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Tag Archives: foolish choices

The Aging Gunslinger

09 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Smaktakula in Stupidity, True-Ass Tales

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

absinthe, alcohol, cannabis, chicanery, dope, drinking contest, foolish choices, gamesmanship, hemp, herb, Jägermeister, marijuana, peyote, reefer, Sun Tzu, sweet sweet cheeba, Tardsie's True-Ass Tales, vomiting, wagers, weed

By Tardsie

The Gunslinger Sleeps With One Eye Open, Forever Waiting For The Younger Man With A Faster Gun He Knows Must Someday Come For Him.

I drank a lot when I was younger. Too much, I guess. I enjoyed the consciousness-altering aspect of  booze, and for a while, there was a novelty to getting fucked-up. When, as is the nature of novelty, it wore off, I found I didn’t drink so much anymore.

Some years later, it turned out that a co-worker of mine, John, was acquainted with some of my old college friends. My college friends regaled John with only the most debauched and asinine of my collegiate exploits. It was a somewhat incomplete picture of the person I had been as a youngster, and about a million miles from the reality of my life at that moment. Based largely on this erroneous image, John challenged me to a drinking contest at an upcoming office party.

A drinking contest? The idea was a loser from the get-go. I had largely put my boozing behind me, but John had kept himself in fighting trim.  This was a bet I was almost certain to lose.

It’s Hard To Pinpoint Any One Particular Reason I Stopped Drinking So Much.

Faced with this challenge today, I would have no problem begging off, using my lameness and general decrepitude as an excuse. But at twenty-five or so, I was still very much in the throes of a delayed adolescence, and my carefully crafted self-image would not allow me to ignore this challenge from a younger, stronger, faster predator. Moreover, I would have to go beyond merely showing up for John’s challenge; I could not simply shuffle complacently to my own ass-whipping. Not only did I have no choice but to accept, I had to win.

To assist me in this endeavor, I had a card up my sleeve worth a dozen battle-hardened livers, an advantage so pronounced as to change the course of battle even before the sound of the first shot: my exemplary cunning. John believed that the drinking contest would begin–and thus be won or lost–when we first took up our glasses. He was wrong.

“All right,” I said, showing him my game face, “Let’s do it. But I don’t want to pussy around, dude–if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right: we’ll drink Jäger.”

Jäger Has Made My Life Immeasurably Richer Simply By Being In It, And I Don’t Care Who Knows It.

For those unfamiliar with the cough syrup-meets-black licorice charm of Jägermeister, the iconic kraut tipple is made from a variety of spices and despite being only 70 proof, has fostered a reputation for fucking your shit up. People spoke of Jäger in the breathless, quasi-mystic tones normally reserved for absinthe and peyote. Some people said it contained traces of deer blood, others opium. For whatever reason, I’ve never had a problem with Jäger, and consider its fearsome reputation to be entirely overblown.

But that reputation had precisely the effect I’d intended. Having proposed the wager, John could hardly refuse. He agreed, but with markedly less enthusiasm than when he first suggested it.  Jägermeister it would be.

I Heard About A Dude Who Named His Child–HIS CHILD!–“Jäger Meier.” Some People Should Not Be Allowed To Have Children.

The party was at a co-worker’s house, and being a work-related party, both John and I agreed not to start our competition until later in the evening when the more reputable guests had left. John and I went to the keg together and filled our cups. Although John and I both returned to the keg several times that evening, I was nursing my beer and “filling” it when it was already nearly full. John, however, appeared to be drinking with abandon.

When it was time to throw down in our liquor-based contest of manhood—well, I guess you already know that I kicked his ass. It wasn’t even close. When I left the party, John was on hands & knees in the front lawn, heaving a black and hideous mess into the grass. I gave his shoulder a squeeze and said some comforting but ultimately condescending words as I passed. I kept my dignity all the while, and waited at least until I was in the car before I began convulsively to spew, coating the door and good portion of the seat. Happily for everyone, it was my girlfriend’s car.

***

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.

Sun Tzu

***

6 Haiku Of Dubious Quality

10 Tuesday Jul 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

foolish choices, haiku, Smaktakula's transcendent awesomeness, Why am I so stupid?

By Smaktakula

Because We’re All About Overly-Structured Ancient Art Forms.

Another Anthem For Doomed Youth (Apologies to Wilfred Owen) or What I Saw At Albertsons The Other Day

Flanked by grandparents
a pregnant teen stumbles past
lost in her iPad.

Enjoy That iPad, Honey. That’s About As Good As It’s Gonna Get For The Next Two Decades.

I.

When you aren’t around
That’s when the shit goes down.
Life’s peripheral.

II.

Nothing in this world
will keep from me the knowledge
that you are not here.

Oh Yeah, We Can Be As Schmaltzy As A Fucking Hallmark When We Put Our Minds To It.

III.

Love brings to life joy
and death its awful lesson.
Sweet hope sustains us.

IV.

Failure’s Epitaph:
I knew I couldn’t beat them
and so I didn’t.

It Can Be Liberating To Finally Realize That Even The Almighty Regards You As Something Of A Punchline.

On My Transcendent Awesomeness

I am so damn cool
that I have made language itself my bitch, enabling me to pack this sucker with more syllables than would traditionally be allowed in
proper haiku form.

It’s So Very True. But You Already Knew That, Didn’t You?

The Apocalypse Loves Chachi

08 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Entertainment, Stupidity

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Chachi Arcola, crappy shows, foolish choices, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, irony, John the Revelator, Scott Baio, We can't decide whether 'Chachi Arcola' sounds more like a soft drink or a venereal disease

By Smaktakula

It’s a sobering discovery that some human beings–individuals competent enough at least to complete a purchase at a large retail store–have thought it an equal exchange to forfeit $10 of their own or someone else’s hard-earned money for the complete first season of Charles in Charge.

They Called The Show ‘Charles in Charge,’ But You Know What? Charles Wasn’t Really In Charge At All. That’s Irony. People Appreciate Irony.

When society has become so benumbed, decadent and depraved that it stands unmoved in the face of such cultural blasphemy, surely it heralds the approach of the four terrible riders prophesied so long ago by John the Revelator.

Deadlines, Or Why I Hate Audiobooks

30 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Stupidity

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

audiobooks ruin lives, foolish choices, masochism, Why am I so stupid?, Why God? Why?

By Smaktakula

The Payout From Smaktakula’s Insurance Policies Will Help Next-Daddy Raise His Kids In Style.

Pray that again I never shall find,

Something quite so much a grind.

Task upon toil  for hours untold,

My sonorous voice …

Sorry to break the moment, but I wanted to mention that, since you never get to hear me speak, I do have a pretty decent voice. Old people in particular seem to like it. Go figure.

We’ll just start up again on that last take. And one…two…

My sonorous voice quickly sounds old.

Want to improve your literary health?

Take a volume from atop your shelf.

Rather than listen to someone else suck,

Read a real book you illiterate fuck!

They Ruin Lives!

He’s just foolin’, Spoken Word. You know he loves you.  ∞ T.

The Comb-Over

04 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Stupidity

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Baby Huey, comb-overs, Donald Trump, fauxhawks, foolish choices, mullets, skullets, straight hair

By Smaktakula

True, The Bitches Love This Guy No Matter How He Wears His Hair. You, However, Aren't So Lucky.

Having shitty hair at some point in your life is a cherished rite of passage. Almost everyone has been the victim of a bad haircut (Smaktakula’s freshman-year experience with the butchers at SuperCuts earned him the delightful nicknames ‘Baby Huey’ and Q-Tip for a time), and just as many have intentionally made themselves the laughingstock of the next generation all for the sake of passing fashion. We understand–sometimes it seems as if your fauxhawk will remain forever timeless.

FUCK SUPERCUTS!

There are also much less forgivable examples of follicle faux pas, like the mullet, dreads for blond dudes or straight hair on black men. It becomes far more difficult to regard these fashion sins as harmless affectations when–unlike the hightop, beehive or perms for white ladies, which have thankfully gone the way of the dodo–these hair-don’ts cling tenaciously to life despite the transient nature of fashion. Although we have heretofore not highlighted this cancer of men’s fashion, the comb-over remains every bit as insidious as any other scissor-inspired abortion.

Or, Why Not Paste Your Naked Scalp With The Dark, Viscous Snot Of An Emphysema Patient? Same Effect.

The hairstyle’s complete unsuitability to the modern age is no less glaring than the glossy skull ‘hidden’ beneath a stringy swatch of greasy strands. We remind bald men that if they truly want to look like assholes, there are many ways to do it that don’t also involve looking like a twitchy child molester. It will take just one good gust of wind to rip that wispy growth from your oily pate, the lank locks left flapping in the wind like the tail of a kite, revealing not only the wearer’s unpleasantly asymmetrical baldness but also his dishonesty.

For Those Dudes Whose Male-Pattern Baldness Thwarts Their Efforts To Grow A Mullet--We Proudly Present 'The Skullet.'

Happily, as men rediscover the knack of pretending to embrace their receding hairlines and hairless spots by shaving themselves bald,¹ the comb-over seems to be gradually fading away. New scientific innovations in transplant procedures as well as topical hair-growth ointments have joined forces with a rising acceptance of baldness to edge the comb-over toward oblivion. But like polio, this icky, deceptive hairstyle is still with us, and until it is nothing but a bad memory, the danger of looking like a complete asshole is still very real.

No, No--By All Means Keep It. Not Only Does It Cleverly Disguise Your Baldness, But Your Uncanny Resemblance To A Cockatoo Helps People Forget That You're Actually A Turd.

¹Shorter gentlemen (5’9 and under) may additionally wish to grow a goatee. ∞ T.

It’s Okay Kansas, You Just Don’t Know No Better

11 Sunday Mar 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, News, Politics, Stupidity

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Amelia Earhart, bad decisions, Dennis Hopper, don't vote stupid, Dwight Eisenhower, even Jesus thinks Fred Phelps sucks, foolish choices, Gwendolyn Brooks, Kansans, Kansas, Kansas City, Langston Hughes, Missouri, places that suck, Reverend Fred Phelps, Rick Santorum, Westboro Baptist Church, Why am I so stupid?

By Smaktakula

Rick Santorum has been declared the winner of the Kansas caucuses!

Before You Judge The Kansans Too Harshly, Put Yourselves In Their Shoes. If You Were Forced To Live Out Your Days In An Anachronistic, Wheat-Choked Countertop Of A State With A Holstein Named Beulah As Your Sole Companion, You'd Likely Make Some Nutty Decisions Now And Then.

Did you know that Langston Hughes, Dennis Hopper, Gwendolyn Brooks, Amelia Earhart and Dwight Eisenhower all hailed from Kansas? Not a one of them thought enough of the place to die there.¹

Even Kansas' Most Famous City Isn't Actually IN Kansas.²

¹The Santorum vote starts to make more sense when you realize that Fred Phelps and his odious Westboro Baptist Church hail from Kansas. ∞ T.
²Okay, there is technically a Kansas City, Kansas–but you won’t ever be required to know that. ∞ T.

Singer Whitney Houston Dies

11 Saturday Feb 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Entertainment, Music, News

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Bobby Brown, Celebrity Death Watch, dead celebrities, death by Bobby Brown, death by drugs, drugs, encephalitis is no laughing matter, foolish choices, gold digger, love is blind and stupid, so sad, Whitney Houston

By Smaktakula

Whitney Wasn't Always A Reality Star. Once Upon A Time Being Famous Required Having Talent.

Whitney Houston is dead at 48 a representative of the beloved singer announced today. Although cause of death has yet to be determined, even an encephalitic gibbon knows that drugs were the most likely culprit.

After a series of chart-busting hits the 1980s and the early 1990s, Houston’s reputation and career began a rapid simultaneous decline in the late 1990s, as the multiple-platinum artist devolved into a ranting, crack-addled bag lady. The enduring tragedy of Houston’s story is that her beauty, voice and  innocence–the three transcendent qualities which made the performer unique–had been squandered long before she died.

Kids, Don't Do Drugs. But If You Absolutely Must Do Drugs, For Heaven's Sake, Do Them Correctly.

As with all stories of addiction and degradation, Houston’s fall did not occur overnight. She came to her abject and fatal road by a variety of paths, each winding tortuously through thickets of shame and poor choices and into the pungent morass of despair. Those various and meandering trails, however, if diligently followed, all terminate at a single source.

Nice One, Asshat.

Santorum Trifecta!

08 Wednesday Feb 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bad decisions, Colorado, foolish choices, Minnesota, Missouri, Mitt Romney, presidential primary, Rick Santorum, stupid voters, United States of America, Why am I so stupid?

By Smaktakula

Rick Santorum turned a great many heads on Tuesday when  he apparently swept the Republican primaries in Minnesota, Missouri and Colorado, proving once again that running right down the center of the USA is a big ol’ streak of stupid.

Folks, You May Think You're Being Funny, But This Is An Important Job. Don't You See You're Just Giving Him Hope?

You promised you wouldn’t vote stupid! ∞ T.

A Gift For Your Stupid Or Friendless Child

30 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Entertainment, Stupidity

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

brilliant scams, foolish choices, friendless losers, Intifada, pet rock, ridiculous fads, Why am I so stupid?

By Smaktakula

True, Rocks Picked Up Off The Ground Work Just As Well And Cost Nothing, But They Don’t Come With The Attractive Packaging.

The Pet Rock, the novelty item which in the 1970s turned inventor/con-man Gary Dahl into an overnight millionaire, is back! This amazing product, which three decades ago took people a whopping six months to figure out was just an ordinary rock no different from those found in their yards, has returned to separate an entirely new generation from its money.

Pet Rock Can Provide Hours Of Entertainment.

Despite Its American Origins, Pet Rock Is Popular Throughout The World.

Pet Rock Enthusiasts Even Have Their Own Periodical.

Messing With Mother Nature

12 Monday Sep 2011

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Stupidity

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

crocodiles, death by crocodile, foolish choices, mother nature, natural selection, poor judgement, stupid people

By Smaktakula

Do We Really Need The Sign? Why Not Let Natural Selection Do Its Thing?

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