Pay-Per-View Is For Suckers. Why Not Do What We Do, And Get Yourself A Nice Hiding Place In The Changing Area At Dress Barn?
Modern sexual tastes have become so benumbed that nubile young oil-slathered vixens are no longer enough to quench the depraved urges of men, which instead have become increasingly focused on the carnally cougarific qualities of the PajamaJeans-bedecked hausfrau.
Today, almost anyone can get himself arrested. It doesn’t take style, flair or even imagination–with 1% of the US population behind bars, it’s easy to see that getting busted in America is pretty routine. It’s not surprising then, that when individuals take the extra effort to ensure that their crimes are particularly shameful, we sit up and take notice. It is with no small amount of pleasure that we present to you the following tales of delightfully dimwitted and debased douchebaggery.
Enjoy!
“Hey Jordy! I Can See Your Trailer From Here!”
Keepin’ It In The Family II: The Cousining
Like all couples, Erica Wilson and Jesse Brooks of Rogersville, Tennessee had their share of fights. But in November of 2011, the two engaged in combat so fierce and bloody that the police were forced to intervene.
In the moments before the melee, the pair had been discussing their relationship. When Brooks began to affectionately grope Wilson, cooing “I want you,” she rebuffed him, explaining she expected more from their relationship than to simply be a “booty call.” The fight erupted in earnest when Brooks expressed a desire to keep the relationship strictly sexual, explaining that, as he and Wilson were first cousins, anything more would be kind of icky.
Take Some Comfort That They’re Not Breeding With The Normals.
Bushwhacked!
Megan Barnes isn’t a wealthy woman. She will never have a huge lawn to keep tight and trim, nor any landscaped topiary to adorn her home. Despite her obvious disadvantages, the skanky Southern belle prides herself on her personal grooming.
This attention to detail is the most likely the reason that, while driving her vehicle in Cudjoe Key, Florida, Barnes plowed into the back of a pickup truck. She lost control of the vehicle when she turned over the steering chores to her ex-husband, a passenger in the vehicle. However, the fastidious floozy provided a reason for her inattention, explaining that she had been on her way to see her boyfriend, and needed her hands free for the important work of shaving her ‘bikini area.‘
It Just Makes For Easier Access.
A Horror In Blue
Galway, Ireland, the folksy tourist-trap of the Emerald Isle, is typically a friendly town. Like all Irishmen, from Rosslare Harbour to Portrush, Galwegians are a drunken, cheerful lot. But a Halloween home invasion has loosed a dark current of fear throughout the city.
One innocent citizen was sleeping off his night’s meal of Guinness and Jameson when he was awakened by an intruder in his bedroom. To the man’s horror, the assailant was a six-foot tall smurf, who, in a final ghastly indignity, turned out to be drunk and horny. Although it was revealed to be a case of mistaken identity, with Inebriate Smurf in the wrong home, this news will most likely do little to ease the long-term psychological trauma inherent in such a terrifying episode.
Sometimes Papa Just Needs A Piece Of Ass That Isn’t Blue.
It's One Thing To Stick A Guy In The Crotch, But Talking Badly About His Mother Is Out Of Line.
Although it’s easy to forget about it, hockey has comprised a tiny piece of the American fabric for many years, although specifically how many we’re not sure. Despite that it isn’t very fun to watch, and like soccer, is mostly played by mulleted European dudes (in which category we include Canadians) with last names badly in need of an extra vowel or two, no one argues that hockey isn’t a tough sport. The fights, sharpened blades and indiscriminate sticking ensures that if not an eye or a few teeth, someone’s at least going to lose a couple pints of blood. And so it’s been for years: hockey is dangerous, and the people love it.
But an insidious new trend threatens to blight the wholesome free-for-all violence of hockey–unkind words. Now, not only must players contend with the physical dangers of their sport, but also be on guard for rising threats to their very delicate feelings. Sadly, as of this writing, no protective equipment exists to adequately shield a player’s self-esteem. This became apparent to hockey fans last week when Florida Panthers forward Krys Barch blithely skated over another player’s sense of self-worth.
Because Hearing Unpleasant Things Is Just Like Taking A Punch To The Face.
While most players would be content with an illegal check or a stick to the crotch, Barch blatantly disregarded the safety of all present when he–apparently–uttered an unidentified racial slur. Although the details remain murky, Barch allegedly hurled the epithet at Montreal’s P. K. Subban, whose parents hail from Jamaica, at the end of the first period en route to the Panthers’ 3-2 victory over Montreal. Subban himself did not hear the unidentified slur (or possibly, insinuated slur, which is just as bad), but an unnamed official did, and removed Barch from the game immediately. Subban is said to be making a speedy recovery after the vicious attack.
The NHL has yet to determine Barch’s fate, although the Panthers have kept the hockey hate-monger off the ice since the horrifying racial incident. The time away from hockey should give Barch some much-needed time to think about his behavior and the hate that lies behind it. A stick to the face hurts, but a careless stick to the soul can leave a wound too deep to heal.
If The World Were Run Like Your First-Grade Classroom, No One Would Ever Have Hurt Feelings Again.
"Tell Me Who's That Writin' / John The Revelator / Tell Me Who's That Writin' / John The Revelator / Who's That Writin' / John The Revelator Wrote The Book Of The Seven Seals"
If he had to do it again, musician Cee Lo Green most likely wouldn’t have ushered in 2012 with a blasphemous appearance on national television. He did, however, and just a few days later a reeling public is still hurt and confused.
It remains unclear just why the singer insulted the faith of millions with his callous comments, but unless he can somehow manage to right his rapidly sinking ship, Green’s actions may have seriously damaged his career. With the exception of the lunatic fringe, the music-buying public tends to avoid those artists associated with hate.
"He Got Hair Down Below His Knees / Hold You In His Armchair / You Can Feel His Disease"
Here’s what happened: Green was scheduled to perform John Lennon’s Imagine before an audience of millions on NBC’s New Year’s Eve broadcast from Times Square. But Green, apparently ignorant of the sacrosanctity of Lennon’s lyrics, changed the words of this immortal song. While Lennon originally sang “nothing to kill or die for/ and no religion too,” Green sang, “Nothing to kill or die for/ and all religion’s true.”
This is highly offensive to Lennon’s fans, who despise the dogma and rigidity of organized religion, and have loudly lambasted Green for his insensitivity. Lennonists contend that the Word of John must remain inviolable if it is to act as a bulwark against the crippling conformity and monomania of organized religion.
"Well You Know / We All Want To Change Your Head / You Tell Me It's The Institution / Well You Know / You Better Free Your Mind Instead"
And in someone so wise and strong / a desire for Yoko is hard to see / there won’t come an answer / let it be. ∞ T.
Suzie got pregnant. Her boyfriend was thrilled and wanted to be a father, but the dreams Suzie had for herself didn’t include a child. Against the wishes of her boyfriend, she bravely terminated the pregnancy. Suzie is an independent woman making choices for herself.
Because You Can't Let One Little Mistake Ruin Your Life.
Rob got his girlfriend pregnant. She wanted a baby and was ready to start a family, but the plans Rob had made for his future didn’t allow for the expense of raising a child. He didn’t want it, and demanded that his girlfriend terminate the pregnancy. She bravely refused, and took that selfish deadbeat to court. Rob is an asshole who’s only looking out for himself.
Well, Hopefully You Won't Make That Mistake Again. In The Meantime, You Have Eighteen Years To Think About What You've Done.
Choice is fundamental to our liberty. She decides whether to keep the child, and he decides whether to pay child support or go to jail for six months at a time. So in a way, everybody wins! ∞T.
We Looked Among All The Nations Of The World, And Could Find None More Deserving Of Our Praise.
We’ll admit it–we didn’t think it would come to this. We figured we’d be rich by now, or at the very least the Rapture would have freed us from our myriad woes. Since it didn’t (it didn’t, right?), we’ve picked ourselves up and resolved to make a game go of it. Moreover, we’re concentrating our hopes on the admittedly feeble chances the Mayans were right in predicting doom for 2012, and that very soon sweet nothingness will obliterate the pain that is existence.
Turns Out Somebody Made A Calculation Error When They Came Up With The 2012 Date. The Revised Figure Is 1492.
Until then, though, we’re even more delighted that, last December, we were the inaugural winner of the Promethean Times’ Person of the Year. Now, as we say goodbye to what we call ‘The Year of Promethean Times,’ it’s time to recognize a new mover and/or shaker for his/her/its contribution or impact to our world.
Having outstripped the rest of the field by light-years in the 2010 contest, Promethean Times could be forgiven for feeling like it has an edge in this year’s selection. After all, no one disputes that Promethean Times’ many, many contributions to the betterment of society rank among the more significant developments in 2011. Still, the beloved news journal remains humble. “Would we like to repeat?” asks Smaktakula, lead writer, “Absolutely–who wouldn’t? But we’ve got important events to cover, and we can’t really spend time thinking about things like that. Besides,” he adds, “Some other stuff happened.”
Among that stuff was a string of dead dicks, despots and men of low character. 2011 bid farewell to a number of those comical tyrants who, through nothing more than style, a ridiculous outfit and balls the size of grapefruit, commanded legions to do their bidding. Osama bin Laden’s cringing demise among the fluid-spattered catacombs of his porn library taught us all to laugh again, while the image of Keystone Cops stumbling after wacky sand-despot Muammar Gaddafi in a madcap chase aross the Libyan desert gave us reason to laugh even harder. The ascendance of Steve Jobs and Kim Jong-il to their respective heavenly kingdoms reminded us that Gods too can die.
Among The Many Proposed Reforms Of The 'Arab Spring' Which Began In The Winter Of 2011 Is A Calendar That's Worth A Damn.
Fortunately, the world is in no immediate danger of losing its megalomaniacal dickheads–it seems as if for every despot hanged, another sprouts from the puddle of piss at his twitching feet. The loss of ‘Lil Kim was a blow for North Korea, but made easier when Kim Jong-un waddled into his father’s shoes and accepted his mandate to drive the shitstain of a country further into the ground. Africa maintained its preeminence for venal strongmen throughout 2011, with brutal racist Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe single-lippedly keeping alive the Hitler Mustache, while Julius Malema, an exciting new face on the South African scene, promises to continue the ruination of the one-time economic powerhouse. And throughout the world, Muslims continued to blow things up in protest of the western world’s inexplicable and persistent view of Muslims as violent and reactionary. The West countered with fiercely abject apologies.
Fidel's Still Hanging In There.
Another theme embraced wholeheartedly worldwide was indignation. Contrary to the age-old adage, “What goes up must inevitably continue to do so,” 2011 saw a further decline in the still-ridiculous standard of living enjoyed by the West. Like going out to lunch with Grandma, the belief arose that it was enough to wait it out, and somebody would eventually pick up the check. The jarring reality that Grandma died during a visit to the ladies’ room brought angry people into the streets. In America, this phenomenon took the form of “Occupy Wall Street,” a Tea Party for the under-40 crowd, who still like to break things and enjoy the novelty of humping in Liberty Park, where rank coils of human feces suffice for scented candles and complete exposure for privacy.
For Real, We Totally Would.--Only, It Smells Like Pee And There's A Ton Of Poor People Walking Around.
The year was momentous for the United States. Although ending its involvement in Iraq (kinda, not really) the US steadfastly continued interminable bank-busting conflicts in places like Afghanistan, while also embarking on other daring adventures such as temporary conflicts in Libya and a secret war¹ in the Democratic Republic of Congo. On the home front, the government turned its attention against homegrown enemies, like pot shops in California, while Operation Fast & Furious ensured that narcos and Mexican Army assassins could continue to terrorize the citizenry of the failed state and disappear the occasional American tourist.
The year began with the Arizona shooting that turned US Representative Gabby Giffords into a living martyr, and the rest of the nation into a gang of loudmouthed assholes. Throughout the year the citizenry continued the tradition of killing one another, often in new and surprising ways.
America: Where Our Unsettling Anthropomorphic Monsters Are Just A Little Bit More Patriotic.
President Obama was once again unable to deliver on his promise to make the United States a magical Care Bear land of milk & honey scented with the sweet strains of children’s choirs singing liltingly of the unifying joy of diversity, but from their bastions in college quads and Code Pink meeting-houses, the President’s dwindling cadre of true believers assured us it was Republican obstructionism. And secret racism. Republicans countered that their sole aim was to restore sanity to a beleaguered nation, and promised that only as a last resort would they burn the fucking thing to the ground.
The Bad News Is That Rome Is Burning. The Good News Is That Everyone In Our Studio Audience Will Be Going Home Tonight With Shiny New Fiddles!
Political penii² proved productive in promoting prick-principled puns, as well as gratuitous alliteration. The destructive power of the penis was ably demonstrated by Arnold Schwarzenegger, who showed us that even a wealthy Hollywood/Government powerhouse with an even richer (albeit skeletal) wife will fuck an ugly woman if given the opportunity. Late night talk-show hosts methodically shook every last droplet of humor from the Weiner situation, before putting away their pricks at the disgraced NY Rep.
For Newlyweds Lisa And Bingo Lamb, A Day At The Fair Is A Great Reason To Dress Up.
As did the death of beautiful paper-doll Diana Spencer over a decade before, the wedding of Prince William to commoner Kate Middleton proved Americans are still fascinated with the royal family from which their forefathers once strove so mightily to emancipate themselves. Although America does not have a royalty per se, the Twenty-First Century has seen the rise of a new class of publicly-owned do-nothings. Paramount among these is the vile Kardashian Klan, a bloodline and marriage-based conglomerate that may just be the strongest argument yet advanced in support of the Armenian Holocaust.³ Kim Kardashian’s sham-marriage to basketball legend somebody-or-other netted the vapid perfume-tycoon more money than you’re likely to see in a thousand lifetimes.
There were a few stars whom we were relieved to see survive 2011, not least because their delightfully destructive antics provide regular low-hanging fruit for Promethean Times.Toothless cretin Charlie Sheen managed to bring his life and career to a shattering halt, suffering the additional injury of losing his place in America’s most beloved half-hour of insipidity to a genial retard. Yet through a heroic lack of self-awareness and the public’s perverse predilection for the doomed, the former Carlos Estevez is more popular than ever. The same cannot be said for Lindsay Lohan, once hailed as ‘The Flower of American Skankhood,’ who like Sheen, is one of 2012’s most likely fatalities. Despite a loving and supportive family, worldwide adoration and impeccable personal hygiene, the only audience to prove capable of tolerating LiLo’s act for any length of time were her customers at the LA County Morgue.
It Gets A Lot Less Sexy When You Realize She'll Be Dead Soon.
Sport continued to be a necessary diversion around the world, uniting and dividing people not by races or ethnicity, but by the overpriced merchandise they wore. In American sports, Jesus, sole scion of the Jehovah Dynasty, briefly tried His hand at football before quietly retiring once again to the sidelines, much to the dismay of football fans in the Mountain States. Although a strike marred the beginning of the 2011-2012 NBA season, the 2010-2011 season ended in a thrilling contest that satisfied both haters of LeBron James and fans of Schadenfreude in general. In what was nearly universally regarded as a black year for baseball, the one bright spot was the continuing absence of a World Series trophy in the Lone Star State. And in sports outside of America’s shores, a group of Japanese ladies won some soccer thing.
A Little Bit Like Schnitzel.
With all these notable events and people, both tragic and sublime, from which to choose, our editors had an unenviable task in determining Promethean Times’ Person of the Year for 2011. It was only after a thorough and at-times grueling vetting process, at several points during which the acrimony grew both increasingly bitter and ad hominem, that the worthy candidate emerged. Promethean Times is proud to name as this year’s Promethean Times’ Person of the Year and our first two-time back-to-back recipient, Promethean Times, honoring the venerable publication for its indefatigable and often thankless dedication to fighting the barbaric practice of puppy-killing.
Bravo, Promethean Times.
NEVER AGAIN.
To The Dear Friends To Whom We Bid Farewell In 2011: May You Find Yourselves In Heaven Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead:
Amy Might Still Be Alive If She Had Filled Her Drug-Pipe With Harmless Tobacco Instead Of What She Actually Filled It With--Drugs.
The Thing We'll Miss Most? The Laughter.
CNN News Personality Anderson Cooper Was Too Beautiful To Live.
Sure, It's A Tragedy For The Ages, But We Take Some Small Consolation In The Knowledge That There's One Less Drunk On The Streets Tonight.
Quiet, Modest And Unassuming, Mr. Savage Exemplified The Qualities For Which America Is Admired Across The Globe.
Get It? We're Being Metaphorical. Trust Us, Chicks Dig Metaphors.
The Colonel's Friends All Believed It Was Gaddafi's Fascination With Thriller-Era Michael Jackson That Prevented His Promotion To General.
This Beautiful Creature Learned Too Late That If Something Lives, The Germans Will Find A Way To Kill It.
This One Time, When Smaktakula Was In Juvenile Hall On An Arson Charge, He Met A Guy Who Claimed To Be Jani Lane's Half-Brother, And Damned If The Kid Didn't Look Just Like Him. No, That's It.
Old Friend, We'll Miss You Most Of All. Circumstances Demand That We Dispense With The Childish, Insensitive Caricatures Upon Which We So Often Rely, But Rather, Respect Your Culture By Offering You A Farewell Not Only More Dignified, But In Keeping With The Proud Traditions Of Korea. In This Last Hour, Dear Leader, We Say Simply, "Sayonara."
¹ While it’s not actually a secret that 100 US ‘advisers’ have been sent to the DRC to help combat the Lord’s Resistance Army, it might as well be for all the media talks about it. ∞T.
² ‘Penises’ is the accepted plural of ‘penis,’ but Promethean Times has always been, and will forever proudly remain, a penii-loving publication. ∞T.
³ It’s a joke, Tanzr–don’t let it curdle your yogurt soda. Yes, what happened to your great-great aunt whatsername at the hands of the Turks all those years was a tragedy, but at least we provided a link to Wikipedia. That’s a hell of a lot more than the US Government ever did. ∞T.
The Whole Family Gets A Big Kick Out Of Dad's Annual Tradition Of Asking Smaktakula If This Will Be The Year He Finally Comes Out Of The Closet.
It happens every year–wherever families are gathered together for the holidays, dark forces arise to ensure that some asshole ruins Christmas for everybody. Again. This holiday-themed poltergeist may manifest as anything from your sister’s annual recrimination-swollen weep-orgy to your uncle’s unquenchable lust for the young cousins. It might simply be dad not showing up again. Just as there are a myriad of families, each with its own holiday traditions, there are also just as many traditional ways to fuck those families up for the holidays.
You Might Not Think A Guy Like This Would Amount To Much, But He Kicked Christmas' Ass In A Big Way.
But as with so many things done well–particularly with holiday-themed acrimony– it’s easy to be undone by routine. The challenge for many lies in blighting the family gathering to such a degree that it remains a painful and unshakable legacy for generations to come. The unfortunately-named Azizolah “Boba” Yazdanpanah, of Grapevine Texas, found a way to do just that.
Heretofore, All The Dudes We've Known Named 'Boba' Have Been Hella Cool.
When Christmas morning found Yazdanpanah dressed in a Santa suit at the door of his estranged wife’s home, unsuspecting relatives welcomed him in the spirit of the holiday, no doubt suspecting that Yazdanpanah’s antics would amount to no more than his annual tradition of making a complete ass of himself in front of his beleaguered and long-suffering family. A niece tweeted, ” We just got here and my uncle is here too. Dressed as Santa. Awesome.” She added, ominously, “Now he wants to be all fatherly and win father of the year.”
If You're Gonna Do It, Do It Right. That's All We're Saying.
This proved a tragic misreading of Yazdanpanah’s intentions. Rather than ‘father of the year,’ the deranged douchebag’s mad goals were to summon the demoniac specter of Christmastime abandon, and loose the blood-maddened yule-beast upon everything he had ever loved in a paroxysm of Bah-Humbug Scroogery. A perfectionist until the last, Yazdanpanah had invested too much into his ghastly scheme to singlehandedly suck the joy from Christmas to compromise his mission with haste or sloppiness. Yazdanpanah graciously joined his family in opening gifts and celebrating the birth of the Prince of Peace before slaying everyone present with a handgun he had stashed in his Santa suit.
Sometimes Just A Little Extra Touch Is All It Takes To Ruin Christmas For Generations.
Despite Being Good All Year, Smaktakula Received Only A $25 Gift Card From Bed, Bath & Beyond. Where The Fuck Is His Benefit Concert?
You didn’t get what you wanted for Christmas and it sucks so bad it feels like a kick in the face. Your friends all got iPads–which they’re not even gonna use!–and all you got was two reams of college-rule notebook paper from your grandma.¹ We feel you, Bro.
If You Can Deal With Both A Lifetime Of Seething Resentment And The Culpability In The Complete Ruination Of Your Offspring, Then You Go Ahead And Buy It.
If we might offer a tiny balm for your first world boo-boo, concentrate instead on the relatively lavish life you live in comparison to the rest of the world (and remember, not everybody lives in Sweden, Singapore or Andorra). Don’t let yourself be bummed by the idea that you’re one paycheck from being homeless. In reality, you’re one paycheck away from ruining your parents’ plan to turn your old room into a leather-dungeon, and believe us, their degeneracy can wait a year or two until you meet a nice girl who makes you go out and find a job.
Our Standard Of Living Affords Some Pretty Wacky Pursuits.
Rather, envision life without the great many amenities–among them clean running water, a solid infrastructure, depraved internet porn–available to every man, woman and child throughout the first world. Think of life then not in terms of paychecks, but of meals. You might, for example, prefer not to eat pork products²–in the first world food preferences are among our myriad everyday extravagances. It behooves you to remember, however, the ugly reality is that you’re at most seventy-two to ninety-six hours from “Whom must I blow for a half-eaten McRib Sandwich?”
We Had A Big Breakfast, So The Best You’re Gonna Get Right Now Is A Hand-Job.
¹ This actually happened to Smaktakula one year. You’re awesome, Mrs. B! ∞T.
² That Smaktakula assiduously refrains from eating pork indicates he’s most likely a Muslim or Jew, albeit one who (as indicated in the first footnote) celebrates Christmas. ∞ T.
America Doesn't Need Another Privileged Child Of Wealth, But A Self-Made Man, Like Donald Trump's Father.
America’s Republican Party got a shot in the arm with the recent news that Donald ‘The Donald’ Trump has switched his party affiliation from Republican to Independent. The real estate mogul and vulgar television personality had in years previous been registered as a Democrat.
Trump’s own plans are confusing. According to a source he may be planning an independent run in 2012, but also claims he will support a particular Republican candidate when the time comes. There is the danger that Trump’s opportunistic actions will divide the Republican field, allowing Barack Obama to win a second term despite his administration’s flagging popularity. Experts agree that as catastrophic as this situation would be, it remains a small price to pay to avoid a Trump presidency.
Trump Would Have Brought Desperately Needed Dignity To The Republican Race.
Here are a few other faces whose defection would buoy the Republican Party:
Unfailingly Reminds The Public Of A Slimy Amphibian. Since Willard Romney Has A Manly Nickname Taken From A Piece Of Sporting Equipment,. Maybe They Should Have Called Gingrich "Jock."
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"For God's Sake, Daddy--Don't Do It!" This Little Santora Loves The Republican Party THAT Much.
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Yeah, We Get It. Kryptonite Will Solve Our Energy Problems.
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Might Be A Little More Interesting If She Were Describing Her High School Boyfriend, And Not The Rapture.
Promethean Times 