Monthly Archives: June 2012

Headlines: 06.29.12

29 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture, Entertainment, History, News, Politics

≈ 24 Comments

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By Smaktakula

You Need To Let That One Go, Fellas. Nature Will Sort Everything Out.

Look–you can read the articles if you want, but we get all we need to know from the headlines.

Cher ticks off Australian city ~ Heretofore merely a domestic shame, the braying pop-relic has transcended the bonds of regional effrontery to become an international offense.

World’s oldest known pottery discovered in China ~ Archaeologists contend that despite its antiquity, the remarkable find is every bit as lame and boring as modern pottery.

NY man admits to pouring bleach into children’s milk ~ Mayor Bloomberg personally arranged for his release, arguing that at zero calories, bleach was a healthy alternative to high-calorie sodas.

Here’s a Photo of Lightning Striking the Empire State Building Yesterday ~ What a rare and beautiful sight! You know, lightning only strikes the ESB 500 times a year.

Kim K. doesn’t know what ‘virgin’ means ~ To be fair, virginity isn’t something she’s had to worry about since she was nine.

“Am I The One That Likes To Get Peed On? I Can’t Even Remember Any More.”

Earhart’s Anti-Freckle Cream Jar Possibly Found ~ Forcing the FDA to reevaluate the claims made by the manufacturers of ‘disappearing creams.’

Joyce Maynard Adopted Two Girls from Ethiopia Then Gave Them Up ~ She was only doing what she thought was right. If they’re under the weight-limit, you’re supposed to toss ’em back.

Attorneys: Sandusky’s adopted son says he’s also a victim ~The kid’s adopted, so at least they can’t throw incest into the mix.

Report: Syria leader’s wife says she’s ‘real dictator’ ~ Ladies, we need your help with this one: Given that the wife of mass-murdering nastyman Bashar “Basher” al-Assad claims that SHE wears the jackboots in that family, are we okay in calling her a cunt?

Looking for Pedro Hernandez ~ Have you already checked the parking lot of Home Depot?

For $9 An Hour And A Big Mac, He’ll Be Anyone You Want Him To.

Porn star claims butt is hers~ No one’s quite figured out how to break it to her that her ass is now public domain.

Men really DO like dumb, drunk women! ~ Ladies, it’s nothing against intelligence–really! It’s just that the drunker & stupider you are, the more likely you are to give it up for us. That’s all.

Mystery of Stonehenge solved? ~ Most likely not.

French president defends early Afghan withdrawal ~ Yeah, but he’s got a speech already prepared. The French are no strangers to leaving the game before the whistle blows.

Woman gets naked at airport ~ Making the pat-down for the guy behind her very awkward.

We’d Fly A Lot More, That’s For Damn Sure.

Earth Day initiatives becoming commonplace ~ But no less tiresome.

RFK assassination witness tells CNN: There was a second shooter ~ The witness later recanted, confirming that there had in fact been only one shooter. Explaining his confusion he said, “I thought there were two different guys named ‘Sirhan.’ My bad.”

Woman, child survive mauling by cheetahs ~ Seriously impugning the feline’s claim to be the fastest land animal in the world.

Egypt official says election results to be released Sunday ~ The families of election officials to be released Monday.

TSA Agents Discuss My Mother-in-Law’s ‘Crotch Area’ ~ Hardly. What you overheard was them discussing the crisis in Uganda, which they rightly described as “a foul, unnecessarily hairy hot-spot, stinking of corruption.”

The Reward Of Those Who Come Here Is A Burning Impotence And Tears Of Regret.

29 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture

≈ 11 Comments

Recently, Cakes & Shakes over at Frankly, My Dear interviewed Smaktakula. If you’ve ever wanted to know what Smaktakula’s teeth were like or what he’d do with a time machine, there’s NEVER been a better opportunity!

This Day In History: June 28, 1914 CE

28 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by in Crime, History, Politics

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On which, in an unlikely Balkan backwater, a Serbian crazyman formally inaugurates the 20th Century with a bang.

The Assassination Of  The Austro-Hungarian Crown Prince Would Later Exert A Measure Of Influence Upon The Course Of World History When, In The Early Years Of The 21st Century, A Bunch Of Scottish Dudes Decided ‘Franz Ferdinand’ Would Be A Really Sweet Name For A Band.

***

***

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est 
Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

***

You’re Stupid. So’s Your Kid.

26 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture, Stupidity

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By Smaktakula

Sure, You’ve Got High Hopes For The Little Guy. But Remember, A Big Mac Doesn’t Cook Itself.

It turns out that your baby may not be able to read after all.

The tiresome do-gooders at the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood have found a new way to make the world just the teensiest bit safer: by highlighting the dangers posed by Your Baby Can Read, an As-Seen-On-TV educational system which purports to teach infants and toddlers to read.  The activist group filed a complaint last year with the Federal Trade Commission, alleging that the product’s misleading claims could confuse dimwitted-parents–the very group whose offspring are most at risk to be afflicted with ‘the dumbs’–who might construe them as factual.

Seriously, See A Pediatrician About That, Because We’re Pretty Sure That’s Not The Way Babies Are Supposed To Look.

Your Baby Can Read is the brainchild of edu-hustler Dr. Robert Titzer, who claims that the brains of infants and toddlers are especially receptive to reading education. Furthermore, Titzer claims that a narrow window of opportunity exists in which to access a child’s higher learning capabilities, capabilities which have atrophied by the time at which most children begin to receive formalized schooling.

How Smart Can The Kid Be If He Thinks A Film Starring Kathleen Turner And Christopher Lloyd Is His Ticket To Stardom?

Opponents say these claims are laughable, citing as evidence an NBC study, which suggests that while very young children may be able to memorize word patterns, their tiny, underdeveloped brains lack the capacity for true comprehension. Activist groups contend that these misleading claims entice parents to spend their hard-earned money on an essentially useless product.

A Significant Portion Of A Child’s Intellect Is Determined By Genetics. Still, We Wish You The Very Best Of Luck.

After a thorough review of the evidence provided in the NBC study as well as independent research, it is our opinion that the claims of groups like the CCFC are correct: Your Baby Can Read appears to be of little or no value as a means of establishing within a child a life-long love of reading. Despite this, the campaign against Your Baby Can Read is misguided. Granted, thousands of well-meaning parents are ponying up hard cash for this dud, but remember–every dollar spent on this scam is another dollar not spent on cigarettes, malt liquor and lottery tickets.

Take Some Consolation From The Knowledge That, As Stupid As He Is, Your Boy’s At Least As Smart As You Are.

Puppy Killing: Why We’re Against It

23 Saturday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture, Stupidity

≈ 15 Comments

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By Smaktakula

Is It Right That These Beautiful Creatures Should Be Slaughtered Only For Their Surprisingly Delicious Ear Meat?

Typically, we choose not to take a firm stance on controversial issues, preferring to pepper our words with outrageous half-truths and innuendo, to a large degree obfuscating our actual intent, granting us an exculpatory escape hatch of credible–or at least defensible–deniability should our stance prove unpopular. Promethean Times has been well-served by such non-action since publishing our first newsstand issue in 1927. However, in dark times such as these, when human conscience buckles under the weight of an unbearable evil and the soul cries out for justice, a venerated policy must be weighed against a stark new reality.  For this reason, Promethean Times must take a stand–alone if necessary– against the metastasizing global cancer, puppy-killing.

Pupcicles: Drowning Speared Puppies Is A Favorite Inuit Pastime.

Promethean Times emphatically deplores the slaughter of puppies for sport.  In many countries, puppy-killing is a tradition dating back hundreds or even thousands of years. Guatemala’s Fiesta de los Muertos Cachorro has long been a target for animal-rights activists, and roundly condemned by the general public for its bloodthirsty ferocity. Likewise, Belgians–renowned for their fanatical hatred of all living things–host the annual Night of Long Whimpering, which attracts puppyphobes from around the globe. In Senegal, where puppies’ claws are thought to cure river blindness, fly-blown puppy carcasses litter the roads where they have been cast, pawless, by poachers. The horrors faced by puppies in South Korea are so well-documented as to require no further description here.

Spending 22 Hours A Day In A Cardboard Box Is Bad, But Far Better Than What Awaits Them At The Brussels Sausage Factory.

Of course, these are only the most egregious examples of this sadistic bloodsport; a thousand smaller evils occur every day in our own towns and cities. Heretofore, puppy-killing has been a taboo subject, and like race or sexual fetishism, not discussed in polite company. However convenient it has been to avoid words like ‘canicide’ and thereby ignore the crisis at the world’s doorstep, the time has come to recognize the wholesale slaughter of innocent puppies for what it is: a burgeoning howlocaust.

What? We Were Talking About Puppies. Put Those Mewling Doorstops At The Bottom Of The Monongahela For All We Care.

Tardsie’s True-Ass Tales: A Lesson From Smart-Mouth Eddie

22 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture, History

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By Tardsie

Your Child’s Teacher Was Most Likely Not A Juvenile Offender, Has Probably Never Been Kicked Out Of College And Isn’t Going To Go On To Be A Word Press Spammer. We’re Just Saying That It Happens From Time To Time.

I taught at an after-school clinic in Southern California for a while after I graduated college. The pay blew ass, but to this day it remains the job I have most enjoyed doing, and in which I believe I did the most good. I taught reading and college-prep writing.

I tended to get the hardcases, for whom I had some affection–kids, like twelve-year-old Eddie Jong, who were too damn smart for their own good. Eddie was considered a particularly onerous student because of his inappropriate and razor-keen tongue. I didn’t mind working with Eddie, though, which was fortunate, because nobody else wanted to.

Being just a little bit lippy myself, I had a knack for taming smartmouths, and mostly I was able to keep Eddie reined in. But in a dastardly move that regular readers of the True-Ass Tales might see as some sort of karmic justice, there was one time when, in front of at least fifteen other teachers and students, Eddie got me good.

Today He’s An Annoyance, But Tomorrow He’ll Be Taking Over The World. Or In Jail. One Of The Two.

The thing which transpired couldn’t have been something he’d planned. He was simply a panther crouched in the tall grass alongside a watering-hole, and I the hobbled emu foolish enough to drink.

“I hate teachers,” he said one day. He said that a lot.

I sighed. “Yeah, Eddie–well let me tell you something, we just love you.” I was undone almost before I had finished the words.

The little bastard’s eyes widened in ersatz horror as he backed away from the table. “Did you hear that everybody? Tardsie said he loved me. HE’S A FUCKING PERVERT!”

Oh, The Little Fucker!

It took almost a minute for the other teachers to get their students refocused, a task made more difficult by their own snickering. In the meantime, I dragged Eddie up to the front desk, and told the attendant that I was docking an insane amount of points (the kids could earn toys and prizes–some of which were actually pretty cool–based on their points, which obviously, meant a great deal) for not only his improper and disruptive behavior but for his disgusting potty-mouthery as well.

It was the right thing to do, and when I next saw Eddie, he was suitably chastened–temporarily anyway. Although we would do battle many more times while I worked there, I was careful never again to let that crafty little turd score a knockout blow. I like to think, however, that I was in some way responsible for the maturation of Eddie’s devastating wit. The hardest thing about it was never being able to tell that smart-mouthed little shit how very proud he made me.

There Is Nothing More I Can Teach You, My Child.

Helpful Hints For Everyday Life: Jerks

22 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture

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By Smaktakula

Every now and again you’ll find yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to cooperate for a short time with an asshole. Ever the consummate gentleman (or gentlelady), you will no doubt make the best of a bad situation, resisting the urge to draw attention to the low-grade animosity between the two of you.

However, comporting himself like a mature adult may be asking too much of this twat’s self-discipline and dignity. In an effort to wrest control of the situation (and by extension some small piece of his sad and wasted life), he may hit you with a blustery line beginning with the painfully obvious assertion, “I don’t like you, and you don’t like me.”

ACTION! “I Love You–You Love Me, We’re A . . . A . . .Look, I Can’t Do This, Okay? Baby Bop, I Want You Out Of My Fucking Life. The Thought Of Even One More Day Waking Up To Your Face Fills Me With A Numb Horror From Which There Is No Escape. Why Won’t You Die, Baby Bop? Why Won’t You–” CUT!

It’s a fair bet that someone so reliant on an old movie-house chestnut like that will be sluggish on his mental feet–the right comment delivered at the right moment will shut this joker down. Be ready!

Your opponent will be ready for at most two reactions.  He will expect you either to engage him in mutual verbal hostility, or else sink into a sullen silence. He has likely crafted an action plan for either response, and it is critical that you keep him off-balance and outside his comfort zone.

Many People Believe That Being A Bloated, Caricatured, Acquisitive Vulgarian Is Something To Be Admired. Fortunately, Only The Donald Holds In Such Esteem Guys Who Hide Their Baldness By Plastering The Strands Of A Greasy Mop Along The Smooth Contours Of Their Skulls.

Immediately after he delivers his line–before he finishes his sentence, if possible–respond with a completely perplexed, “I like you fine.”*

Completely unprepared such an eventuality, this clown will be instantly rendered more desperate for a cue card than Lindsay Lohan in The Merry Wives of Windsor. He will splash about for a few moments, but if not thrown a rope in the form of an angry reaction on your part, he will soon enough sink below the surface with no trace of his passing.

Congratulations! You’ve gone all Gandhi on this guy, scoring a knockout with a metaphorical kick to the nuts, and carried it off with all the panache and precision of Fred Astaire.You can now expect that whatever you need to accomplish together should be easy enough, with no lip from the cowed ass-clown.

“Remember: There’s Somebody Who Thinks You’re Pretty Special Just The Way You Are. It’s Not Me, Though; I Don’t Particularly Care For You.”

*An alternate answer which is generally less successful, but more efficacious in those instances when it does succeed, is best employed by actors or by individuals with expressive personalities.  This version requires a longish pause after jerkwad’s line.  Then affecting a look of mild shock and barely concealed hurt, say in a small voice, “You don’t like me?”

Warning Labels Weaken The Nation!

21 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by in Culture, Stupidity

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By Smaktakula

Seriously–How Did We Make It This Far?

Natural selection is the process by which external forces eliminate nature’s weaker elements, leaving a more genetically advantageous stock to breed. This phenomenon is experienced throughout the animal kingdom, not only by simple creatures like sea anemones, butterflies and Romanians, but by Homo sapiens as well.

Lisa Ling: In Another Age She Would Have Been Eaten By Wolves As A Child.

In days of yore, individuals with desirable qualities reaped the rewards of society, and had awesome sex with one another. Likewise, the cretinous ticks lining society’s blighted underbelly, afflicted with undesirable qualities like shortness, endured poor and miserable lives, forced to seek their pleasure with other undesirables, or as was frequently the case, with themselves. Throughout the long march of human history, a steady refinement in the species permitted quantum jumps in our development in the 19th, 20th and now 21st Centuries.

“So Tell Me Again What Happens If I Pour This Scalding Hot Liquid Directly Onto My Crotch.”

Humanity made the world its bitch; no river was so vast that we could not dam it, no peak too great to scale, no creature we could not slaughter. Humanity learned and adapted; yesterday’s pernicious scourge became tomorrow’s quaint historical curiosity–just ask smallpox. In humanity’s golden age, those who might in the past have died at birth grew up to live happy, productive lives, free of many of the day-to-day woes of generations past. The species has reached a stage in its development where it strives for comfort, rather than simply to survive. No longer is our survival dependent upon continuously adapting to an ever-changing world; the world must now adapt to us.

There’s Never Been A Better Time To Break In Your Seal-Shaped Surfboard.

However, it is impossible to pick up one end of a stick without also picking up the other, and likewise, humanity’s circumvention of natural selection brings with it attendant consequences. No longer is it the sole domain of the fit to survive; the unfit may also live.  More than that, the unfit may thrive. For every Stephen Hawking, whose marvellous brain and groovy voice are a fair trade for efforts in keeping alive a man God clearly intended to die, there are scores of able-bodied half-wits who would have walked in front of a subway train years ago  if not for the numerous and strategically placed signs and bright red lines to discourage such action.

Every Box Of Yummy Mort Aux Rats Breakfast Cereal Comes With A Free Rat Carcass!

Given the rapid dilution of quality throughout the civilized world, the globe’s great nations have become sluggish and saturated with nincompoopery. This phenomenon is evidenced in the United States’ predilection for professional “wrestling,” Japan’s love of bizarre porn, and the mere existence of Belgium. Already the slack-jawed halfwits are out-breeding intellectuals by a ratio of 46:1. Having already taken most public-sector jobs, it is only a matter of time before the cataclysmically stupid saturate all areas of the workforce.

A Warning That Exposure To This “Program” Can Lead To The Onset Of Cretinous Boobery Is Too Little, Too Late.

Make no mistake–this societal devolution delights the Evil Ones. The enemies of all that is righteous and good would like nothing better than to see the West expose its soft flank. Al-Qaeda, for instance,  has repeatedly demonstrated a  nearly superhuman patience; it will be no great thing for such shadowy organizations to lie in wait until the society is too enfeebled to resist an attack.

Heh. ‘Gap.’ Don’t Tell Us It Doesn’t Make You Think…Okay, Maybe It’s Just Us.

The solution is clear. It is paramount that governments not only do away with these society-enfeebling warning labels, but also that they take specific action to reverse the damage that has already been done.  Rather than label electronic devices “Unsafe in Water,” manufacturers would serve the public interest by tagging them as bath toys.  Zookeepers could do their part by not harassing visitors who wish to pet the Siberian tiger. Our sad march to Moronville will not be stopped until every box of Comet toilet cleanser proudly proclaims ‘Tastes Great On Salad!”

“Guys, I Cannot Stress This Enough: Super-Glue Is NOT For Eating.”