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Tag Archives: ugly Americans

My Friend Joey Park, Part III

23 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by Smaktakula in History, Philosophy, Stupidity, True-Ass Tales

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

all scientists are black belts, Asians, beloved friends, college, cowardice, douchebaggery, foreign kid, friendship, fun with foreigners, hillarifying, Joey Park, Ricky Ricardo, South Korea, ugly Americans, well-deserved beatings, why am I so loutish?

By Tardsie

In which I avoid the beating I so richly deserve.

 

And if you haven’t already checked out Part I and Part II, you should. I think I come off looking like a pretty cool guy.

hqdefault

The Image Seen Here Has No Relevance Whatsoever To This Post.

***

***

Joey Thumbs

Look, If He Hasn’t Killed Me Yet, He’s Probably Not Going To.

Dedicated with love to my brother “Joey Park.” I’m a richer man just for having known you, and obviously, I appreciate you not handing me my own ass that one time. We are forever Feds. ∞ T.

Joey Rocks

 

Ireland The PT Way!

12 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture, History, Politics

≈ 33 Comments

Tags

Belfast, Catholicism, Derry, dope, drunken Irishmen, Edna Kenny, Eire, grass, hemp, ignorance, inebriate, IRA, Ireland, Irish Potato Famine, Irish Republican Army, Lucky Charms, Micks, Northern Ireland, or did we get those colors reversed?, Portrush, pot, proddies, protestant, reefer, Republic of Ireland, Smaktakula's decades-old vendetta against the French, sweet sweet cheeba, Taoiseach, the French, the Troubles, They're magically delicious!, ugly Americans, Ulster, Unionists, weed, Why am I so drunk?

By The Promethean Times Editorial Staff

Ireland: A Nice Place To Visit, Even If You're Mostly Sober.

Before we get started, we should confess something: despite the cruel, ignorant and generally irresponsible things we say about people, places and things, it may surprise our readers to know that we hold in great affection many of those very subjects we skewer so mercilessly.¹ Chief among these beloved foils are the Irish. Although we will continue to mock these hapless, potato-munching inebriates until our dying day, the fact that Tardsie and Smaktakula have between them made a combined five trips to the Emerald Isle should to a large degree demonstrate Promethean Times‘ love for the Micks.

Edna Kenny (Seen Here At Breakfast) Was Recently Appointed Taoiseach (Prime Minister) For The Republic Of Ireland.

The Irish are a warm, gregarious people, who, despite the startling number of fistfights in which they regularly engage, are rightly known for their genial natures. Although theirs is a bittersweet history, full of famines, oppression and drunkenness, it’s difficult not to admire a people so foul-mouthed that old ladies use the Lord’s name more often in casual conversation than does Pat Robertson,  and whose priests are known to remark “If it’s yer head you’ll be wantin’ kicked in, ya wee shite, then go ahead and touch me fookin’ pint a second time.”

Straight Up: You Won't Be Getting His Lucky Charms Without One Hell Of A Fight.

The Irish are further unique in that, for whatever reason, they genuinely seem to be fond of Americans. Promethean Times wishes to encourage this special relationship by fostering an even greater understanding between Irish people and their more sober American cousins. With this in mind, we offer these American-specific travel tips for visiting Éire.

Don't Let It Worry You--Irishmen Are Sweethearts. In Another Five Minutes You'll Be Lifelong Pals. Just The Same, You Shouldn't Count On Him Never Again Punching You In The Face.

  • The Irish are proud of their culture. Show them you’re proud of it, too. If you even have one Irish ancestor, no matter how far removed, share this news with your new Mick friends by declaring, “I’m Irish, too!” They love that.
  • Break the ice by tackling a short person and demanding he lead you to his pot of gold, or at the very least, kick you down a bowl of sugary cereal for your trouble.

Look, It's Nothing Personal, Mr. O'Shaughnessy, It's Just That We Don't Think You're Temperance Society Material.

  • Black Irish doesn’t mean “black people.” Having said that, there are Irishmen of African descent. Smaktakula had the opportunity to meet them, and they were both really cool.
  • Although the Irish people insist on seeing their culture as wholly distinct and separate from that of the Scots, they don’t mind at all that you don’t. Go ahead and let them how much you enjoyed Braveheart.
  • The Irish love a laugh. It’s perfectly acceptable to point out that the word “Gaelic” sounds a lot like “Gay-Lick.”
  • The Irish will be delighted if you accost them on the street for the sole purpose of hearing them say, “They’re magically delicious.”  Famously patient, they’ll happily oblige you a second time when you demand, “No–do it right!”

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling...

Special tips for travelling in Northern Ireland:

  • Your choice of drink can say a lot, so choose one respectful of Irish culture. Although Irish car bombs are, along with straight whiskey, famously the national refreshment, when in Northern Ireland, the savvy drinker orders a Black & Tan.
  • Irish people can sometimes be melancholy, particularly in the north. If anyone mentions ‘the Troubles,’ tell ’em, “You think you’ve got troubles? I’m consumed by credit card debt and my lousy job is killing me! At least you get to sit around all day and drink!”

The Quaint Northern Town Of Portrush, Or As Tardsie Calls It, "POTrush." But That's A Story For Another Day.

  • In Northern Ireland, knowing your colors can be the difference between life and death: When you’re in Catholic areas, be sure to sport your Unionist orange, but just as quickly switch to green when you’re hanging with the proddies.
  • If you’re looking to place your money offshore by investing in foreign financial products, you could do a lot worse than to look into an Irish IRA. Irish professionals spend most of their office hours in local pubs, and financial advisors are no different. Try asking around at different pubs in Belfast or Derry for some information about the IRA (remember to pronounce it by the initials when you’re in N. Ireland, and not like a wimpy man’s name, as in America). It’s the damnedest thing–everyone you speak to will deny knowing anything about it, but if you ask around long enough, the right people WILL find you.

Folks, Whether You Realize It Or Not, The World Is Just One More Potato Famine Away From Being Up To Its Eyeballs In The Irish.

¹We weren’t talking to you, Frenchie, so sit your ass down. Nobody here called for a snail-eating surrender-monkey. < S.

The Candybomber: Weapons Of Mass Delight

01 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by Smaktakula in Culture

≈ 31 Comments

Tags

Allies, Axis, Berlin, Berlin Airlift, bravery, Candybomber, comical despots, David Hasselhoff, do-gooders, East Berlin, Gail Halvorsen, Germany, Japan, Josef Stalin, Mormons, ne'er-do-wells, Onkel Wackelflügel, Operation Little Vittles, ridiculous German words, ugly Americans, Uncle Wiggly-Wings, unfortunate names, United States of America, US Air Force, USSR, Utah, West Berlin, WWII

By Smaktakula

Conventional Wisdom Tells Us That It’s Wrong In Every Instance To Bomb Children. Conventional Wisdom Isn’t Always Correct.

Typically the characters to be found skulking through the pages of Promethean Times are a dark and sorry lot of maladjusted degenerates, ne’er-do-wells and comical third-world despots. And yet, history sometimes offers those examples of human endeavor which are not only significant and worthwhile, but also–rarest of all–interesting. We present to you, the Candybomber. If sweetheartery were an award (or even a real word), the Candybomber would be a perennial winner.

Get Yourself Some Jobs, You Master-Race Malingerers!

Although many younger readers many not be aware, Americans have not always been despised around the globe as arrogant behemoths trampling the rest of the world beneath their overpriced Nikes. There was a time, only a few short generations ago, when America was revered as a bastion of hope, and a force for good in a bleak and increasingly repressive world. As the occupying forces in Germany and Japan following their defeat at the end of WWII, a generation of earnest and well-meaning young men served to bolster this impression. The former enemies were disarmed by the Americans’ kindness, generosity and magnanimity, and in this the Allies achieved a victory far greater than anything they were able to accomplish with military means. That Japan and Germany are today stable, democratic–and for more than a half-century, peaceful–republics, is in some ways a credit to these exemplary young men.

Dude, You Know They’re Gonna Expect Us To Act Like This From Now On.

But Gail Halvorsen, the Candybomber, stands head and shoulders above them all. Despite the cruel handicap of being a dude with a chick’s name, in 1948 the young pilot exploded into the hearts and minds of young Germans, who, though now well into middle-age, still revere the Candybomber to this day.

The Candybomber Is A Lot Like David Hasselhoff In That The Germans Love Him. The Difference Is That The Candybomber Did Something To Earn Their Affection.

In 1948, Soviet Premier Josef Stalin sealed off West Berlin (as the nice part of Berlin was then known), hoping to starve out the fledgling democratic republic. The Allies, under the leadership of American President Harry S Truman, began an heroic, round-the-clock operation to ferry supplies to the beleaguered krauts. This operation, known as the Berlin Airlift, proved an historic success, forcing Stalin to ‘blink’ in May of 1949, lifting the embargo.

We’re Not Sure How To Write ‘IN YOUR FACE!’ In The Cyrillic Alphabet, So The Sentiment Will Have To Suffice.

Halvorsen, however, wanted to do more for the war-wearied children he saw lining the fences around the airbase. The nice Mormon boy from Utah hit upon an idea that was an instant winner: he attached small parachutes to bags of candy he had purchased himself, and his plane approached Berlin, would toss them from  his plane to the grateful children below. To differentiate his plane from the dozens arriving every hour, he would dip his wings before releasing his payload, earning him the typically ridiculous German nickname Onkel Wackelflügel (Uncle Wiggly-Wings).

You’ll Want To Step Back A Bit, Kids. That’s Not Candy.

Rumor has it that upon hearing of Halvorsen’s actions, his Air Force superiors ordered him to stop. However, someone up the food chain quickly comprehended the PR goldmine which had fallen into Allied hands thanks to Halvorsen’s do-gooderism. The Allies ran with it, and ‘Operation Little Vittles’ was born, magnifying Halvorsen’s individual act of kindness on a grand scale. It remains one of the most unheralded–and successful–American PR campaigns in history.

For Real, Folks–We’re Not All Bad.

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