thehardtimes

Hard Digest March 1: Sigur Rós, Early Access Dashboard Confessional, Baconator, and More

Added 2024-03-02 01:00:05 +0000 UTC

ASL Interpreter in Way Over Their Head After Hired to Work Upcoming Sigur Rós US Tour

DETROIT — Local American sign language interpreter Luke Phisher felt completely overwhelmed after being hired to work the upcoming US tour for the Icelandic band Sigur Rós, confirmed sources who wondered if they still had time to back out of the commitment.

“That’s the last time I lie about being fluent in North Germanic, West Scandinavian, and completely made-up languages on my resume,” said Phisher while checking out Sigur Rós’ music for the first time in his life. “I’m not sure what’d be quicker: Learning an entire foreign language from scratch in a mere six months and the ability to translate it to crowds of thousands using nothing but my hands, or just replacing Sigur Rós lyrics to those of popular Jock Jams songs instead. Probably the latter. I’m thinking the song ‘Svefn-g-englar’ could just be the lyrics to ‘Whoomp! (There It Is).’ And maybe I’ll swap the words to ‘Með suð í eyrum’ with something from C&C Music Factory. Hopefully no one notices.”

Members of Sigur Rós admitted they run into this issue frequently.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to comprehend lyrics like ‘Ég græt og ég græt, aftengdur, ÓNýttur heili settur á brjóst og mataður af svefn,’” said lead singer Jón Þór “Jónsi” Birgisson. “The last time we toured the US we couldn’t even find anyone willing to be our ASL interpreter. Starting to think no one speaks Hopelandic in America or in the rest of the world for that matter. If they just taught it in elementary and middle school, this wouldn’t be a problem whatsoever. This is primarily why America is behind the rest of the modern world. That and healthcare, gun violence, and wealth inequality.”

Language experts seemed to agree that ASL interpreters struggled to work foreign bands’ shows.

“This seems to happen frequently when non-English-speaking bands tour the US,” said linguist Brenda Livenstein. “In fact, the last time Rammstein toured America, several ASL interpreters straight up quit midway through their first show. Turns out, it had nothing to do with the language barrier though. It was more about them feeling unsafe around 30-foot flames being propelled at them from all angles of the stage. They all excelled at the sign language part though. That’s a plus.”

At press time, Phisher had already called out sick for Sigur Rós’ first American tour date despite it not occurring until September.

Photo by Alterna2

Chris Carrabba Still Finding Ex-Girlfriend’s Hair Around Apartment

BY BRETT MCCABE

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Dashboard Confessional frontman Chris Carrabba reported he is still finding his ex-girlfriend’s hair all over his apartment despite having moved across the country numerous times, confirmed sources close to the situation.

“I don’t know how this is still happening. It’s been two full decades since I saw my ex Emmy but whenever I’m sweeping up, doing laundry, or even rearranging things in the crawl space I find clumps of her hair everywhere. I feel like this might be some sort of witch’s curse,” said Carrabba. “We were remodeling and tearing down a wall and instead of insulation, it was just hair. It must have been at least 50 pounds of hair, I couldn’t believe it. I remember Emmy saying she donated to Locks of Love back in the day but this is coming out of manufactured insulation with the Pink Panther stamped on it.”

Carraba’s wife Bonnie was the first to identify who the hair belongs to but remains baffled about how it keeps ending up in their home.

“This has been happening as long as Chris and I have been together. I thought it was some of Chris’ hair at first but when I looked closer I could recognize the dyed black hair with pink tips from the old photos of his ex. Now, I know Chris isn’t cheating, but this woman must shed like a snake and be sneaking into our home while we are away or something,” said Mrs. Carrabba. “I was joking and saying I was expecting to find some molted skin with crazy eyeliner and a lower back butterfly tattoo but then I found these fur pellets that I simply cannot explain.”

The home inspector who appraised the property made note of the findings and admitted to being alarmed by the amount of hair he saw in the basement, attic, and even the shed out back.

“It looked a little odd between the sheetrock and whatnot but everything passed the heating test. I’ve seen plenty of weird stuff in my day, hundreds of pounds of hair is nothing new. There was this place over on Maple Street, I swear on my life, I thought they had a carpet in their finished basement, but it was all toenail clippings,” said Henry Sult of Gleason Home Inspections, insisting that the value of the home was priced correctly. “But yeah, I gave them some tips about home security options with 24/7 video monitoring to see if they can pinpoint the source of the hair, that’s the best I can do.”

At press time, Carrabba confirmed the heart he had stolen in 2006 was found in a storage space outside of Gainesville.

Photo by Turtona.

Food Review: Heartiness Of Pretzel Baconator Unable To Satiate Existential Malaise

BY B.S. MITCHELL

Since 2007, the Baconator has been a universal staple on Wendy’s menus around the world. More recently, in late 2023, the brilliant minds in the test kitchen saw fit to upgrade the Baconator with two big, beautiful, voluptuous soft pretzel buns. Between the juxtaposition of two symmetrical beef patties and six asymmetrical bacon strips, this may as well be the sandwich artist’s La Gioconda.

Or was it? I sought to find out, so I did something my chronic ennui seldom compels me to do: drive a few minutes to my local Wendy’s. Arterial thoroughfare roads might be the death knell of meaningful human connection and community. They might be a perverse defilement and bastardization of nature, but beyond these roads lies the apotheosis of Americana.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally arrived and placed my order. A combo with large fries, a Junior Vanilla Frosty, and a Pretzel Baconator with mushrooms. I sat alone, at the corner table, front row view of the parking lot’s interminable solitude. Much to my dismay, my first bite into the pretzel bun gave way to a grand mirage. Nothing more than a mere parlor trick, an illusory facade. A simulacrum.

A transitory hint of soft pretzel, giving way to a doughy void of a flavor profile. As I bit deeper and deeper, none of the Baconator’s 1,050 calories were enough to fill the insatiable chasm in my heart. No sublimation momentarily brought forth would ever be enough. A faint, ephemeral, pathetically minuscule trace of the bliss that’s eluded you your entire life. The sort of bliss and equanimity you’ve always craved, but intuitively feel you don’t deserve. Did you ever deserve it?

Have any of us deserved it? Was I the consumer, or was the sandwiched pile of mutilated flesh on my tray a mirror, reflecting our inexorable consumption? Our capitulation and acquiescence towards an isolating oblivion? Our inevitable collective commodification into hollow artifice? Chewed up and digested down into putrid, rotting waste? Blemished by the spatters of blood that invariably stain us all? Before long, my lonesome silence and emptiness was filled.

If only for a moment. The LED lights flickered and dimmed to a harsh vignette. I called for the cashier, but no one was behind the register; the cry went unheard beneath the ever-growing crescendo of moos and squeals. A disembodied finger arose from an abandoned cup of chili behind me, gesticulating towards a table farther away. I turned around as soon as it tapped me on the shoulder. Beyond the table was a message in the window, written in tomato paste or another congealing red fluid, illustrating the indomitable truth in two words…

“NOTHING LASTS.”

Final Review Score: 2.5 Stars

Ah Jeez: Audiophile Stuck in Gramophone Again

BY JOE RUMRILL

PITTSBURGH — Self-proclaimed audiophile Klein Drexel dismayed his longtime partner yesterday after getting himself stuck in the horn of his vintage Victrola yet again, sources confirmed amid the warm snaps and pops of a 78 rpm record playing as it happened.

“It may seem funny to you, but this has happened a few dozen times already and I’m frankly getting more than a little sick of it. Having to grab his little flailing legs as I try to pull him out is a total turn-off,” said Drexel’s girlfriend Katie McLefferts, before spitting on her hands, rubbing them together, and grasping Drexel’s calves. “The worst part is having to be so gentle and ginger with him as I yank, because he gets so miffed if the record skips. Say what you will about the evils of Spotify, but they certainly don’t make it so I have to pull my boyfriend out of a gigantic, old-timey metal cone every few days.”

Though he was hard to hear at the time, Drexel himself was reached for comment while in his predicament.

“Inconvenient as it may be, you gotta believe me that the acoustics in this horn are so good, it’s frankly quite glorious. I might not even want to be pulled out just yet! It’s just too beautiful! This! THIS is how big band music was meant to be heard, man! With your skull squeezed at the base of a gramophone cone,” said a muffled Drexel, totally oblivious to the exasperation of his long-suffering girlfriend. “If you ask me, it’s well worth the near-constant head trauma and inner ear damage! In fact, instead of pulling me out, can you throw on my copy of the Mississippi Mud Masher’s ‘Bring It On Home To Grandma’? Thanks!”

Not knowing the half of it, Drexel was inches away from falling into a literal Wonderland, just a bit deeper inside the Victrola.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t fall so far to make me late for my very important date with the queen!” said the little rabbit in a suit hiding just past Drexel’s head. “There is a surrealistic land of sound and music jussssst past where this guy was able to fall, and thank goodness I don’t have to set him forth on a crazy adventure today, and I can just go about my business as normal. Which is not very normal here, but weird, in fact. You’d understand if you saw the place, but again, that whole thing has been avoided now since the guy’s head is so big. Anyhow, like I said, I’m LATE!”

After the incident, Drexel vowed to finally make the switch to AirPods, but promptly swallowed and choked on them.

Opinion: I May Not Be a Very Good Paramedic, But All the People I Treat Think That I’m Really Funny

BY ADAM FROST-VENRICK

I’ve always sort of had twin passions: medicine and comedy. That’s why I trained to become a paramedic at the same time I started taking improv and stand-up classes at my local comedy club. I realized that one passion would never outweigh the other, and so I decided that I would combine them and become the first-ever paramedicomedian. So now, when I’m out there trying to restart hearts and administer Narcan, I know that I’m standing on the shoulders of giants like Amy Poehler and Paul F. Tompkins.

Now let me be frank. Some of the other paramedics I’ve worked with, who take a more no-nonsense approach to the job don’t care for my methods. They say that I’m “careless,” “sloppy” and “dangerous to be around.” And while yes, it is true that I don’t have the highest track record for getting my patients to the hospital while they’re still alive, almost everyone I treat (who still has a pulse) would have to admit that I treated them to the best medicine of all, laughter.

Granted, there have been a few drivers who have told me on no uncertain terms to “sit down and shut up,” when I try and do my tight five on my crazy ex-girlfriend and my father’s love of the Rolling Stones. But in those instances, I put on “The Dead Authors Podcast” or “Comedy Bang Bang” and we “bing a bong a bong Burbank” all the way to the Kaiser Permanente. I even once managed to get a guy we’d saved from an overdose to tell us the complete list of drugs he was on by using simple “yes and” methods.

And while I do love stand-up and improv (I’ve even tried to organize a hospital-wide improv troupe), I also do phenomenal character work. Everybody from burn victims to people with rectal hemorrhaging loves “Dr. Joseph P. Handsypants,” the old blind physician. He’s a real rascal.

Am I perfect? No. My object work needs some practice and I am currently being sued by multiple families who didn’t find “knock-knock/who’s there/not your grandma anymore” to be a funny joke. But I’m glad to know that when I gurney people through those hospital doors, they’re in tears, screaming: “Oh God, stop! Oh God, it hurts!” from all the laughter. They’re quite literally in stitches.

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Pajama Sam Players Dispute They’re ‘Not Real Gamers’ and ‘It Is Bedtime’

BY RHIANNON SHAW

PHILADELPHIA — Fans of the popular point-and-click series Pajama Sam are fighting back at claims that their game of choice makes them inferior to other gamers, and that, furthermore, they should soon be putting on their own pajamas and going to bed.

“I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m not going to take this anymore. The stereotypes are so unfair,” said 8-year-old Jackson Smith. “Some people think that because I play Freddi Fish and Pajama Sam that means I’m not a ‘real gamer,’ whatever that means. It makes me so mad I could curse, if I knew any curse words.”

Jackson and his posse of other loyal Sam fans say enough is enough, and that they will only go to bed once their demands are met and they’ve finished this particularly hard puzzle involving freeing some carrots from a fridge.

“No, I’m not yawning! No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside is a really, really tough game. Why else would my dad have had to help me on a couple of things I got stuck on?” says Olivia Martinez, 9. “The lack of respect we receive from the gaming community and grown-ups in general is shocking. Did you know that 90% of players like me report being laughed at for trying to join in on conversations with our older siblings about speed-runs and optimum loadouts? And I’m rubbing my eyes because I’m angry, not because it’s 8pm.”

Parent Alicia Rhodes says the series of puzzle-solving games give her a rush of nostalgia whenever she sees her kids playing them, but that she is glad that they have thus far been rejected by the larger gaming community.

“I loved Putt-Putt and Pajama Sam when I was a kid. I think meeting Lightning in those formative years is why I’m attracted to skinny guys with high-pitched voices,” she said. “But, come on, as I’ve explained to them countless times, adult gamers are disgusting bearded perverts. Why my kids are so keen to be accepted by them is beyond me. And I know they’re only bringing this up now because I told them to finish up and go brush their teeth over 15 minutes ago.”

At press time, Jackson denied claims that he will forget all about this in the morning.

“No way! If anything I’ll be even more mad,” he yelled, as he was carried off to his bedroom.

Up-and-Coming Streamer Invests in Everything but a Personality

BY MIKE DIAZ

TORONTO — A young streamer in Toronto has used up all his savings to invest in all the necessary equipment to give him a jumpstart as a content creator except for an entertaining personality, reports confirmed.

Kevin Lockhart has purchased every piece of streaming equipment he read about online.

“I’ve always wanted to be a full-time streamer, so I’ve spent the last little while saving up for all the equipment I need to make that happen. I have every single product Elgato has ever released. Capture card, mic, mic arm, lights, webcam, green screen, audio mixer, teleprompter, I have it all. This stuff should really drive in the viewers I think,” said Lockhart.

Lockhart’s friends are worried he may have put his priorities on the wrong thing.

“Kevin is fairly dry, and monotone. He’s a shy guy a lot of the time, we told him to work on becoming more open and outgoing first and get the fancy equipment second but he was adamant that the equipment would be what makes his streams watchable and popular,” said Kevin’s friend Logan.

Lockhart told reporters he is not worried about his lack of personality.

“I’ve been watching Twitch a long time and most streamers don’t have a personality beyond hating a particular group of people so I think I’ll be fine. I’ve seen people with thousands of viewers who just seem like awful people so how hard could it be? Especially when I have all this equipment to make me look good.”

At press time, Lockhart is currently unemployed and looking to hire an editor to upload his VODs to his YouTube channel with 3 subscribers.