Tags
dope, grass, Hallmark Channel, helpful hints, hemp, kalamata olives, marijuana, Murder She Wrote, pot, potlucks, reefer, shitty obligations, sweet sweet cheeba, weed
By Smaktakula

Don’t We Want A Better World For Our Children Than This?
If you’re like most normals, you’ll do just about anything to avoid a potluck. This bizarre tradition of foisting one’s leftovers on the rest of the community refuses to die, and like a recurrent and pernicious staph infection, potlucks manifest in churches, classrooms and work-place cafeterias, kept alive by joyless prigs who hate to see people actually enjoying their food.
At Promethean Times, we don’t like potlucks any more than you do, and avoid them whenever possible. But in those rare instances when we’re unable to beg off such engagements, we find that by employing the Promethean Times Potluck Method,™ an unpleasant time is made ever-so-slightly more bearable. For those masochistic few who enjoy potlucks, why not stop reading now, and instead check out that Murder She Wrote marathon on the Hallmark Channel?

“So Who’s Behind The Potluck Phenomenon? Could It Be…Oh, I Don’t Know, Maybe…SATAN?!?”
First of all–don’t cook! Unless you’re able to cook something of extremely limited appeal but which you enjoy (see below), you’re better off buying something from the supermarket and then putting it on a paper plate. Expending more than a minimum effort defeats the purpose of the Promethean Times Potluck Method.™
To determine which foodstuffs to bring to the potluck, try to identify an edible which you enjoy, but which is not preferred or (better) actively disliked by the other potential potluck attendees. Smaktakula prefers to bring kalamata olives.

Smaktakula Prefers Them With The Pits. You’re In For A Treat.
Thanks to your wise food choice, you’ll be able to eat any of the dishes provided by more conscientious attendees, all the while urging others to “Try my home-cured olives–I think they’re pretty good for my first try. The brine almost seems to dance across your taste buds. Saltylicious!” If you’ve chosen correctly, they’ll have nothing to do with your food, and you’ll have plenty of leftovers to bring home.
More sensitive types may worry that their actions will be noticed. This is inevitable. As the person who brings pickled pigs’ feet to the party time after time, you’re going to attract attention. However, your craftiness will appear as nothing more than eccentricity when juxtaposed with those few folks who, inevitably, bring nothing. You’ve always got a leg up on those cheap fuckers.

Sure–We’ll Make Exceptions.
Smak, you are really funny. And I don’t know…if I had the munchies…that above spread might look mighty tempting… 🙂
Thanks, WL! And you have a good point–‘the hunger’ changes everything.
If I was known for TMI, I would tell you a personal tale suffered at the hands of one of these aforementioned potlucks of yours, but I try to avoid TMI, so you will have to use your imagination. Just know it wasn’t pretty. So yeah, I have to agree on the whole potluck thing. By the way, love the trademark of your term. I’m sure that will hold up well…
Of course it will. Intellectual property is sacrosanct on the web. And you needn’t worry about TMI, as I pride myself on my perspicacity. I have had three experiences with food poisoning. Two were most certainly not funny, as they happened to me. The third is quite amusing, and will someday be a ‘True-Ass Tale.’
Yes, it’s always funnier when it’s someone else having to squeeze their cheeks together while running down the hall. Not that that’s ever happened to me…
Running down the hall? Oh no, my friend was going nowhere. That’s part of the funny.
No ! You hate potlucks ? I love potlucks ! * maybe it’s really true. I have a heart of an old maiden. *
Ouch! First the Filipino remark, now potlucks–we’re batting .1000 with you! I guess now all we have to do is say something about violinists and we’ve created a Renxkyoko trifecta!
Thanks for reading!
Whenever I go to a potluck, I always bring pure, uncut cocaine. Wins the room over every time!