Category Archives: People

Mark Wahlberg Is Nothing Without The Funky Bunch. Nothing!

13 Friday Aug 2010

Posted by in Cinema, Culture, General Foolishness, Hollywood, Music, People

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By Smaktakula

There.  We said it.                                     

Marky Mark Wishes He Could Travel Forward In Time To Lay A Beatdown On That Poser, Mark Wahlberg, Like In That Dope New Movie Terminator 2. Except Opposite.

 It seems as if the brash young rapper who once snarled, Money is the thing that I need to fulfill my greed is gone.  Thespian Mark Wahlberg, as Marky Mark now prefers to be called, has reached a level of financial success of which the hungry young kid from Boston and his creepy supernumerary nipple might only have dreamed.    

A life of contentment has erased any trace of the beguiling young star who once brazenly dedicated a book to his own penis.  However, it is doubtful that even the most cynical observer would have predicted Wahlberg’s quiet spiral into soullessness.  In a recent interview, the hollow ghost of his former It-Boy incarnation admitted that he would dust off his negligible hip-hop chops to rap on a Justin Bieber album, if only the hairless hit factory would ask him.                              

Vibrations good like Sunkist/Many wanna know who done this
You did it, Marky.  You did it to yourself.  We were powerless to do anything but watch you fall apart.

Word To Facebook

Eine Kleine Snatchmusik

12 Thursday Aug 2010

Posted by in Art, Critters, Culture, Drug Culture, General Foolishness, Music, People, Social Networking

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By Smaktakula

Lady Gaga, the intermittently interesting humanoid lava lamp, reveals to Vanity Fair the fecund loam from which, flower-like, her creativity springs.

“I have this weird thing that if I sleep with someone, they’re going to take my creativity from me through my vagina.”

"Which Is Why I Must Insist That My Gentleman Callers Kindly Use The Servants' Entrance."

This just in: Polk High School JV Water Polo team writes, composes and performs Grammy-nominated rock opera.

Helpful Hints For Everyday Life: The Bluff

12 Thursday Aug 2010

Posted by in Culture, Mythology, People, Relationships, Social Networking

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By Smaktakula    

The Consummate Pro: This Man Knows How To Bluff.

On those occasions when you manage to bluff someone into telling you something by acting like you know more than you really do, and then he asks you, When did you find out?–resist the temptation to be the smirking A-Hole who says, Just now–when you told me!  After that bush league play, he won’t tell you shit.    

The best responses run along these lines: We’ve known almost since the beginning.  Your opponent will spend the next few moments trying to figure out where he got careless and screwed up.  Meanwhile, you can follow with, “But there’s just one or two things I don’t understand.”  You’d be surprised at what he’ll tell you.    

"But You See, Mr. Johnson, I Didn't Know Until Just Now. I Followed You To This Remote Cabin Without Telling Anyone To Trick You Into Confessing. Now Please, Let Me Borrow Your Telephone. The Police Will Be Here In 20 Minutes."

Bluff Facebook

A Foul, Yet Affordable Rolling Bedlam

11 Wednesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Crime, Culture, Holiday, People, Places, Social Networking, World Affairs

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By Smaktakula

The airplane has emerged as the prefered means of conveyance for most Americans.  Commuters routinely jet between neighboring cities which once they would have reached by rail or road.  Trains are still used by East Coast commuters, retired English teachers and quirky, garrulous middle-aged gay men; they have long since ceased to be a viable travel option for the rest of America.  The airlines are fast, but expensive.  Amtrak, a bloated, dying beast supported by the American taxpayer, is interminably slow as well as being expensive.  For those wretched souls for whom neither conveyance is an option, only the bus remains.

"Your Chocolate Got In My Peanut Butter!" Buses And Embankments Are Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together.

Americans seem to understand instinctively that bus travel is travel of the last resort.  A July 23rd tragedy in Fresno, California validated those fears when a Greyhound bus collided with an overturned SUV, then clipped another vehicle before all three plummeted over a 15-foot embankment, killing six people.  More recently, three people were killed in a Utah bus crash.  Add to those figures the six Namibians and thirteen Chinese killed in bus accidents in the last few days.  Amid the carnage, a grisly message begins to coalesce: travel by bus, die horribly.

It has been said that there is no good way to die.  However, some deaths are so uncomfortable and degrading as to measure to a standard all their own.  By any reckoning, death by bus is among the worst.

Urban commuters familiar with the city bus often fail to appreciate the dismal squalor of its far-traveling cousin.  They correctly point out that like long-distance buses, city buses are also filthy, slow and buzz with incipient craziness.  But when compared to the Yemeni prison-on-wheels that is the Greyhound bus, the Muni transforms into a first-class berth on the Orient Express.  City dwellers may find it unsettling that the ratty, sour-smelling man in the stained overcoat is peeing into the center aisle, but should take some comfort that they face little danger of being decapitated by a deranged seatmate.

Buses Are Often Crowded, And Finding A Seat To Yourself Can Be Difficult. Looking And Smelling Like This Gentleman Will Give You A Leg Up On Your Competition.

It is difficult to imagine a more disagreeable group of people with whom to be squashed into a collective jelly than these mouth-breathers:  The slicked-back shifty dude with a cobweb tattooed in the corner of his eye socket; the skeevy sailor on leave and on the make, and the fifteen-year old runaway who, in other circumstances might give it up for him; incomprehensible migrants and their improperly-stowed livestock; the recently paroled ex-convict with his bottomless retinue of off-key Al Green numbers; and the smelly, twitchy guy for whom Jesus is always very near.  A further horror is the revelation that one of these bipedal humanoids is the bus driver.

There is a final indignity that in many ways surpasses the thousand tiny cuts suffered by these doomed commuters.  It is disheartening enough to accept that people are born and must live out their aching lives in the reeking cow-town that gave the world Victor “Balco” Conte, NKOTB’s Jordan Knight and hip-hop impressario, K-Fed; that people must also end their days there may be too much for the soul to bear.  No one should have to die in Fresno.

Fresno: Hot, Dirty And Full Of Suck.

They Get Facebook In Fresno. Tell ‘Em About It

CNN Refuses To Forget About Ted Stevens

10 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Culture, History, National Events, People, Politics, Scandal

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By Smaktakula

CNN’s piece, Former Sen. Ted Stevens Remembered, proves that even though the world has known of his death for a few hours now, he’s by no means forgotten.

Reportedly Very Pleased To Be Wrapped In The Warm Glow Of Nostalgia Accorded To The Recently Dead. He Would Appreciate If You Would Kindly Forget About The Corruption And Calling The Internet "A Series Of Tubes."

Forgotten Author Renounces Ancient Religion

10 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Christianity, Culture, General Foolishness, Hollywood, Mythology, People, Political Correctness, Religion, Social Networking

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By Smaktakula

Tween Romance author Anne Rice announced recently that she had renounced Catholicism.  This news serves to energize opponents of the Church, as well as to delight the author’s remaining fans, most of whom are all grown up now and just happy to know she’s still alive.               

In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life.               

Rice, whose main contribution to literature has been to purge the vampire genre of its remaining vestiges of heterosexuality, is also said to be privately fuming that her conversion to Catholicism didn’t prove to be the goldmine her agent promised it would.                    

It Would Seem We Have You To Thank For Twilight As Well. Hag.

 

Damn it, Anne–we’ve been through this a million times.  You know I said no such thing–I told you to go with Judaism. 

Not What You Were Looking For? Episode Three: The Search For Cock

09 Monday Aug 2010

Posted by in Baseball, Crime, Critters, Culture, Drug Culture, General Foolishness, Music, People, Race, Sports, World Affairs

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By Smaktakula

Presenting the third installment in our wildly popular series: Not What You Were Looking For?  In which we list some of the search engine terms (indicated in bold) by which you found us, and for which you should rightly be ashamed. 

You might also enjoy Still Not What You Were Looking For?  Conversely, you might really dislike it.  It’s not for us to decide.

promeethean times  And wee’re off!

cock riders  The preferred term is Weekend Motorcycle Club.

unemployment lazy   Yeah, folks weren’t too crazy about that one.

skankist  You’ll want to keep your eye out for our upcoming multi-part expose on skankism, ‘Skanks In The Crosshairs,” appearing some time in the next few weeks.  In the meantime, please enjoy.

sexy dick in mouth non  Oui!

obama rethinking marijuana  Will he rethink that rap video?

be glad you’re not that guy   Oh, we are.

sexy man spaghetti  Um.

anti george sherrill  You’ll find a home here, friend.

jay bush bean prison  If he’s not on the lookout for canine chicanery, Jay Bush might very well end his days in a Mexican jail.  And for Duke, the glue factory.

athretes  Their parents taste rearry, rearry good.

michael lohan cock  Isn’t he though?

fred phelps secret  The secret is that he’s a raging homo.

fat people running  Hmm, there’s something about this . . .

children running of the bulls spain   . . . and this, that gives Smaktakula hope that with some creative thinking, America might someday lick its little obesity problem. 

donkey cock   Are we naive to believe that you’re an early Eighties video game enthusiast with comically poor spelling?

walt stoelting blog  Sorry, Comrade–You’re thinking of Walt’s blog, Ruminations of a Junkie for Politics, or as we call it around here, Confessions of an America-Hating Man-Jezebel.

wyclef jean val jean bernard aristide  Oh, very clever.  We see what you did, combining future and former Haitian presidents Wyclef Jean and Jean Bernard Aristide with Jean Valjean, the doomed protagonist of Victor Hugo’s 19th Century French masterpiece, Les Miserables.  Actually, that is pretty clever.  And pointless.

pauly shore weed  It would explain a lot.

safe horse fuck movies  We know what all four of those words mean, but they don’t seem to work as a quartet.

miley cyrus delusional  Totally.

abigail folger  Isn’t she the young lady Tiger banged as an undergraduate at Stanford?

olive garden people   They’re not people.  THE FOOD IS PEOPLE! Oh, wait–no, sorry; the food is crap.  We were thinking of Soylent Green.

the violence and madness of arab muslim  Sounds like you’ve got your title all picked out.  We can’t help you.

nurses with dreadlocks Uh huh.  Good . . . very good.  Okay, now tell us what they’re wearing.  TELL US WHAT THEY’RE WEARING!

beautiful dreadlock guy  He’s not blond, we can tell you that much.

pakistani penis  Unfortunately, we’re out of that particular link.  How about some Turkish Tool?  No?  Mauritanian Meat-Sword?

elderly remote  Old people should not be allowed to handle the remote. 

penis in bosses mouth   Shh. Hush now, Boss.  Smaktakula isn’t paying you to talk.

dirty mullet  Is there any other kind?

happy thoughts  Happy to oblige! 

drugged raver  Fish in a barrel, man.  Fish in a barrel.

lorena bobbit and bull penis  We’re unclear as to what you hoped to find.  No, that’s quite all right–we don’t need to understand.

live aid  Damn it, Freddie Mercury, we hope you die! . . .What?  He did?  How? . . . Oh . . . Oh God, no. Why doesn’t anybody tell us about these things?  We’re so, so sorry.

asshole hairstyles   So do you mean . . .?  No, we’re sure you mean hairstyles that make you look like an asshole.  Pretty sure.

k2 inhalants  Thanks to Chinese technological know-how and the can-do spirit of the sweatshop, stoners now have a legal chemical alternative by which to get their fix.

black man cock  Really?  In 2010?  Promethean Times doesn’t judge a man by the color of his penis.  We do judge by length and thickness, however.  You have been warned.

vagina  Okay, this one’s a fake.   It’s just that all the Promethean penii make Smaktakula a tad insecure, and he wants to assure you he is such a virile He-Man that the all the pipes on his vast estate flow not with water, but rather with hot and cold running chicks.

Promethean Times thanks you, the lonely Internet phallophiliac, for making us America’s fastest-growing CockBlog!

Facebook Probably Isn’t Looking For Us Either. But Screw Them. Do You Sheeple Always Do What You’re Told?

Truman’s Momentous Decision Explained

06 Friday Aug 2010

Posted by in Asia, History, International Relations, Justice, Military, Mythology, People, Social Networking, World Affairs

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By Smaktakula

The decision could not have been one which Harry S Truman undertook lightly.  Having held the nation’s highest office for only a few months, Truman was faced with an ugly choice, the implications of which would reverberate more forcefully throughout history than any other presidential decision before or since.

"Once The Japanese See This Beauty At Work, They'll Be Lining Up To Surrender. The Second One's Just In Case."

With the War in Europe having finally worn to a bloody close, America’s attention at last turned to her enemies in the Far East.  Despite recent military setbacks and the capitulation of their German allies, Japanese morale remained high.  Tojo’s soldiers were tenacious, almost fanatically indefatigable, traits that earned them the grudging respect of their American counterparts.  Given that these troops, aided by militias and civilians, would now be fighting in mutual defense of their island home ensured that any outcome was bound to be messy.

The Theory Of Moral Relativity: You Can't Break A Few Eggs Without Making An Omelette.

In the end, Truman faced two unpalatable options.  The first, initially the more painful of the two, would require the larger up-front payment in American blood and treasure.   The Allied troops would be given the unenviable task of fighting their way onto entrenched beaches which would make the reception they received at Normandy look like France’s defense of its homeland in 1940.

Once the Allied forces managed to establish a  beachhead, they would then be forced to fight their way through to the island’s interior.  The invaders would be resisted at every step, resulting in a series of bloody actions and guerilla attacks in a gruelling war of attrition.  By the time the allied forces took Tokyo, they would have left in their wake an ocean of dead GIs, with legions of maimed young heroes sent home to an increasingly war-weary American public.  Victory could be won, but at a terrible cost.

The second choice would initally appear to be the easier of the two.  Howev–

"Easy Option! Easy Option!"

A-Rod Becomes Only Second Douche To Reach 600 Home Runs

04 Wednesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Baseball, Crime, Culture, Games, General Foolishness, History, National Events, People, Sports

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By Smaktakula

A-Rod trails legendary cocksucker Barry Bonds on the all-time MLB list for home runs hit by a douche.  

La Ducha Grande

Happy Thoughts For Tuesday: Thank God Michael Lohan Isn’t Your Dad

03 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Cinema, Culture, Drug Culture, Drugs, General Foolishness, Hollywood, National Events, People, Relationships, Scandal, Social Networking, Television

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By Smaktakula

In the tradition of such illustrious space-wasters as Brian “Kato” Kaelin and Kevin “K-Fed” Federline, unctuous pimp Michael Lohan has managed to keep food in his belly by crafting a persona famous for being semi-famous.  Lohan, no doubt a subscriber to the maxim, “All Roads Lead To Branson,” evinces no embarrassment that his appropriated “career” is supported only by clinging pathetically to his out-of-control offspring with all the tenacity and class of a Calcutta fare-dodger.

Lohan: Not A Homosexual, But A Massive Gaywad Nonetheless.

With Lohan’s bottom bitch in rehab following a short stint in jail, the talentless remora’s earning power has been drastically curtailed.  Typically, a cockroach will exhaust all means of escape when caught by surprise on a brightly lit kitchen floor. Periplaneta lohanis, a rare but particularly unpleasant sub-species, displays a markedly perverse tendency to do the opposite.  Rather than flee, Lohan is attracted to anything bright and shiny, scurrying from spotlight to spotlight in a desperate effort to wring every last drop from his fifteen minutes of unearned notoriety.

In a recent interview Lohan gushed, “I definitely blame myself and take responsibility for where my daughter is.”  It is extremely unlikely that Lohan would be so quick to take responsibility for his daughter’s actions if doing so carried with it any consequences.  However, since soul-searching self-recrimination costs Lohan nothing, and is unlikely to deprive him of his freedom, he can use it as a sop to the five or six people who have somehow managed to convince themselves that this leering cretin has in any way his daughter’s interests at heart.

Bonding With The Progeny: Bitch Better Have My Money.

It is certainly true that Lohan, abetted by his despicable ex-wife Dina, was a thoroughly shitty parent, and Promethean Times would like nothing better than to assign to Lohan the blame not only for the ruination of his own daughter, but also for such varied disasters as the kidnapping of the Lindbergh Baby, the Challenger Explosion, and greenlighting  New Coke.

Moreover, you can bet that no one holds Michael Lohan more responsible for the former starlet’s wretched condition than does his daughter, who has demonstrated a nearly sociopathic refusal to accept responsibility for her actions.  Nonetheless, it must generally be agreed that at some point a 24-year old woman is responsible for her own disastrous choices. With only two or three years at most left to live, Lindsay would be well-served to spend her remaining days judiciously.  Although such an outcome is unlikely, the younger Lohan can be thankful at least that her father cannot live her life for her.

Reminiscent Of Kapra's 'It's A Wonderful Life,' Lindsay Is Given The Opportunity To See What Her Father's Life Would Be Like If She Had Never Been Born.

Despite his staggering lack of either merit or talent, Michael Lohan stands head and shoulders above the teeming legions of Hollywood hangers-on.  It’s no feat to be hated by your ex-wife, and neither does the animosity directed at Lohan by his own offspring set him apart from rank-and-file deadbeats throughout the world.  Rather, it  is his perverse compulsion to share with the world through the miracle of the 24-hour news cycle his complete and utter failure as a father, husband and human being that catapults Michael Lohan into stratospheric company among the world’s elite paragons of cretinous douchebaggery.