To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before

By Tardsie

You Were All Pretty Awesome. Thanks.

The Crush: It wasn’t love, but it was something like it; a one-sided stage rehearsal for the real thing. I ached for you; you know that now. It made me laugh a little to find out years later it would have been mine for the taking, if only I’d mustered the courage to ask. You taught me, belatedly, to take a chance on great things.

The Choir Girl: I’m sorry for how I was–not bad, but not good, either. You deserved better and you found it. I could have learned a lot from you if I’d been willing to listen.

The English Department Darling: Just about the time I thought maybe I could love you it was over. You broke up with me for a reason neither of us really understood, launching a misguided comeback attempt a few months later when it was already too late. All these years later, and you’re still alone. You taught me that life is too short for games.

The Freshman: You were special, and I didn’t take the time to see that. About the only thing I can say in my defense is that I didn’t set out to break your heart. I can’t change what I did, but I can bring my boys up to hopefully be better men than their father. You taught me to be less capricious with my affections, and I’m sorry the lesson was so hard-learned.

The First Love: I’d known lots of girls before you, but I’d never loved them.  I still feel warm when I think of you. You taught me to love hard and to love without reservation. You taught me that some mistakes are forever.

The Accountant: Such a straight-arrow. Laces tied and corners trimmed. Still, you gave me freedom; your only rule for me was “Don’t be high around my parents,” and I never was–they were very kind to me. It didn’t work out, but we’re still friends, and you were so very good for me. You taught me what it was to be an adult.

The Playwright: A first-class muse and a beast in the sack, you taught me to trust myself as a writer and how a lot of hustle can make a little talent go a very long way. I couldn’t make you happy, though, and you taught me that I need a girl who is happy on her own. You’re married now and have a child. I hope you’re happy; I really do.

My Wife: The best of the bunch, and the true beneficiary of all those lessons I learned along the way. I met you when I was seventeen years old, before any of the others. All these years later, you’re still here. My patient, beautiful, loving angel. You are so much more than I deserve.

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My Missing Medal

By Smaktakula

Wow! It’s Just So Weird That You Brought That Up…

Sometimes, when you mention a grievance or accomplishment, large or small, some would-be-funnyman will pipe up, “Do you want a medal or something?”

Next time this happens, tell him, “You’re goddamn right I want a medal. Let’s have it!”

Then, when he inevitably stumbles in his reply, tell him, “Your problem is that you make promises on which you have no intention of delivering. That makes you a liar and a scoundrel. Good day to you, Sir!”

With Or Without The Medal, You’re Pretty Special Just The Way You Are.

Posted in Philosophy | Tagged , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Promethean Times Questions Existence Of Sri Lanka


True story: On Thursday I’ll be driving down to LA to have dinner with a couple of friends, one of whom is from Sri Lanka. Not only do I plan to record some of the things my Sri Lankan friend says, but I will actually repeat them back to him IN HIS OWN ACCENT! And that will make the trip a tax-deductible business expense. God Bless America!
As a way of saying thank you to my friend in advance, Promethean Times is proud to trot out this golden oldie.

Originally posted on Promethean Times:

By Smaktakula

In recent months, international news has been replete with stories about Sri Lanka, from the hot and cold civil war between the government and the Tamil Tigers which ravished the tiny nation from 1983 to 2009, to the uneasy peace with exists today.  Thought not a cause célèbre like Tibet or Haiti, Sri Lanka is a region of concern for geopolitical strategists.  A simple internet search for Sri Lanka reveals thousands upon thousands of hits.  But does such a country even exist?

Cartographers say it does.  And on nothing more than the word of these men and women, millions of maps are made to their specifications.  Promethean Times questions the wisdom of placing so much power in the hands of such a small cadre.  It doesn’t take a genius to see that one or two corrupt cartographers could easily introduce a fake country to the world…

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Headlines: Shaking And Stirred

By Smaktakula

We Believe It Is Vitally Important To Treat An Issue With The Same Respect You Would Accord To Any Other Issue.

In which we celebrate our awe-inspiring ignorance by commenting on the headlines to articles we can’t be bothered to read.


The Reasons Kim and Kanye Picked The Name “ North ” May Surprise You ~ So it isn’t because they’re both brain-dead half-wits? Because, yeah–anything else WOULD be a surprise.

America’s new Irish immigrants ~ Every bit as drunken and shiftless as the last batch.

Vote: Should Marijuana Users Be Arrested? Hmm. You know, a better question might be, “Should you go fuck yourself?” You already know our answer.

Ark. SWAT officers kill man, 107, in standoff Seems like maybe they could have waited around for just a little while and let nature do the messy work for them.

Seahorses stalk their prey by stealth As opposed to the many, many animals which prefer to stalk their prey by making a god-awful racket.

Docs explain why James Bond prefers his martinis ‘shaken, not stirred’ Because James Bond has a very serious drinking problem, and his friends are terrified to talk to him about it.

“Sorry, Chap–I Missed That Last Bit–Something About Drinking, I Think. And Did I Tell You About My License To Kill? Yeah, They Just Let Me Shoot Whomever I Please. It’s Great–I Don’t Even Have To Give A Reason. But Please–Do Go On.”

The Ridiculous Things Lost On NYC Trains ~ We don’t consider a 14-year-old’s virginity to be at all ridiculous.

Why We Cry on Planes Because we–and here I mean me–are fucking terrified. Also uncomfortable. Seriously, can they design passenger class to accommodate the 5’8″-and-over crowd? And loosen up on the pot thing, of course.

Does doing yoga make you a Hindu? We dunno. Does blowing shit up make you a Muslim?

Why A Peanut Butter Test For Alzheimer’s Might Be Too Simple ~ For the same reason that the Saltine Cracker AIDS test was a bust.

5 comments never to say to someone who’s grieving “You poor dear! Look at the mess he left you; no matter how many times you scrub, you just can’t get gray matter out of chintz curtains–Lord knows how I’ve tried.”

Can TIME Predict Your Politics? ~ TIME is just People Magazine with a world leader on the cover. Grow up.

“But What Do The Kardashians Feel Is The Best Solution To Stem The Seemingly Intractable Internecine Bloodshed In South Sudan?”

Paul Walker’s Last Words Revealed “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Would You Date a Much Younger Man? How much younger? ‘Cause at a certain point, it starts to get a little…you know…illegal.

Atomic bomb nearly exploded over North Carolina in 1961, report says Which would have been awful, sure–but we’d still have South Carolina. It’s not like we need ‘em both, anyway; in a pinch, we could make do with just one Carolina.

Why I shun the Champs Elysees ~ Because it’s infested with Frenchmen. Duh.

The 4 Dangers Destroying Men ~ 1) Women, 2) Ladies, 3) Chicks, and in the case of gay men, 4) Gal Pals.

Restaurant Report: Chinese buffet facing violations ~ Well, if it met health and safety standards, it just wouldn’t be a Chinese buffet, now would it?

“Taste Just Like Chicken!”

5 simple things a tired mama wants for Christmas ~ Baby, I got everything you need right here in my pants–it’s a gift certificate for the day spa. You’re so special!

LBJ’s reaction to JFK’s death ~ “Hah! We got that son of a bitch!”

What Julia Gillard did for Australia and sexism ~ Although Ms. Gillard has suffered a setback, her greatest legacy may have been to pound the final nail in the coffin of sexism. As she walks off into the sunset, political observers everywhere will no doubt take a moment or two to appreciate her cute little backside.

Cheney Feared Terrorists Could Hack His Heart Are you reading this, Hamid?

Suzanne Somers is having sex — and a lot of it ~ Titillating is to disgusting as 1981 is to 2014.

Figure skating champ Boitano says he’s gay It’s hard to say how this stunning revelation will play out in the hyper-masculine world of men’s figure skating.

It May Not Be This Year, Or Even The Next, But Someday Men’s Figure Skating Will Have To Embrace Tolerance.

Whether you like it or not, the U.S. needs Mexico It’s like the pretty girl who brings her ugly friend to parties.

Iran says all sides agree to N-deal But still, no one can actually bring themselves to say the N-Word.

Erich Priebke, Nazi Who Carried Out Massacre of 335 Italians, Dies at 100 Hopefully this will put it in perspective for you: God doesn’t care about Italians.

Am I Bankrupting Social Security by Taking Benefits I May Not Need? ~ Heavens, no! Cowardly politicians are bankrupting it by refusing to address it in any meaningful way.

Woman’s Husband Told Her She’s Not Pretty Enough Still looking for the last honest man?

You Won’t Believe the Jobs Walmart Is Creating ~ Shitty ones.

Well, How Can You Be Trusted To Help Me When You Can’t Be Trusted To Make Sound Career Choices?

Posted in Celebrity, Cinema, Crime, Culture, Headlines, News, Philosophy, Politics, Religion, Science, Sport | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

The Saddest Girl I Ever Knew

By Tardsie

I Don’t Normally Go For Broken Girls, But Heather Was A Special Kind Of Broken.

I met a girl named Heather once at a party many years ago, back when I was single.  High summer had come to Western Washington: long, pleasant days  finally ushered into night by an extended twilight. Barbecuing weather. The perfect day for a house party.

Heather was a friend of a friend, and she was lovely.  She was brainy and self-assured, funny in that easy way that wasn’t practiced, but was as much a natural component of her makeup as were her eyes, nose, lips or breasts. And she was cool, having mastered the delicate feat of managing to remain feminine while at the same time laughing at crude jokes and dropping the occasional F-Bomb.

I am not one of those guys for whom women go nuts at first sight. I guess I’ve been lucky in love, but all my serious relationships have been with women whom I’d known for a while before we started dating, ladies who were slow to recognize that they were already madly in love with me. Like arsenic, my appeal works stealthily over time, growing in secret until it overwhelms the system’s natural defenses, and the victim ultimately succumbs.  But this time, maybe, I got lucky–Heather seemed as into me as I was her–an assessment, I hasten to add, made before alcohol clouded my judgement, rendering all such judgments moot.

Some People Call Me The Rat-Killer Of Love.

We both made our individual rounds at the party, but it was never long before we’d find ourselves together again. Being tipsy only seemed to accentuate Heather’s wit and to embolden this already-bold girl. She was knocking the drinks back pretty fast, but so were a lot of people.

Heather grew increasingly hammered as the evening wore on. At 9:30 she was a funny drunk, flirtatious and playfully argumentative. But by the time 11:30 rolled around, she was a mess–an incoherent, apologetic, stumbling grotesquery. Where she had earlier been outgoing and vivacious, now she was quiet and uncertain, confused. Once, she slipped while descending a short, carpeted staircase, picking herself up at the bottom with a shaky little laugh that had nothing of mirth in it whatsoever.

Heather’s friends seemed to find this behavior funny, and when Heather shattered a beer bottle on the back patio a little after midnight, the ensuing beat of silence was followed closely by raucous laughter. “There goes Heather!” somebody said to more laughs.

I’m Afraid The Appeal Is Lost On Me.

“She’s like this every weekend,” my friend told me, explaining that, during the week, Heather worked a 9 to 5 job which helped to keep her behavior in check, but she really let loose on the weekends. She would spend her Friday and Saturday evenings bombed into incoherence.  She suffered through Saturday and Sunday afternoons semi-comatose on her couch, the curtains drawn against the sun’s rays, and against the pain and nausea they brought.

As people made their goodbyes and the party thinned out, the predators began to circle around Heather, drawn to the scent of compromised vulnerability which was coming off her in waves. She was almost the last girl at the party.

One of the vultures, a guy I knew by face, was particularly determined. He’d moved into Heather’s orbit in the hour before the party wound down, halfheartedly attempting clumsy conversational overtures that often as not degenerated into innuendo, all the while moving steadily closer to Heather, his intentions naked on his face. Finally, he was behind her, rubbing her shoulders and murmuring banalities in her ear. He was nervous and twitchy; he smiled too much and he smiled wrong, as if worried some other predator might steal “his” kill out from under him.

True Story: I Ran Into The Creepy Guy Again A Few Years Later. He Tried To Get Me To Invest In A Multi-Level Marketing Scheme.

Abruptly, Heather turned to me and said, “Take me home.” Her face was plaintive; her eyes huge and terrified.

“Okay,” I said, “I can do that.”

The creep’s fingers froze and slowly retracted from their perch on either side of Heather’s neck. His face wore a look of thwarted, impotent shock that made it clear he had misunderstood what Heather wanted of me.  She wasn’t asking me to take her home so that I could have sex with her; she just wanted to go home.

Even with her diminished capacity, Heather must have been aware to some degree of the risks involved in placing her safety in the hands of a man she’d only that day met, and how quickly that situation could spiral beyond her control. Apparently, she thought her chances alone in a car with me were better than if she stayed here with her friends, enjoying the attentions of the creep. I flatter myself that Heather chose the way she did because the spark between us I had imagined earlier in the evening when we were both sober had been very real, and that the events of that years-ago evening are properly filed among life’s many great “if only” moments.

In the end, the thing that I’d wanted more than anything just six or seven hours earlier came to pass–I got to take Heather home.  She gave me her phone number before she got out of the car, and said I should call her some time. I told her I would, wishing I could stop the lie even as it came tumbling from my lips.

Not This Time.

Posted in Culture, Philosophy, True-Ass Tales | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Christmas vs. The Family

By Smaktakula

Some songs enrich our lives; others shatter them.

Because Some Things Just Aren’t Funny.

Posted in Culture, Religion, Stupidity | Tagged , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Headlines: Is There A Moose Under There?

By Smaktakula

Be On The Lookout For This Adorable Sex Criminal. His Most Frequent Tactic Is To Leave A Chew-Toy In Plain Sight On The Sidewalk. Victims Foolish Enough To Bend Over To Pick Up The Toy Told Police That By The Time They Understood What Was Happening, It Was Already Too Late.

In which we roll around in a great big pile of our own ignorance.


16 Grossest Things Parents Do for Their Kids ~ Bird parents puke down their kids’ throats. Try topping that.

In the mood for love? Signs that point to ‘yes’ ~ An erection, obviously.

This Couple Is Angry About Expecting Twins. Hear Them Out. ~ No, we’re with you. It’s almost as if God hates you, huh?

Deaf NY Starbucks Patrons Sue, Say They’re Mocked ~ Yeah, but how do they know, really?

Little Boy Makes Friends With Pope Francis ~ Ah. Little boys and priests, what could be sweeter than…wait just a damn minute!

Adding A Funny Caption Would Only Sully The Beauty Of This Moment.

‘I Thought I Was Ready To Lose My Virginity’ Alas, being a virgin is a lot like being a hemophiliac: one prick and it’s all over.

Which ‘Housewife’ Is Worth $10K? ~ Studies show that the labor of the average homemaker is worth something like $120K annually. So the housewife worth $10K is a really shitty one.

How Not to Be Alone ~ Try to be a little less sucky.

Waitress Who Received Offensive Note Instead Of Tip Makes Awesome Move ~ She chalked it up to “people being assholes” and went on with her life? That would be awesome.

Tadeusz Mazowiecki, Polish prime minister, dies at 86 ~ Turns out he choked to death on one of the superfluous consonants in his name.

Seriously, You Could Put An Eye Out With That!

Analysis: Why Putin is backing Assad’s blood-soaked Syrian regime ~ Because Vladimir Putin is a creature of pure evil. This one’s not a joke, folks.

Gay NBA Player’s Hot Girlfriend ~ Wait…What?

Not Your Grandmother’s Skin Care? I sure hope not. Whatever Grandma’s been using has shriveled her up like a prune.

13 Things Your Bartender Won’t Tell You #8 “I think you’ve had enough, sir.”

WATCH: Newborn twins can’t stop hugging each other ~ Heh. That’s so gay.

Get A Room, Fellas.

Texas Plant’s Hazards Eluded Regulators For Nearly 30 Years ‘Eluded?’ That’s a mighty fancy word for “ignored by.”

The sexiest film ever? ‘Blue Is the Warmest Color’ ignites passions ~ Well, V from Lame Adventures saw it with her buddy Milton and they both agreed it was just about the best darn movie ever made.

Moose die-off: 100,000 ticks on just one moose, is Lyme disease culprit? ~ Have you considered death by blood loss?

‘Chaplin: The Musical’ — The Little Tramp Makes It to the Great White Way ~ It’s from the brilliant minds behind such Broadway hits as Marcel Marceau: The Rock Opera and Helen Keller: In Her Own Words.

Why I never cheer while attending pro sporting events ~ ‘Cause I’m a joyless dick.

“Also, There Is No Santa Claus, Social Security Will Be Insolvent By The Time You’re Old Enough To Collect On It, And You Will Never Find True Love.”

Woman, 86, dies after running marathon ~ If you’ll consult the morbidity tables, we think you’ll find that statistically speaking she was every bit as likely to die after watching reruns of Murder She Wrote.

Talking feelings isn’t something Peyton Manning enjoys ~ Well, duh. Guess you saw the name ‘Peyton’ and thought he was a chick.

You’re a Gay Couple. Now What Do You Do? ~ I dunno, go to the movies or something. It’s not all that complicated.

The Alleged Rapist With a Possibly Inappropriate Nickname He assaults AND demeans–a true double-threat!

Arkansas Man Wakes Up To Find Dog Ate His Testicle ~ We were going to make an Arkansas joke, but it’s just so sad how those people live.¹

Some Of Smaktakula’s Ancestors Found Themselves In Arkansas Shortly After Arriving In America. They Got The Hell Out, Of Course.

My partner is sending naked photos of herself to another man Then she’s not really you’re partner, now is she?

War, What Is It Good For? ~HUH! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Well, that’s what you’re supposed to say, but war is actually good for a lot of things, such as the acquisition of new territory and resources, expanding a nation’s sphere of influence and as a means of population control.

Warning men about “gray rape” ~ Keep it under 55, scumbags!

Chris Farley’s friends remember: “His greatest love was the act of laughter itself” ~ Cocaine was a pretty strong second, though, followed closely by whores.

Don’t White People Kill Each Other, Too? ~ Yes, but only as a last resort.

However, Virtually All The Blood-Crazy, Spleen-Eating Whack-Jobs Notorious Enough To Get Their Own Lifetime Specials Are White Dudes.


¹Much love, CB! ∞ T.
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