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~ A Collection of Oddities Calculated to Amuse, Enlighten and Horrify.

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Tag Archives: K-Fed

Into The Valley Of The Shadow Of Meth

19 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

backwater shithole, California, Fresno, K-Fed, Kevin Federline, Morro Bay, New Appalachia, North Dakota, Pennsylvania, places that suck, San Joaquin Valley, Scranton, unlivable places

By Tardsie

Tardsie’s a’travelin’!

Because Beauty And Livability Are Overrated.

It’s no secret that my jet-set life takes me to some pretty exciting places. Longtime readers will remember that last March I took the trip-of-a-lifetime to Valley City, North Dakota with my grandmother, and I’m sure I’ve told you at least once about that time I went to Scranton, Pennsylvania for a wedding.

It’s True. Life Takes Us To Some Pretty Exciting Places.

Today’s trip won’t pack on the mileage of either of those exotic journeys, but will very much be a journey to another world. As I write these words, tucked within the nurturing bosom of civilization and all its attendant luxuries like electricity, indoor plumbing and an atmosphere free of manure, I know that in just a few hours’ time I will be in a land that time (and just about everyone else) forgot.

I’m going to Fresno!

JEALOUS? Yeah, You’re Jealous.

Not unlike Adam and Eve, who were also driven eastward into a harsh and unforgiving land so different from the paradise to which they had become accustomed, once I cross the Santa Lucia and Temblor Ranges (really just hills if you live West of the Mississippi; mighty mountains if you don’t) I’ll be in the Appalachia of the West–the San Joaquin Valley.

“And Cain Went Out From The Presence Of The LORD, And Dwelt In The Land Of Nod, In The East Of Eden.”

Fun Facts About Fresno:

  • With over 500,000 people living in the city proper (and over 1,000,000 in the Fresno Metropolitan Area) Fresno is bigger than a lot of other shitholes which have their own professional sports teams: Cleveland, Tampa, Salt Lake City, Atlanta and Miami (while we agree that the claim sounds fantastic, it is nonetheless true).
  • With an average high of 97 degrees in August and a low of 38 degrees in January, there’s NO bad time to visit the Raisin City.
  • About the only place you’ll find more Armenians is Armenia, and you don’t want to go there.
  • Fresno is the birthplace of such high-profile stars as Kevin ‘K-Fed’ Federline.

We’ll Be Staking Out The Unemployment Office To See If We Can Get An Autograph.

Katching Up WIth K-Fed

15 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by Smaktakula in Celebrity, Culture, Entertainment, News

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

baby mama, backup dancer, California, do-nothings, famous for nothing, Fresnans, Fresno, K-Fed, Kevin Federline, losers, people from Fresno, places that suck, professional baby daddy, untalented stars, Where Are They Now?

By Smaktakula

As it turns out, not much is going on.

The Formerly-Famous Fresnan* Is Seen Loitering With An Unidentified Woman, Possibly A Baby Mama.

* Fresnan: noun 1) a person from Fresno, California; 2) rascal, lout or douchebag.  ∞T.

K-Fed, Serial Impregnator

08 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by Smaktakula in Celebrity, Culture, News, Stupidity

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

baby daddy, Britney Spears, career death by K-Fed, famous for nothing, haters gonna hate, K-Fed, Kevin Federline, professional baby daddy, Rebecca Black, serial impregnator, Shar Jackson, untalented stars, Victoria Prince, white trash

By Smaktakula
Kevin Federline Picture

"I Have This Many Childrens Now!" Good Try, Kev--You Got A Little Closer That Time.

Professional baby-daddy Kevin ‘K-Fed’ Federline has likely spawned his fifth child according to a source close to the expectant mother, former professional volleyball player Victoria Prince.  K-Fed’s brood currently includes two children with actress Shar Jackson and a pair with white trash survivor Britney Spears.

Say What You Will About The Man, But No Shortage Of Reasonably Attractive Women Are Willing To Sleep With Him.

Of the many roles K-Fed has played over the years (backup dancer, rap artist, career-killer) none appears to satisfy him as much as fatherhood, particularly since siring children is the only activity for which he has shown any measurable aptitude.  It’s a safe bet that K-Fed will continue to knock ladies up for years to come, so long as there remains at least one kind soul who will let him do it.

Who Will Be Next? "You Like Fridays? NO WAY!--I Like Fridays, Too!"

Bonus: K-Fed’s immortal ‘Popozão.’

That shit is fire, we assure you.
Po, Po, Po, Po, Popozão, Popozão!

A Foul, Yet Affordable Rolling Bedlam

11 Wednesday Aug 2010

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

air travel, airplane, Americans, Amtrak, bloated dying beast, bus crashes, bus travel, buses, California, chatty gay men, China, commuters, death by bus, decapitation, deranged seatmate, East Coast, embankments, English teachers, Fresno, Greyhound, Greyhound v. Embankment, Jordan Knight, K-Fed, Kevin Federline, Namibia, New Kids Forever! Still Hangin' Tough Baby!, NKOTB, only losers take the bus, Orient Express, PopoZau!, prison-on-wheels, rail travel, rolling bedlam, trains, two great tastes that taste great together, unfortunate ways to die, Utah, Victor Conte

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

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

03 Tuesday Aug 2010

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

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

avoiding responsibility, Bitch better have my money, bottom bitch, Branson, Brian Kaelin, Calcutta, cockroach, Dina Lohan, douchebaggery, famous for nothing, fare-dodgers, Fifteen Minutes of Fame, Frank Kapra, gaywads, gold digger, happy thoughts, India, It's A Wonderful Life, K-Fed, Kato Kaelin, Kevin Federline, LEAVE LINDSAY ALONE!!!, LiLo, Lindbergh Baby, Lindbergh Kidnapping, Lindsay Lohan, Lindsay Lohan's father, making excuses, massive gaywad, Michael Lohan, Michael Lohan is a turd with eyes, Missouri, parasite, Periplaneta lohanis, remora, shitty parents, social climber, Space Shuttle Challenger, suckerfish, taking responsibility, the coke favored by Clan Lohan is neither a coal by-product nor a cola, unctuous pimp, vampire

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.

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