

“This ‘shooting of jockeys’ rule adds a whole new dynamic to our already questionable and complicated world of sports betting” noted legendary bookie Nancy “Whistles” Fazzoli. “I’ve seen decades of controversy, horses failing drug tests, mysterious murders, and horses stripped of wins, so making the jockeys fair game not only makes me feel better because the horses used to be always at fault, but now we can easily make the jockeys a chess piece in our corruption.”

At press time, the positive reaction to jockeys being killed has led to Churchill Downs to enact a new “Executioner for a day” program for teenagers looking to break into the field.

We Sat Down With Our Dad Because We Were Feeling Too Good About Ourselves for a Second

BY MALIA SIMON

This week at The Hard Times we were just starting to feel okay with who we are and where we’re at in our lives, and we wanted to put a stop to all that immediately before it got out of hand. To that end, we thought: who better to sit down with for a 20 minute interview than our dad? We didn’t come prepared with any questions because we figured he’d take the lead, and we were not mistaken.

The Hard Times: Hi Dad, it’s good to see you.

Dad: Glad you could take time out of your “busy schedule” to see me. Ha-ha! That’s a joke.

Are you saying we don’t do anything all day?

Just joking. But yes. So, tell me what this is about. You’re still writing for The Hard Tribunal, I take it?

Close enough.

How great, but have you ever considered working for a magazine I’ve heard of, like Esquire or The New Yorker? Now those are good magazines. My old coworker Mark’s brother’s dogsitter used to answer phones in an office just two blocks from the New Yorker. I’ll ask her to drop off your resume. What was her name—Cheryl? Carol?

The interview was paused for 3 minutes as Dad shuffled through various women’s names.

That’s alright, Dad. We’re good.

You know, it’s okay to be lost and directionless in young adulthood.

We never said we were.

…as long as you’re learning new skills, like training for a half-marathon. Mark’s son is training for a half-marathon.

We’re not looking to run a half-marathon.

Right, right, you love those cookies too much for that. Do you remember when you ate so many cookies at Aunt Jolene’s Christmas party that you had explosive diarrhea and made the whole family have to leave early?

We didn’t until you mentioned it.

I have to say, I’m getting the sense you might be annoyed at me for something.

Well—

I’m really sorry you feel that way. I was just being honest. You can handle honesty, right? Choose wisely because there’s only one answer that will earn my respect here.

Let’s just move on.

The interview was paused again to endure 7 minutes of stifling silence.

So–

So–

What was that?

No, you go.

You know, gun violence is up by 20% in your city.

Oh?

Yes.

Admittedly, we ran out the clock on the rest of the interview by just commenting on various items around the room and getting him on a rant about the heating system. But we left having achieved our goal of feeling completely emotionally drained and like a shell of what we were earlier this week. We later learned in a followup from Dad that he thought this was a great conversation and he can’t wait to see it in print.