Category Archives: General Foolishness

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.

Mongolian Nazis? We Get It. Wait . . . No, We Don’t.

11 Wednesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Asia, Culture, General Foolishness, History, Mythology, Race, Relationships, Social Networking, World Affairs

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By Smaktakula

For fans of historical reenaction and other loveless shut-ins who spend their days pondering what would happen if Adolf Hitler and Genghis Khan united in an anachronistic super-villain team up, this is as close as you’re likely to get.            

Give Them Points For Effort At Least: “Führer” Is Hard Enough To Pronounce With An American Accent.

The other villagers are said to be searching desperately for a way to gently shepherd these confused young men into accepting some uncomfortable, yet indelible, truths.       

Something’s Cooking In The World Of Competitive Sauna

10 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Culture, Duh, Europe, Games, General Foolishness, Health, Sports

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By Smaktakula

The sporting world is still aboil about the news dispatches steaming out of Finland reporting the tragic death of Russian quasi-athlete Vladimir Ladyzhensky.  Ladyzhensky, along with his Finnish opponent Timo Kaukonen, collapsed during the annual World Sauna Championships in Finland.  Both men suffered severe burns and were admitted to the hospital, where Ladyzhensky later died.                             

It May Look Easy, Kids--But If You Want To Make It To The Big Leagues You've Got To Say Your Prayers, Eat Your Vitamins And Practice, Practice, Practice!

Thanks in large part to recent media coverage, a new generation of fans is coming to appreciate this exciting and fast-growing ‘sport.’  The roots of competitive sauna reach far back into Finland’s history; hanging around in a hot, steamy room with other dudes has long been a favored pastime.  The ghastly exercise in masochism has been a professional sport in Finland since 1999.                             

Although most Finns readily welcome the dizzying globalization of their sport, they remain fiercely proud of its Finnish origins.  This pride has manifested itself in a variety of ways, including the recent creation of a Finnish Bureau of Tourism.  The Bureau’s first act as a body was to devise the popular slogan: Finland–A Little More Than Just Reindeer!                          

When It Was A Game: Florida Prison Farm Inmates Played Not For Money, But For The Love Of Competitive Sauna.

Ladyzhensky’s shocking death can’t help but cast a pall over professional sauna.  Inwardly, everyone connected with the sport is no doubt plagued by the same internal question: Could we have done something to prevent this?                             

Sadly, the answer is No.  Self-recrimination is a part of human nature, and while some soul-searching is probably inevitable, it comes to little in the end.  Although this terrible event will no doubt be parsed and dissected by historians for generations to come, the exact cause of this tragedy will never truly be known.  That athletes die sometimes with no apparent cause is perhaps the cruelest lesson that sports can teach us.                          

"What The Fuck Is Wrong With You People? Damn."

Vladimir Ladyzhensky may have left competitive sauna, but the rare Russian will forever be seared into the collective consciousness of the game he loved.   His fellow competitors will no doubt shed a collective tear* in his memory as they take that first barefoot step into the searing death-oven that is the symbol of this much-beloved pseudosport.  Ladyzhensky wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.                             

*This is intended for figurative purposes only.  When one’s profession involves killing time in a 230° hot box, remaining well-hydrated is the surest strategy to victory, and may help to stave off death for a few precious seconds.

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?

Sweet Lady Meg

05 Thursday Aug 2010

Posted by in Culture, Drug Culture, Drugs, General Foolishness, National Events, Prison Culture

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By Smaktakula

In years past, degenerate types seeking a new high would have to work for it.  Forced either to rely on the often-dubious advice of older siblings or else trust their luck to trial and error, this avenue of experimentation was open only to the most jaded wastrel.             

Moreover, these methods also helped to maintain society’s delicate equilibrium, relying upon natural selection to thin out the ranks of these cognonauts.  A great many burnouts had to suffer exquisitely painful deaths before one finally stuck his tongue to the correct toad.

The Toad's Conundrum: Are You Tripping Balls Or Dying Horribly From Neurotoxic Shock?

Thanks to the pernicious influence of the Internet, even good kids can fall victim to the allure of instant gratification and readily attainable thrills.  Much has been made of huffing, and the deadly highs which beckon from the colorful bottles under the sink.                

But while America’s attention is diverted by the lurid dangers of Pine-Sol, who’s watching the spice rack?               

The Brown Lady: The Love She Offers Is Only An Illusion; Her Heart Is Black And Full Of Nutmeg.

Thanks to the ubiquity of instant media, today’s would-be druggie is no longer likely to be a college sophomore reading  The Autobiography of Malcom X the first time he discovers the hidden threat in every home.  Nutmeg is an hallucinogen.              

Sometimes referred to as ‘the Spice,’ ‘Margaret,’ ‘Sweet Lady Meg,’ or just ‘Meg,’ nutmeg can induce hallucinations if taken in sufficient quantities.  However, most law enforcement organizations don’t consider it much of a threat, citing its  low-energy, long-delayed high, and noting that Meg’s effects are best experienced in conjunction with other psychoactive drugs, such as marijuana. 

“Plus,” says ‘Eric,’ a sixteen-year old Meghead, “It tastes like ass.”              

0.2 Oz Indonesian Fine. Street Value: $3.65

Despite nutmeg’s relatively low popularity as a recreational drug, some parents feel it puts at risk America’s most vulnerable children: those too incompetent or lazy to shoplift a bottle of Robitussin DM from Rite-Aid.

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

Something Must Be Done About Blond Guys With Dreadlocks

04 Wednesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Crime, Culture, General Foolishness, Race, Relationships

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By Smaktakula

Race has always been a contentious topic, never more so than in today’s overcharged, media-driven fishbowl.  Issues of cultural heritage are similarly sensitive.  A longstanding and often-fiery debate continues over the question of whether the cultural properties of a race are best kept within the purview of that specific culture, or whether these formerly cultural properties be adopted by the greater culture at large to reach their full significance, thereby risking dilution.

If You Find Yourself Asking, "Why Do Dreadlocks Look Great On This Guy, But Make Me Look Like An Asshole?", Take A Few Deep Breaths And Do Your Best Not To Swallow Your Own Tongue. Promethean Times Is Here To Help.

There are no easy answers to this question, and we will not attempt any here.  Instead, can we all agree right now that blond guys need to stop wearing their hair in dreadlocks?

It Should Not Be. How Can A Loving God Let This Happen?

Promethean Times fails to see the appeal in going through life with a filthy piece of macramé clinging to your scalp.  It would appear that nature agrees with our dim assessment of the hairstyle’s aesthetic value, based on the dubious quality of the soupy pool from which these bipedal lhasa apsos are forced to choose their mates.  There are certainly more hygienic ways to attract a mate, and lacking a hairstyle that readily identifies you as a douchebag greatly increases your potential to perform intercourse with a partner who has both an established pattern of bathing and at least a nodding acquaintance with a razor.

At Least These Two Aren't Spreading Their Aberrant Chromosomes Among The Normals.

There is a danger here more insidious than simply looking like a dickhead.  Although cultural watchdogs are particularly vigilant against cultural theft, no one is guarding against the danger that more insipid elements of white culture will find their way into black culture.  Witness this disturbing back-door attempt to introduce the mullet into Rastafarian culture:

Curiously, Smaktakula Feels In No Way Hypocritical In Wanting To Beat This Punk's Lily-White Ass.

No blond man, no matter how good-looking, has ever been anything other than a pitiable clown buried under a snarl of dreads.  Anyone who thinks that he might be the blond Philosopher’s Stone, gifted with the miraculous ability to transform shit into chic, is dangerously deluded.  Unfortunately, until these misguided souls accept that cool-looking dreadlocks are forever denied them,* the rest of us will have to suffer these flesh-and-blood Raggedy Andys.

*And you can forget about not looking like an asshole while fast-dancing.

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.

Everything Suddenly Coming Up Promethean Times

02 Monday Aug 2010

Posted by in Cinema, Culture, Duh, General Foolishness, Hollywood, Music, National Events, People, Relationships, Television

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A Very Special Message From Smaktakula

Much like human papillomavirus in America’s high schools, Promethean Times is pretty hard to avoid these days.                            

Thanks, Formerly Promising 90's Alternative Icon And Cataclysmically-Retarded, Silicone-Infused Temporary Wife! We're Excited Too!

Find Promethean Times At                             

WWW.PROMETHEANTIMES.COM                               

For our elderly or intellectually disinclined readers:  Don’t get excited; the old address will still take you where you want to go.                               

Join the Promethean Cadre on Facebook.                              

Not telling your Facebook friends about Promethean Times is tantamount to admitting you don’t really have any friends.                              

                       

Now that Promethean Times tweets, Twitter is culturally relevant.  Follow Promethean Times on Twitter.             

The cruel remark about not having any friends if you don’t spread the Promethean Gospel applies to Twitter as well, in the unlikely event that there remained any lingering ambiguity.                              

  

"GLEEBUL FUM! Promethean Times. HUURRR..."

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