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Tag Archives: Mohandas Gandhi

Tardsie’s True-Ass Tales: Urine The Clear

11 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by Smaktakula in Crime, Culture, Science, Stupidity, True-Ass Tales

≈ 32 Comments

Tags

dope, drug-testing, drugs, getting away with it, hemp, Mohandas Gandhi, pot, reefer, Rosa Parks, sweet sweet cheeba, victimless crimes, Washington State, weed, you suck so bad Lewis County so so bad

By Tardsie

They’re Pretty Much Infallible, You Know.

When you hear that somebody has passed a drug test, you probably assume the person is drug-free. It’s a reasonable assumption–the testing is scientific, impartial and totally reliable. I used to think so, anyway, until a time came when I had to take a drug test.

Technically, I didn’t really have to be tested, but my lawyer (and while it’s true that I’ve started in the middle here, I trust you’re more than capable of filling in the important elements of the backstory for yourself) thought it would be a real good idea for me to be tested to show the court that I was drug-free.

Dude, Do You Even Know Me?

I smiled patiently at him, like a father who’s just been asked a silly, but heartwarming question by his four-year-old child. “You know I’m gonna fail that test, right?”

His smile never wavered. “Call these people,” he said. He handed me a card for Pee-Testers International (the actual name of the company is being withheld in recognition of the great service they performed on my behalf).

My Memories Of That Testing Service Are As Warm As A Beaker Of My Own Urine.

Following his advice, I scheduled an appointment, and was somewhat buoyed that Pee-Tester International’s receptionist seemed to be on very friendly terms with my lawyer. Still, I was taking no chances, and procured some synthetic urine (yes, they really make that) to use in place of my own THC-infused urine. The specimen must be body temperature at the time of the testing, and since a buddy¹ of mine lived close to the testing center, I went there to heat my urine in his microwave and smoke bowls until the time of the appointment.

There were all kinds of wretched fuckers haunting the reception room when I got to PTI; I felt very out-of-place. It started to dawn on me then that PTI served two functions: primarily it was a legitimate (and accredited) testing service, monitoring the rehabilitation of parolees and drug offenders. But a smaller, unadvertised portion of its business seems to have been helping those who could afford it to beat drug tests for marijuana, which was illegal in Washington State until only a few months ago.

I Courageously Broke An Unjust Law That Was Eventually Changed. In This Way, I’m Very Much Like Gandhi Or Rosa Parks.

I had to wait a short while in the lobby, which made me nervous. The container of synthetic piss nestled in my crotch was still pleasantly warm, but was cooling with each passing second. I read a book while I waited. I did a good job of centering myself and holding my anxieties in check, but I was still relieved when they called my name. The practice, the preparation, the worrying–those things were in the past: we had gone live, and it felt very good to be getting on with it.

The counselor I spoke with was an attractive, empathetic woman who was maybe a couple of years older than I was. She was intelligent and well-spoken, but almost stubbornly predisposed–in spite of all evidence to the contrary–to see me as blameless. The only other person in my life to have made such a deliberate and herculean effort to so completely blind herself to my faults was my own mother.

No Matter What Kind Of Degenerate Shitbag You Are, Mom Still Thinks You’re A Gentleman.

“How often do you smoke marijuana?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I said, considering the question. “I don’t know–maybe six or seven times a year.”

“So not very often.”

“Hardly.” We both laughed.

“And when was the last time you used marijuana?”

“Oh, gosh,² let’s see…I think maybe last Christmas Eve.” This was mid-June. I’d anticipated this question, and had given it a great deal of thought in the previous days, as I had my response to it. It was a risky move, but I knew exactly the follow-up question it would generate. Most critically, I knew that my answer to that question would likely have a significant impact on the outcome of this evaluation.

Believe Me, Man–I Spent A Lot Of Time Doing Just That.

Her expression darkened, and took on a puzzled aspect. “But…you were cited for possessing marijuana just two weeks ago.”

I executed my line flawlessly. I laughed a little sheepishly and said of the incident earlier in the month, “Oh, I had every intention of smoking that pot,” I said,  “But I never got a chance!”

It was clear from the first that my gambit had been successful. Her face lit up and she laughed along with me. I saw that not only did she believe me (or had chosen to believe me, which amounts to the same thing), but that she appreciated my answer, like I was making her job a lot easier by telling her what I was supposed to.

Think Of Her How You Will, But She Was Very Kind To Me.

But her final question caught me off-guard: “If I gave you a urine test right now, would you pass?”

I hadn’t anticipated that, and it took some effort to keep myself from showing my cards in that age-old liar’s tell of repeating the question back to her: Would I pass a urine test? With so much on the line, though, I managed. I looked her in the eye and said, “Absolutely.”

Her conspiratorial smile was endearing. “I guess we don’t need to test you, then.”

It cost something like $450, plus another $20 for the fake pee I never used (and it’s really not something I wanted to keep around, y’know?), which was an expense I could ill-afford. Still, it was money well-spent, not least for the boost to my self-image which is with me to this day. When I look in the mirror every morning, I can be proud that the face I see looking back at me is 100% drug-free. Don’t believe me? I’ve got the test results to prove it.

I Consider Myself Not Just A Role-Model, But Also A Paragon Of Virtue And A Pillar Of The Community.

¹ The same guy, should you be interested to know, who some years before shouted “Where’s your dignity?” at hapless Rocky dorks.  ∞ T.
²Yes, for real I said “gosh.” In print it sounds silly, but I can make it work for me like you wouldn’t believe.  ∞ T.

Smaktakula Returns ‘For Love Of Promethean Times’

14 Tuesday Jun 2011

Posted by tardsie in Stupidity

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bitches, Chad, groupies, grovelling, ignorance, Mohandas Gandhi, outright lies, schadenfreude, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, stalkers, that trick never works, Why am I so stupid?

By Tardsie

If You Think About It, Except For Being A Little, Bald, Dead Indian Dude, Smaktakula Is A Lot Like Gandhi.

Smaktakula’s legion of slavishly devoted fans, groupies and stalkers will be delighted to know that Promethean Times’ head writer has reconsidered his decision to retire from journalism to pursue a life of boundless hedonism and degenerate self-gratification.  Regarding  the change of heart, Smaktakula says, “I felt I was needed here.”

As proof of  his intentions, Smaktakula announced that he has bequeathed his Chadian bonanza to several worthwhile charities: “Let’s see . . . the retarded kids, I think . . .and uh, I’m pretty sure Jerry’s Kids–there’s something wrong with them, right?–and–and kids with no heads.  Look, you said you’d stick to the questions we agreed upon.”  Moreover, Smaktakula has also donated the remaining funds in his checking account, including the $4,500 his Aunt Lois gave him after he finally completed a treatment program.

Smaktakula Was Forced To Sell Many Of His Objects d'Art To Settle A Few Outstanding Bills.

Knowing that his money is helping retards and kids with no heads has been a profound emotional experience for Smaktakula.  “When I think about it,” he says, “I break down and cry like a little baby.”  This author was treated to such a display after arriving ten minutes early for our interview; Smaktakula lay on the cold, stone floor of his apartment in his mother’s garage, fetal and twitching.  After he was covered with a blanket, the pitiable wretch became calmer, at which point it was a matter of waiting out his quiet, snuffling sobs.

Smaktakula is delighted to be back in the saddle, but hopes that no one was offended by the quotations he claims were misattributed to him by Promethean Times.  “I never called anyone ‘bitches,'” he argues.  “I said ‘witches,’ as in evil practitioners of the occult and concubines of Satan himself.”  He adds, “Which I am totally, completely and 100% against.”

For Having Been The Recipient Of Such A Gift, Smaktakula Is Surprisingly Ungenerous To Chad: "Those People Can Rot In Hell!"

The Nobel Prize For Acceptable Politics

12 Tuesday Oct 2010

Posted by Smaktakula in Celebrity, Culture, History, Politics, Stupidity

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Afghanistan, African National Congress, Al Gore, Al Gore is the political Art Garfunkel, Albeert Lutuli, ANC, Andrei Sakharov, Barack Obama, China, closeted homosexual, dissident, Henry Kissinger, hypocrisy, Jimmy Carter, Le Duc Tho, Liu Xiaobo, Mahatma, Martin Luther King Jr., Mikhail Gorbachev, Mohandas Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, Nobel Committee, Nobel laureates, Nobel Peace Prize, non-violence, Norway, pacifism, Peace Prize as political statement, resignation in protest, Ronald Reagan, Shimon Peres, undeserving winners, Yasser Arafat, Yitzhak Rabin

By Smaktakula

We're Not Altogether Sure That Ben Stein Deserves The Nobel Peace Prize. Ferris Bueller Just Doesn't Hold Up.

The Nobel Peace Prize was once one of the most prestigious honors an individual could receive, given out for actions which furthered the pursuit of peace.  Many previous laureates are deservedly beloved either for their work toward establishing peace, or for the peaceful means by which they achieved change under difficult circumstances: Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa, Andrei Sakharov, Jimmy Carter, and non-violent head of the African National Congress, Albert Lutuli.

We're Rough On Jimmy From Time To Time, But He Earned This One.

To some degree, the Nobel Prize has always been about expressing the Nobel Committee’s political view, as in 1973, when the Peace Prize was awarded jointly to Henry Kissinger and Le Duc Tho, the latter having the good grace to refuse the award.  Two members of the committee quit in protest over the selection.

Recently, the award has slipped further toward irrelevance as the politicization of the Peace Prize has increased.  Nelson Mandela, the cause celebre of the late 1980s, was awarded the prize in 1992 despite refusing to renounce violence on behalf of the ANC, an organization he wrested from the non-violent Lutuli.

" . . . For Which I Thank The Nobel Committee. Good Night. Okay, Send 30,000 Fresh Troops To Afghanistan."

In 1993 Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres shared the award with terrorist and closeted homosexual Yasser Arafat.  In 1990 Mikhail “Spot” Gorbachev was awarded the prize, but not his partner in peace, Ronald Reagan.  Following the cue of the American people, the Nobel Committee made Barrack Obama a laureate based on what he might do.  Obama took some time from planning the United States’ escalation of the War in Afghanistan to make a quick speech before the Committee.  Al Gore, America’s Official Second Banana, took home the prize in 2007 for jetting around the world to remind people to travel coach.

Fact: Excessive Amounts Of Self-Satisfaction Can Lead To Obesity.

Awarding the prize to Liu Xiaobo, a Chinese dissident further waters down the meaning of the prize.  Although Liu Xiaobo–and anyone who challenges the Beijing regime is undoubtedly brave–it’s difficult to see what achievements he’s made toward peace.  If anything, riling up an autocratic regime leads to anything but peace.

Arafat's Peace Bona Fides: While Many Of Arafat's Soldiers Died Violently, The Nobel Laureate Died Peacefully In A French Hospital.

Many recipients of the prize are certainly deserving of recognition for their superlative efforts in some field, but the Peace Prize seems cheapened somehow by giving it to people who aren’t really all that interested in peace.  What might work better is if the Nobel Committee first picked their laureate, and then created a one-time prize based on his or her accomplishments.

"So You Have Given This Award To A Killer Like Arafat, But For Ghandiji Nothing? If Your First Thought Upon Awakening This Morning Was To Piss Off The Mahatma, Then Let Me Tell You Something My Friend, 'Mission Accomplished.'"

To better demonstrate exciting innovation in award theory, we proudly present:

The Promethean Situational Peace Prize 2010 Inductees:

The Promethean Peace Prize For Cessation of Hostilities: Henry Kissinger, Le Duc Tho.

The Promethean Peace Prize For Promising to Stop Fighting: Yitzhak Rabin, Shimon Peres, Yasser Arafat.

The Promethean Peace Prize For Potential Future Peacemaking: Barack Obama.

The Promethean Peace Prize For Using Violence To Achieve Political Aims: Nelson Mandela.

The Skonk

23 Monday Aug 2010

Posted by Smaktakula in Cinema, Culture, General Foolishness, Health, Hollywood, People, Political Correctness, Reality Television, Relationships, Scandal, Television

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Abraham Lincoln, Adolf Hitler, Albert Einstein, Barack Obama, Big Bird, Bill Clinton, Bill O'Reilly, Bush 41, Bush 43, Colin Farrell, crabs, David Letterman, Eddie Murphy, Elmo, FDR, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Fred, George Herbert Walker Bush, George W. Bush, herpes, heterosexuality, homosexuality, J. Robert Oppenheimer, jackassery, James Bond, John F. Kennedy, John Lennon, Johnny Depp, Karl Marx, Keith Richards, man-skanks, man-whores, Mick Jagger, misconceptions regarding skanks, Mohandas Gandhi, Morrissey, Napoleon Bonaparte, Pat Sajak, Paul McCartney, People Magazine, Richard M. Nixon, Russell Crowe, Sherlock Holmes, skankery, skanks, Skanks in the Crosshairs, skonk, skonkery, skonks, Slick Willy, STDs, Stephen Morrissey, tabloids, Thomas Jefferson, W, whoredom, William Henry Harrison, William Jefferson Clinton, William McKinley, Woodrow Wilson, Woody Allen, you got a real purty mouth

By Smaktakula

In preparation for our upcoming multi-part investigative series on modern whoredom, Skanks In The Crosshairs, the Promethean Times Research Staff spent hundreds of man-hours reading tabloids, clipping articles from old issues of People Magazine we’d liberated from dentists’ offices, and lots of solitary time in the screening room.  The benefits of this research exceeded our initially modest expectations.  Immersion into the tawdry world of skandom produced a wealth of data, which when put in proper context revealed a number of generally held misconceptions regarding skanks as a whole.

Perhaps no subject in all of skandom is more misunderstood and veiled in half-truths than that of male skanks, or skonks.  Ironically, almost two-thirds of the respondents in a Promethean Times survey characterized themselves as “somewhat knowledgeable” to “very knowledgeable” about skonks.  A chasm exists between what is commonly known about skonks and what is believed to be known.  Perhaps it is in that gulf that the skonk will reveal himself.

Johnny Depp: His Skonk Oil Is Worth Millions.

Firstly, the popular notion that skanks outnumber skonks is a complete falsehood.  In fact, skonks outnumber skanks at a 2:1 ratio, even after accounting for the numerical differences between the male and female population.  It is perhaps because of this very ubiquity that the media tends to focus its attention on skanks rather than skonks.

This information also debunks the myth that skonks make up only a small percentage of all males.  The consensus among experts is that well over half of all men are skonks, with a majority positing of 70-85% skonk saturation.  One reason this figure is so inexact is that unlike skanks who tend advertise their skankiness, a sizeable portion of skonks endeavor to keep their skonkitude hidden.

Nor are gay men immune to skonkitude.  In fact, it is believed that the percentage of skonks among gay men is far higher than among the population as a whole.  One expert, who places the figure somewhere around 97%, says, “It’s pretty hard to find a gay man who isn’t a skonk.”

Angel Of The Morning: Skonk Life Is Not All Sunshine And Giggles.

Some famous skonks and non-skonks:

Historical

Napoleon was a skonk; Hitler was not.

Secret Skonk: Gandhi

Great Minds

Oppenheimer wasn’t a skonk, but Einstein was.

Secret Skonk: Karl Marx

Film & Television

Colin Farrell, David Letterman, Russell Crowe, Eddie Murphy, Bill O’Reilly, Woody Allen and myriad more are skonks.  Pat Sajak and one or two others too obscure to name are not.

Secret Skonk: None

Music

Mick Jagger is a skonk; John Lennon was not.

Keith Richards is a skonk; Paul McCartney pretends to be a skonk.

Secret Skonk: Morrissey

Presidents of the United States of America

Presidents Jefferson, FDR, Kennedy, Clinton and several others were First Skonks.  Presidents Lincoln, McKinley, Wilson, Nixon, Bush (41) were not.

Barack Obama is not a skonk; George Bush (43) was a skonk in his youth, but has since reformed.

Secret Skonk: William Henry Harrison

"Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta."

Fictional Characters

James Bond is a skonk; Sherlock Holmes is not.

Elmo is a skonk; Big Bird is not.

Secret Skonk: Fred From Scooby Doo

Friends of Promethean Times

Charlie Sheen and Michael Murphy are skonks; Grigori Perelman and Rolando “Cashew Dick” Negrin are not.

The Haimster was a skonk; diminutive and dearly missed virgin Gary Coleman was not.

Secret Skonk: Kim Jong-il

"Hate The Game. Don't Hate The Praya."

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