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Tag Archives: gluttony

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.

Vulgar Non-Sport Allows Loveless Grotesqueries To Masquerade As Athletes

12 Monday Jul 2010

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, Entertainment, Sport, Stupidity

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Americans, Baseball, Basketball, botulism, competitive eating, conspicuous consumption, Edward Gibbons, ESPN2, fat ass, fat people, football, gluttony, hockey, hot dogs, Ichiro, Joey Chestnut, Magic: The Gathering, Major League Eating, Matholympics, Nathan's, Spelling Bee, starving children, Steve Irwin, Takeru Kobayashi, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, The Tsunami, United States of America, waddling grotesquery, what the fuck is wrong with you people?

By Smaktakula

Those who derive a grim joy in heralding the West’s cultural decline must surely take delight in the sudden and troubling popularity of competitive eating.  For many years a quaint–if bizarre–swatch of Americana primarily relegated to county fairs, competitive eating has recently risen to a degree that many Americans are confusing it with an actual sport, and its wretched, talentless participants with athletes.  Worse still, statistics indicate an increase among young people who believe, erroneously,  that the ability to effortlessly slide a six-inch piece of meat down one’s throat is a skill with applications outside prison walls.

Replacing Nathan's Franks With 'Botulism Dogs' Would Do Wonders For The Gene Pool.

In the halcyon days of yesteryear, Americans were a happier, healthier people.  They lived lives which modern Americans would consider catastrophically dull, lacking the Internet, cell phones, flat screen 3D Televisions and indoor plumbing to which 21st Century Man has become inseparable.  They had neither the plethora of food choices available now, nor the glut of processed, modified or otherwise bastardized food-based products which will be coming out of American microwaves this evening.

They were a simpler, tougher breed, qualities reflected in the sports they played.  People who lived where it was cold and who spoke with funny accents played hockey.  Arrogant blueblood cocksuckers were sure to play lacrosse, and soccer found a foothold in the exotic immigrant enclaves on the East Coast.  Fellows who liked to kick shit often opted for bull riding.  For everybody else there was baseball, football and basketball.

Now, several converging trends have made it possible for a new breed of sporting event to come shuffling to the fore, one that eschews the outdated emphasis on athleticism, sportsmanship and dignity, instead concentrating solely on spectacle.

Joey Chestnut's Name May Conjure Images Of Mobsters, But Everything Else About This Ass-Clown Screams 'Douche.'

One important factor in opening the door for these exciting new athletic events is the increasingly sedentary nature of Americans.   When waddling down the base paths becomes too difficult or a lay-up must be interrupted by a short break for breath, it may become difficult to identify with “true” athletes, who with nothing more than a little luck, God-given talent and years upon years of practice, have healthy bodies which the average American can never hope to enjoy.

The most insidious factor in the rise of non-sport is surely Cable TV.  Before the advent of ESPN2, who exactly was aware of “sports” like the Spelling Bee, Magic: The Gathering or the Matholympics?

As insipid as those activities are, they pale beside the most odious and vulgar of the non-sports: competitive eating, a vile glorification of excess, of food not for nourishment, but for spectacle.

If The Love-Child Of Steve Irwin And Ichiro Lived Its Entire Life In A Cave Subsisting On Nothing But Slim-Jims And Pork Rinds, It Might Look Something Like Kobayashi.

What must the rest of the world, much of it malnourished, think of America’s sleight-of-hand in rendering a crapulent circus into athletic achievement?  Americans might be better served not by asking why so many foreign nationals are crossing their borders, but rather, why those same foreign nationals haven’t killed them in their sleep?

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

Perhaps the most tangible impact of this societal lymphoma is Major League Eating.  While it may seem bizarre, or perhaps even horrifying to hear the words Major and League attached to Eating, representatives of MLE were quick to point out that, prior to MLE, there had been no sanctioning body regulating competitive eating, an absence which they claim could have profoundly affected not only the sport’s traditions, but also its dignity.

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