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Monthly Archives: March 2013

For The Love Of Larry Wilcox

28 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in True-Ass Tales

≈ 35 Comments

Tags

CHiPs, dentists, douchebaggery, Erik Estrada, Erik Estrada > Larry Wilcox, Fonzie, gluttony, Keanu Reeves, Kevin Costner, Larry Wilcox, Steve, Tardsie's True-Ass Tales, washed-up celebrities, Where Are They Now?, with friends like these

By Tardsie

It’s Okay That You Have No Idea Who Larry Wilcox Is. We’ll Try To Clear Everything Up.

I’ve told you before about my friend Steve, a guy I met in college. Steve is a nice guy, but back in our school days there was something about him, some weird quirk in his personality that went all the way to his DNA which made a person want to fuck with him. If a dude was gonna get decorated with a permanent marker, stuck with an ugly nickname or have a figurative rug yanked from beneath his feet during a moment of male bonding, it would be Steve. It’s hard to write this without sounding like a complete asshole (not least because at times we were complete assholes), but Steve brought a lot of it on himself. He was our pal, but there was an anger, an abrasiveness to him that, when combined with his constant need to impress, created an irritating cocktail that could sour even the sweetest nature.

One day, a bunch of us decided to go to McDonald’s for $0.25 hamburger day. We invited Steve, but as was sometimes his wont, he was being a whiny little dick, and for whatever reason didn’t want to go. Later, as we gorged upon a needlessly-massive pile of crappy burgers, we got to talking about how much of an anal wart Steve was being, and somebody remarked that it would be cool if we ran into a celebrity while we were eating lunch (not technically impossible–however unlikely–as we lived in the Greater Los Angeles area). “How pissed would Steve be if he missed out on seeing a celebrity?”

Sometimes I Would Literally Eat Until I Barfed. I Wish I Was Misusing The Word ‘Literally’ The Way So Many People Do These Days.

Pretty pissed, it was agreed. And so an idea began to form. What if we just told Steve we’d seen a celebrity? He’d never be the wiser. The possibilities for wicked fun rapidly began to suggest themselves. We knew we would have to choose our celebrity wisely, as this particular McDonald’s was in the ‘hood and about 20 miles from Hollywood. It was highly unlikely Steve would believe we’d seen the likes of Keanu Reeves or Kevin Costner¹ in this shithole. We’d have to think smaller.

“What about Erik Estrada?” someone asked. We’d been watching a lot of CHiPs reruns at the time.

But the Latino Fonzie was still too big for our McDonald’s. However, Larry Wilcox, the forgettable white dude who played his partner wasn’t. We had our ‘celebrity.’

And If You Can’t Be With The One You Love, Honey, Love The One You’re With.

My friend Giuseppe had the best handwriting,² and writing on McDonald’s napkins, he made individual “Larry Wilcox” autographs for everyone in the group, adding a personalized message at the end. After some thought, he made one for Steve as well.

When we got back to campus and told him the story of meeting Larry Wilcox, as we hoped, Steve was pissed at having missed meeting Officer Jon Baker in the flesh. However, his disappointment quickly turned to joy when he saw we’d remembered to bring back an autograph for him along with our own. He proudly displayed the forged document on the front of his dorm room door for all to see. It remained there for the rest of the year.

RK Was Another Kid I Knew From School. Total Douche.

¹ Hey, those guys were big stars at the time. ∞ T.
² His accomplished penmanship was somewhat ironic as he later went on to be a dentist, which some people consider to be kind of like a real doctor. ∞ T.

Palm Sunday Papal Headlines

24 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in Celebrity, Culture, Culture, Headlines, History, News, Religion

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Africa, Catholic sex abuse scandal, childish sexual innuendo, death by pope, fanciful notions, headlines, holidays, Palm Sunday, pederasts, Pope Benedict XVI, Pope Francis

By Smaktakula

At Last! A Return To Blood Sacrifice!

In which we remark upon the headlines of articles we haven’t bothered to read, and pontificate upon a pontiff we know nothing about.¹

***

Pope Francis starts first full day as pontiff with prayer ~ He’s the fucking pope–he’s pretty much obligated to start EVERY day off like that.

Your Wife Must Be So Proud.

US Catholics want a younger, more liberal pope ~ Yeah, we’ll bet they do.

Survey: Africans ready for African Pope ~ Yeah, we’ll bet they are.

It’s Time for a Queer-Friendly Pope ~ Yeah, we’ll bet…oh, we get it now–you’re  fucking with us. Good one! Our money’s on the African pope anyway.

There Is No Room In The Catholic Church For Homosexuality (Which We Strictly Interpret To Mean Sexual Relations Between Two Adult Males).

Pope’s Culture Club Masks Conclave Packed With Benedict’s Clones ~ Does this seem to you like a bunch of random words just sorta tossed together?

Which Catholic Church? ~ Ideally, the one that doesn’t bugger little boys.

Is the Catholic Church’s Future in Africa? ~ Unlikely. Africans aren’t any fonder of pederasty than anyone else.

Because Priests Like To Fu…You’re Right–We Should Have Stopped A While Ago. Apologies.

What Lies Ahead for Pope Benedict Post-Abdication ~ Pussy. Fathomless oceans of pussy stretching to the hither and yon, as far as the eye can see.

What? The Former Pope Is An Old Man, And It’s A Scientific Fact That Old People Like Cats. Real Mature, People.

¹And there, friends, is a great example of when to break the “don’t-end-your-sentences-with-prepositions rule.” But generally, try not to do that–it makes you sound dismueducated. ∞ T.

On Friendship

18 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in True-Ass Tales

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

Bill Clinton, cannabis, dope, fraternities, friendship, grass, hemp, marijuana, miss you Joe!, pledging, pot, reefer, sweet sweet cheeba, Tardsie's True-Ass Tales, the Big Chill, weed, Why am I so old?, xenophobia

By Tardsie

And A Little Gay If The Ponies Are To Be Believed.

I believe that friendship is important. It’s soul-affirming. A bad friendship is like a bad relationship–you’re better off not having it at all. But a good friendship is a powerful thing, and can help keep your ship afloat on rocky seas. I’ve been very lucky to have wonderful friends–dudes who have always accepted me for who I am (while mocking me for the same reason), who have loved me and seen me through some rough patches sandwiched in between a lot of kick-ass times. All this for a guy with as many faults as I have. Truly, I am not worthy.

On Wednesday, five of us gathered in LA for an impromptu remembrance of our friend Joe who died earlier this month. Of the four other guys, I’d seen three of them within the past six months. One guy I hadn’t seen in almost seventeen years, although it didn’t seem like that long. The last time we had all been together Bill Clinton had been president, and we were a pack of pot-smoking do-nothings with our whole lives ahead of us. Now we were pot-smoking do-nothings with families, careers and crow’s-feet. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time, and I laugh a lot.

It Was A Lot Like This, But With Better Music.

Being in the rejuvenating presence of such wonderful friends got me thinking about the bonds and boundaries of friendship, and how sometimes the tiniest things can make or break a friendship. It took me back to my junior year of college to a time when, through a mutual association, I’d met and become fast friends with a freshman who had started hanging out with our group, fitting in easily.

It was assumed this kid would pledge my fraternity. He had expressed interest, and was well-liked not only by myself but by many of the other members. But there was a snag. His older sister, who had just broken up with an alumnus from my fraternity, turned suddenly against us, and began to exert heavy pressure on her brother to join a different frat. He was conflicted: the other frat seemed to better represent the kind of guy he was coming out of high school (think the Omegas from Animal House), but he had so many promising friendships among us and just seemed to fit better.

I knew this was going on, and while I very much wanted him to come with us, I’d seen potential brothers scared away by the hard-sell, so I tried to express my opinions only when asked. I got that opportunity one day when we were hanging out.

“Hey,” he asked me one day, with no artifice, but definitely some trepidation, “If I pledge {Clan Douchebag}, we’ll still be friends, right?”

I Wouldn’t Even Be Able To Look At You The Same Way, Bro.

I looked at him seriously and said, “No. Not like we are now.” I could see he was a little stunned, and I could definitely understand, having been a freshman once.  I explained that if he joined the other frat, we’d try to be friends, but that our two very different circles would intersect but rarely, and that usually, those meetings were acrimonious. As painful as it was, I told him that his choice might very well dictate the future of our blossoming friendship.

It Is The Natural Way Of Things, My Child.

I’ve lived a long time since then and learned a lot more about what it means to be a friend. I wonder: If that young man had asked me the same question today, what would I tell him? Gatherings like the one I just attended inevitably bring to mind not only who is there present among the gathered, but also, far more poignantly–who isn’t there who maybe should be.

And so I think of that long-ago kid with whom I had such a great rapport and with whom I took such an implacable stance with my friendship. I wonder how things might have happened differently. And sometimes, I wonder what that kid is doing now.

When I do, I usually just call him. He’s one of the guys I saw on Wednesday, and whom I see pretty regularly. We were each in the other’s weddings, and I’m godfather to his son. We’re the best of friends to this day.

When faced with that long-ago choice, he totally made the right one. Keep your friends close, and don’t have enemies if you can help it.

Everyone Seen Here Made The Right Choice.

17 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ 11 Comments

In which we once again pay homage to that merry race of delightfully irascible inebriates. Happy St. Patrick’s Day & fook yez ull!

Smaktakula's avatarPromethean Times

By The Promethean Times Editorial Staff

Before we get started, we should confess something: despite the cruel, ignorant and generally irresponsible things we say about people, places and things, it may surprise our readers to know that we hold in great affection many of those very subjects we skewer so mercilessly.¹ Chief among these beloved foils are the Irish. Although we will continue to mock these hapless, potato-munching inebriates until our dying day, the fact that Tardsie and Smaktakula have between them made a combined five trips to the Emerald Isle should to a large degree demonstrate Promethean Times‘ love for the Micks.

The Irish are a warm, gregarious people, who, despite the startling number of fistfights in which they regularly engage, are rightly known for their genial natures. Although theirs is a bittersweet history, full of famines, oppression and drunkenness, it’s difficult not to admire a people…

View original post 565 more words

My First World Work Woes

08 Friday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in Philosophy, True-Ass Tales

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

audiobooks ruin lives, lazy people, real jobs, Why am I so lazy?

By Tardsie

Not If I Can Help It I Won’t.

You may have noticed (or just as likely not) that I’ve been unusually slow in posting, as well as commenting, both here and on other sites. There are several reasons for that. Chief among them are work woes.

Despite signs that the economy might be improving, unemployment continues to be a major problem. Unemployed Americans of all stripes are pounding the pavement in a wearying search for honest work.

However, I am not one of those earnest individuals. In times of old, gentlemen of leisure like myself were labelled “work-shy” or deemed “parasitic layabouts.” Shunned by the upright townsfolk, these poor individuals had no more to look forward to than a life of being  set upon by dogs and small children.

It’s How I Get My Exercise.

Thank goodness our modern sensibilities have allowed us to overcome this hurtful prejudice. I think that being a shiftless unemployable is sometimes the toughest job of all.

I told you recently about my nascent career in porn. As you may know, I started out doing the gay thing. Apparently, my performance was so impressive that the writer offered me another smut job. I was initially excited when he told me this one would be straight. However, perhaps we could all use a little reminder that while straight sex may be more comfortable to some people (e. g., me), some twisted individual can always find a way to make the act degenerate and disturbing. It made me long for a return to some wholesome gay sex. It left me feeling dirty. I’m not entirely sure I’ll ever have recreational sex again.

demotivational poster FETISH

I Can’t Even Talk To My Wife About It.

But here’s where it gets really weird.  I’m a trooper, so after the heterosexual project wrapped, I asked my new contact if he had more work for me.

He did!

“How do you feel about a Christian romance set in the days of the Oregon Trail?” he asks me. “They’re very popular right now.”

“Wait…What?”

Also, for the past three days I’ve been subject to the degradations and humiliation attendant with real work. That’s right–through no fault of my own, I’ve been riding a desk in an insurance office, where I’m expected to wear clean clothes and shoes with laces. My tribulations end today, thankfully.

I know, right? But wait, it gets worse! I’m expected to be there for FIVE hours every day. That’s over a fifth of the day! Then, if you consider that my drive to and from this hellish slave pit is a half-hour each way, making it a grueling six hours I sacrifice to the cause.

In fact, I have to get running. Those tyrants expect me to show up by 10-ish. In conclusion, it’s so very tough being me.

Have a great weekend, folks!

Pray For Me, Friends.

06 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ 6 Comments

Lost another friend yesterday. Thought it was time for a reblog. Remember, don’t be stingy with your love and affection. Life is short.

Smaktakula's avatarPromethean Times

By Tardsie

A friend of mine died tragically this weekend. He was far too young. Has there ever been an instance of someone who died too old?

***

For what is it all but being hatched,

And running about the yard,

To the day of the block?

Save that a man has an angel’s brain,

And sees the ax from the first!

Edgar Lee Masters

Spoon River Anthology

***

The Pursuit of Happiness

You can’t chase down happiness like a hunted animal. While you might pursue–and catch–a great many other things, you’ll have to find happiness within yourself. Love yourself and let others love you. Ain’t no other way, folks.

***

Do It Right

If you could be anyone in the world at any time, who would it be? By ‘be,’ we don’t mean that you’d simply have the person’s appearance, property or talents, but that you would actually be…

View original post 135 more words

Only Nixon Could Go To China

01 Friday Mar 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in News, True-Ass Tales

≈ 29 Comments

Tags

childish sexual innuendo, gay porn, I'm not kidding, porn, Tardsie's True-Ass Tales, you're such a jerk

By Tardsie

So I’m temporarily employed once again, but this time I’ve found a new niche.

There’s this thing I do with my mouth that drives the boys wild. ∞ T.

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