Man, you have no idea how many times I find myself saying or thinking that.
Have a great weekend, folks!
Man, you have no idea how many times I find myself saying or thinking that.
Have a great weekend, folks!
autism, Baby Hope, Barack Obama, batshit crazy, boobs, Chris Brown, conspiracy theories, crystal meth, don't hate us because we're ignorant, dope, drugs, Europe, ganja, global warming, God hates the left-handed, grass, headlines, hemp, Holocaust, Houston, JFK, Judaism, Latin America, left-handed people, legalize it, Love you Thorsie!, Martha Stewart, Michigan, MILFs, New York City, North Korea, obesity, places that suck, Poland, political assassination, pot, reefer, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, special needs, spying scandal, sweet sweet cheeba, Tom Brady, twerking, weed, Wisconsin
In which we celebrate ignorance by responding to the headlines of news articles we have not bothered to read.
What We Lost When J.F.K. Died ~ Our reluctance to embrace wacky conspiracy theories.
Rain Forest Plants Race to Outrun Global Warming ~ But being rooted to the ground, they’re pretty much fucked.
Man says dollar store tricked his family into leaving Houston ~ Sounds like the Dollar Store did you a favor, pardner.
Tom Brady feels terrific ~ Does he ever! C’mon, try rubbing his backside!
Obese 2-year-old is youngest to have bariatric surgery ~ Is bariatric surgery that thing where they beat a person’s parents with lead pipes? If so, we definitely think he should have that done.
Will Legal Pot Cost More Than Black-Market Pot? ~ It already does, fucknugget.
Explaining Twerking to Your Parents ~ Why on earth would you want to do something like that?
Big penis, small penis ~ Lucky man, locker-room laughingstock.
1939 Jewish Husband Too Sensitive About Hitler ~ But the really shitty thing is that his wife STILL won’t admit he was right!
Martha Stewart Admits To Having A Threesome ~ We don’t know whether to feel aroused or repulsed! Repulsed…now kinda aroused…repulsed again…and a little more arousal…
Real estate company ranks ’10 best cities in Michigan’ ~ 7 of them are in Wisconsin.
Is Obama to blame for North Korea? ~ Well, the way Obama tells it, it’s George Bush’s fault.
‘I Don’t Want My Children to Go to College’ ~ It’s like I tell my boys–“the world needs ditch-diggers.”
Two-fifths of elderly spend more than they earn, study finds ~ Sure, but at some point that becomes prudent. You can’t take it with you, right?
40-year-old mom found nude in teenage boy’s closet ~ Assuming that it’s somebody else’s mom, we say, “Way to go, kid!”
Ricky Williams says weed was like his Popeye spinach ~ Sometimes people laugh at what they don’t understand.
What’s Really Going On When Men Call Women ‘Crazy’ ~ A potentially serious mental illness is being addressed to the good of all parties involved.
UPDATE: Pedestrian hit by vehicle was not using crosswalk ~ Serves that law-breaking fucker right, then.
Mysterious Sea Creature In Spain Washes Ashore, Baffles Locals ~ Turns out it was a bar of soap.
What to Say to Parents of Kids With Special Needs ~ “Oh, man! I’m so glad I’m not you!”
Teen Accused of Stabbing Teacher to Death ‘Kept to Himself’ ~ Except for that one time when he stabbed the teacher to death.
Help! My Daughter Got Pregnant at a Friend’s Party and the Owners of the House Won’t Chip In ~ That makes as much sense as me suing the makers of the Dodge Dart for my children.
Why Are Some People Left-Handed? ~ Because God is cruel.
Obama to lay out agenda for economic recovery ~ You mean now? It’s not still 2009 is it?
What Happens When a Language Has No Numbers? ~ You call it ‘Polish.’
Sorry Europe, We’re Still Spying ~ And by ‘sorry,’ we mean ‘Fuck You.’
Chris Brown: I lost my virginity when I was 8 years old ~ That’s a funny way of saying ‘I was sexually assaulted when I was 8 years old.’
NYC police reportedly identify mother of 1991 murder victim ‘Baby Hope’ ~ They called her ‘Baby Hope’ because ‘Baby Irony’ was just too obvious.
Growing Number Of Latin Americans Turning to Judaism ~ Headline for 2025: Latin America Becomes World’s Most Prosperous Region.
Free mammogram clinic set for Oct. 19 in SLO ~ It’s in my garage! Why not have a couple of drinks before swinging by?
2012 Presidential Campaign, 2012 World Series, Ashton Kutcher, Barack Obama, Bill Clinton, childish sexual innuendo, comic books, death by hurricane, death by shark, Detroit, Detroit Tigers, dolphins, fat people, FDR, Geneva, great white shark, headlines, hurricanes, ignorance--it's what we do, Jersey Shore, Joe Biden, left-handed people, Louisiana, Meat Loaf, Mississippi, Mitt Romney, New Jersey, North Korea, polio, retarded, San Francisco Giants, Sandy, slut-shaming, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, Switzerland, teachers, unfortunate ways to die, white people, Why am I so fat?, Why am I so stupid?, you are not the father
Deaf dolphin rescued in La. will get new home in Miss. ~ It appears to be the result of a misdiagnosis. Veterinarians originally classified the hearing-impaired cetacean as “retarded,” and Mississippi just seemed the obvious choice.
Waiting till the wedding night – getting married the right way ~ Absolutely. ‘Cause every young man dreams of someday spending his wedding night asking “What does this button do?”
Tigers’ pain: Omar Infante’s wrist broken; so is Alex Avila’s heart ~ Hopefully they’ll be distracted bu the knowledge that in meekly allowing the San Francisco Giants to figuratively bugger them in the course of sweeping the 2012 World Series they have not only brought further shame to an already ignominious and blighted city, but wounded the venerable heart of baseball itself.
Do Pigs Intentionally Kill People? ~ The Revolution’s gonna change all that, Brothas!
Meat Loaf endorses Romney in Ohio ~ Meanwhile, the Obama campaign was buoyed by an endorsement from Casserole. Spinach Salad is expected to back the Green Party candidate again this year.
Are Sexy Halloween Costumes Over? ~ They are for you, Grandma. Grow some dignity.
Ashton Kutcher: TV’s highest-paid actor ~ Friends, it’s not for nothing that they call it the ‘idiot box.’
Analysis: Why Both Romney and Obama Campaigns Say They’re Winning ~ Because they’re politicians and they’re accustomed to spouting deliberate falsehoods since they know that about 50% of the electorate will make the conscious decision to buy into the line despite a staggering collection of evidence to the contrary. They don’t really even have to try any more.
Sex researcher’s son charged with exposing self ~“Um…it was for research?”
Eschewing the narrative conventions of the graphic novel ~ Let’s seek some perspective here–you’re talking about comic books. If you absolutely must fancify ’em, we favor the term ‘illiterature.’
Obama’s Prep Session Goal: Don’t Repeat Mistakes of Last Debate ~ “Don’t…Repeat… Same Mistakes…From…Last Time–got it. Hey, that’s pretty smart! I hope we’re paying you a lot of money.”
The Trouble with My Daughter’s DNA ~ “Well, the trouble isn’t so much with your daughter’s DNA, sir; no, her DNA is fine. It’s just that…well, that the…Christ, Mr. Johnson–this is really a conversation you ought to be having with your wife right now.”
Geneva devastated by monster tsunami, millions at risk ~ You know that’s in Switzerland, right?
What Do Birds Do During a Hurricane? ~ Disintegrate in a spectacular burst of blood, bone and feathers. It’s quite beautiful in its way.
Surfer killed in shark attack died ‘doing something he loved’ ~ It’s true. Mikey often said that his favorite thing in the world was to scream at the top of his lungs while gargling a mouthful of bloody seawater.
Obama’s Best-Kept Secrets ~ Well, not many people seem to know that he smokes Marlboro Reds.¹
Ask Larry: What Do I Do if My Ex Never Paid My Social Security Tax? ~You’re gonna need to get real pretty, real fast or else learn to like the taste of dog food. And while it’s on our mind, who the hell asks a dude named ‘Larry’ about anything other than where’s the best place to buy illegal fireworks?
Dallas Braden says what everybody thinks about left-handed pitchers ~ They’re all secretly gay. You didn’t know that?
Does It Pay to Become a Teacher? ~ If by ‘pay’ you mean money–then no.
6-year-old ‘Mrs. Bieber’ loses cancer battle ~ Sadly, she succumbed before she was able to testify, leaving Justin Bieber free to marry a whole kindergarten if he wants to.
Columbian ‘Devil’ baby may actually be victim of abuse, say police. ~ “Or…hold on, now… or what if that’s JUST the kind of story a Colombian Devil Baby would tell to send us all off on a wild goose chase? Gentlemen, I’m beginning to think we’re up against a master tactician.”
North Korean army minister ‘executed with mortar round’ ~ That’s fucking crazy! They’ve still got it, folks.
Video games can fight obesity? ~ Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, fatty.
Could Obama Become the Next FDR? ~ Listen, you can disagree with the man all you want, but you cross a line when you publicly wish crippling polio on the President of the United States. Not cool, dude.
In Sandy’s wake, can Jersey Shore be saved? ~ CAN it be saved? As in, ‘Is saving the Jersey Shore something we have the ability to do?’ That’s not the question we should be asking ourselves right now, and we think you know it. Go ahead–just say what we’re all thinking.
Help! My Sister Is Being Slut-Shamed by Her Fiancé’s Family. ~ Well, if you wanted to help out a little bit on your end, maybe you could think of a term for it with not so much “slut” and just a tad less “shame.” Hussyrassment? HOranguing? Tramp-Dampening? Whatever you call it, you’re a shitty sister.
‘What’s the Matter With White People?’ ~ Well, they dance like assholes for one thing.
VP debates can kill political careers ~ Just being VP can do that.
Activist floats idea of memorial for fish killed in Irvine crash ~ See folks? Homosexuality is not a prerequisite for being a massive gaywad.
7 Lame Things That Turned Awesome When I Became a Parent ~ 7,000,000 awesome people who turned lame when they became parents.
Biden, President Clinton double team on Romney ~ This will likely build some much-needed bridges between Republicans and Democrats. You just can’t look at a guy the same way after you’ve felt his stubbly chin nestled between your shoulder-blades.
Anaheim Angels, Baseball, childish sexual innuendo, confused identity, Los Angeles Dodgers, Mike Scioscia is an apostate!, poseurs, Rally Monkey, San Diego Padres, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, Southern California
1) Superfluous. The LA-OC Metro Area is also the home the more historic and culturally significant Los Angeles Dodgers (of Los Angeles), and the Southern California area already includes the Padres, San Diego’s semi-pro ball club.
2) Dishonest. Claim Los Angeles as home base, but play in Anaheim, over 30 miles away. Moreover, the team has claimed no fewer than four home locations in its half-century of iniquity: Los Angeles (legitimately), California, Anaheim and now the ridiculous LA-Anaheim hybrid. What are they hiding? What don’t they want you to know?
3) Homophobic. Although no evidence whatsoever exists to support this rather irresponsible claim, it should be noted that “angels” are frequently associated with Christianity, which itself is practically synonymous with homophobia.
4) Cruel. Many years ago, Mike Scioscia did us wrong.¹
5) The Rally Monkey. The fucking Rally Monkey.
Anywhere you travel across this great land, you’re very nearly guaranteed to see obese people. Whether they’re wolfing down a score of Whoppers at Burger King or zipping through the mall on their scooters, with cell phones to their ears and an extra-large bucket of soda in the drink tray, their gelatinous buttocks spilling over the seat–blubbery humanoids are becoming an everyday facet of American life.
In our society, obesity is ubiquitous and inescapable: in the supermarket and at public events, at the mall or even the gym. However, there is one arena where America’s blubbery class is all but invisible: television. Corpulent faces are rare on television, and this is even truer in regard to commercials.
Some activists want to change this paradigm, and show America a swollen, spotty face like the one it sees in the mirror every morning. Monty Robinson of Let America Respect Diversity (LARD), an advocacy group for people of size, believes the best avenue for this accurate depiction is diabetes commercials.
Currently, most diabetes commercials look like this:
Does the man in this clip look like anyone you know who has diabetes? No, the man is an actor, who doesn’t have diabetes. His middle-age paunch is his only nod toward obesity; he is only pretending to have this largely-preventable, first-world malady.
Obesity activists point out that African-American characters are portrayed by African-American actors, and that Asian actors portray Asian characters. Why then aren’t diabetes sufferers portrayed by gelatinous fatsos? “It’s not fair,” says corpulent actor Randy Bumfield, “How is anyone supposed to believe that I just had my gangrenous leg amputated if I’m handsome, slim and trim?”
The reality is that the producers of these commercials will never see fit to accurately represent their target audience. Diabetes spots will continue to feature paunchy-but-healthy middle-aged actors, who think nothing of trampling underfoot the surprisingly-sensitive emotions of the doughy monstrosities they purport to represent. This doesn’t, however, mean that Americans of size need go entirely without recognition–not if the average citizen does his or her part.
So the next time you’re in McDonalds for a late-night McFlurry run, and you’re greeted by the barnyard sound of rank humanity inhaling its feed, don’t wrinkle your nose in disgust or take a photo to show your friends on Facebook. Instead, make a conscious choice for change, and approach one of these ‘people.’ Imagine how good he (or she) will feel when you tell him, ‘That should be you in the diabetes commercial!’
First of all, I am in no way responsible for Frogboy’s undignified, if appropriate, sobriquet. That honor goes to Daria, one of my fellow layabouts at my college’s writing center, who had only minutes before been propositioned by the wretched little creature whom we later learned was named Evan Spieglemann. He was polite, she told me, and said that Frogboy had offered her a shy smile when he asked if she wanted to go with him to the movies, suggesting that they walk to the theater in town, as he had no car. It might have been a touching, if ultimately futile, scene if not for an unfortunate occurrence. “When he smiled,” she said, “his gums began to bleed spontaneously.”
Why Frogboy? It’s hard to say just why some names fit almost magically. It’s not that the pitiable little creature known as Evan only to his parents actually looked like an amphibian; he didn’t. But he looked like a Frogboy. Frogboy was short, and thin almost to the point of emaciation. His dark, oily hair stood in stark relief to his pale skin, still marked by splotches of fading acne and the blue-black tinge of a perpetual 5 o’clock shadow. He wore chunky black glasses with lenses as thick as a baby’s finger, magnifying his heavy-lidded and mud-colored eyes, lending a slightly contemptuous effect. And of course, the pièce de résistance was his million-dollar smile: each of his long, yellow teeth seemed wholly remote from the tooth next to it, brought into relief by the darkness to either side of it. And the bleeding.
The first time I had the privilege to see Frogboy up close and personal was in the men’s restroom. I was standing at a urinal, the only occupant of this low-traffic bathroom beneath the college cafeteria, and looked up when the door opened. At first, I didn’t know what to make of the comically-horrifying creature in the doorway. Frogboy, in addition to being possessed of the unfortunate physical traits described in the previous paragraph, wore garishly patterned weight-lifter pants with flourescent green highlights, and a plain blue muscle shirt that highlighted his pale, pimple-studded shoulders and girly broomstick arms.
Despite the two other perfectly good urinals from which he could have chosen, Frogboy chose the urinal next to mine (a brief digression: ladies, as you like to gab in the can, you may not be aware that except for those fellows interested in a bit of the rough trade,¹ choosing a urinal next to one which is occupied when an unoccupied alternate exists is simply not done). He pulled his shirt up and tucked it beneath his chin, which was pressed into his chest. As he began to go about his business, all the while accompanying it with a litany of grunts (in retrospect it seems so obvious that the boy had Tourette’s, but at that time, I thought the condition just made you cuss-crazy), I got out of there in a hurry.
There is the assumption that anyone so freaky and physically deficient must therefore be brilliant. Although Frogboy had the requisite arrogance and look of house-bound scholarship, his intellect was disappointingly pedestrian. But, like the rest of us, maybe he was fooled by his own appearance. We were in dummy physics together, and I can still recall how exasperated the professor would become with Frogboy’s inane, nonsensical questions and bizarre theories about the nature of science.
That would have been the limit of my interaction with Frogboy if it hadn’t been for a night of drinking. I woke up on a Saturday morning after spending the evening with a bottle of Rebel Yell and assorted attitude adjustments, gripped by a wicked bellyache and a vague but persistent feeling of wrongdoing. It didn’t take me long to find out why that was.
“Dude, you were kind of an asshole to Frogboy last night,” one friend told me. Before an hour had passed, at least four people stopped by my room or called to let me know they’d been witness to my ugly behavior. I never got the full story–never wanted it–but the crux of the tale is that I spent part of the evening being an ass to Frogboy, pushing him around and even, I’m told, boxing his ears.
Despite all appearances to the contrary, I was not an intentionally hurtful young man, but more like a reckless puppy, living as I did in my collegiate world of low-impact consequences. Given that I stood almost a foot taller than Frogboy and outweighed him by about 100 pounds and moreover that I was possessed of a conscience, I was overcome by shame at what I had done. In the long-term, this incident would have a profound impact on my behavior–I grew much more respectful of alcohol and more cognizant of my behavior when under the influence.
But the incident also had a profound effect on my final year in college. Not long after being apprised of the extent of my buffoonery, I found Frogboy sitting alone in the cafeteria. “I’m sorry, Evan,” I told him honestly, adding that I was deeply ashamed and that I hoped he would forgive me, although I didn’t deserve it.
To my surprise and relief, he forgave me immediately. However, I should have remembered that nothing comes for free, and that if I was truly to learn a lesson, there would have to be attendant consequences. For me, those consequences took the form of a friendship. Frogboy and I were now pals, and for the rest of my senior year I was friends with a guy who didn’t know how to be friends.
After I graduated, I never saw Frogboy again. But a few years later, one of my friends was working in a deli in San Francisco when who should walk in but Frogboy. He recognized my friend and addressed him by the wrong name. He remembered me, though, and asked after me.
audiobooks, dangerous people, dope, grass, hemp, literature, outright lies, pot, reefer, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, sweet sweet cheeba, true facts, weed, Why am I unable to read?
Rapid advances in technology and the world’s ever-burgeoning “Stupid Factor” are both contributing to the incipient extinction of the book in its traditional form. That portion of the public which still wastes its time reading now has a broad spectrum of media from which to choose, including traditional books, e-books and, frighteningly, audiobooks.
Reading is a personal, and often private activity. Yet increasingly, the public is abrogating its own reading responsibility, leaving the heavy lifting to an anonymous reader. Most people would feel uncomfortable letting a complete stranger blow their nose or unzip their fly, but have not even a second thought about inviting some stranger into their most personal space–their heads.
Given the recent increase in the popularity of audiobooks, it is somewhat surprising that there is so little concern among the public regarding who–or what–is whispering in its collective ear. It’s no great stretch of the imagination to suppose that the mellifluous voice coming through your headphones belongs to a pot-addled, potty-mouthed degenerate with at least one arrest for arson. It could be someone even worse.
Lastly, there’s the well-documented fact that listening to audiobooks causes bladder cancer.
Republicans are giddy with the rumors that famed intergalactic crimelord Jabba the Hutt is mulling a bid for their party’s nomination. Although the gelatinous gangster denies the rumors, supporters say that Jabba’s no-nonsense approach to fiscal policy, proven opposition to smugglers and fanatical hatred of unions puts him in good stead with the conservative elite. Moreover, Jabba’s backers contend that although he is a grotesquely bloated slug with comically vestigial limbs, he’s still both more appealing and electable than Donald Trump.
Calvin & Hobbes, douchebaggery, I piss on you!, immaturity, Pissing Calvin, public urination, San Francisco Giants, Smaktakula's hatred of the San Francisco Giants, Smaktakula's hypocrisy can sometimes be astounding, stupid kids, to my alma mater I apologize, urine
If you ever find yourself uttering the words, “Oh come on now–who HASN’T pissed all over the receiver of a public phone once or twice in his life?“– we can say with a high degree of certainty that you’re a douche.
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?
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.
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.”