Like a Phoenix, the Penske Files Rise From the Ashes

Yes people, it’s the end of an era. Some say SommadisSommadat was the most read work since the Bible. Who am I to judge?? Regardless of the eeeenormous (Trump style) success of my previous venture, I am still excited to kick off a new project with The Penske Files. The whole soft drink thing was so sophomoric, so senseless and inane. Before I can really get going though everyone knows there’s some unfinished business to be taken care of.

It was the middle of the summer. I was entertaining the masses with entry after succulent blog entry. Sure I toot my own french horn here and there but don’t you think it’s worth it since I write the best shit in the history of the internet? So I’m trying out the whole satire thing and here comes Jewballs Elias Schulkin spewing a grotesque piece the size of a darn novel in response to my entry that was supposed to be taken in good fun. And then he has the nerve to force me to post it on my very own blog by holding me at gunpoint. When I say Jewballs by the way, I don’t mean it in an insulting or offensive way. As Adolph Hitler once so elegantly put it, “We should round up all those Jews, put them in a concentration camp, and brutally murder them in large numbers.” That was a pretty harsh thing to say, Adolph 1. I will redeem myself, and I refuse to resort to Elias’s lowly mudslinging tactics.

Having said that, is Elias Schulkin illiterate? Yes he is. You’re wondering, he just wrote a twenty page critique of you how in the world could he be illiterate? Well, let’s take a look at that little number he wrote: “he has the rugged good looks of a Kurdish goat farmer”. Stop right there. The only human ever to use the words Kurdish and goat in the same sentence in an attempt to poke fun at me is one Glenn Schulkin, father of aforementioned Elias Schulkin. This is a clear sign of blatant plagiarism; Glenn wrote the diss for Elias. And frankly, to me it doesn’t come as a surprise because Elias happens to have a long history of having Glenn do his dirty chores for him. Glenn took Elias’s place in the 5th Grade Spelling Bee, took Elias’s road test to get him his driver’s license, spit game at young girls so Elias could swoop in and fornicate with them later, and most recently even signed off on a house so Elias could vacation for a week. It’s actually pretty safe to say that Elias doesn’t do anything for himself.

You’ve undoubtedly come to terms with Elias’s laziness at this point but may still have reservations about him being illiterate. Besides, Elias is an ardent reader of fantasy novels. Or is he? Elias is a self-professed expert on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the Harry Potter series, the True Blood series, and the Twilight series. Don’t you think it’s a little peculiar that everything that Elias claims to have read also happens to have a correlating movie? Of course, when you ask him what he thought of the movies, he’ll say, “Dude, the book was so much better”. The Schulkins come from a lineage of remarkable salesmen, but in this instance he comes short of selling me on his bullshit. That’s exactly what someone who is illiterate would want people to think he thought of the movies. Nice try, Jewballs.

I’m not going to bore my readers with paragraphs of fluff and little content. Here at The Penske Files we like to keep it short and sweet. Your shit has been sonned Elias Schulkin, and now I’m moving on because you’re no longer worth my precious time. After you have Glenn read this to you, please have him give me a call. I found a fresh supply of Kurdish goats in the Amazon River basin using GoogleEarth, and we can definitely make a killing on it because you know those Egyptians can always use a Kurdish goat or two.

1. Everyone loves a good old fashioned Jew joke involving furnaces and ovens. I give people one little history lesson, and everyone is up in arms all of a sudden. Shutuuuuuupp.

Bekir Yilmaz: All Star Blogger or Internet Terrorist?

Karl Marx once said, “Bekir is a total douchebag.” Is this quote accurate? Does Bekir have genital warts? I don’t know the answers to these philosophical quandaries. However, I do know that Bekir uses his elevated status as a critically acclaimed blogger to demean and defame those closest to him.
Let us take a look back at his blog of a few weeks ago, which viciously attacked the credentials of one Eric J. Csontos, and also included the perfunctory soft drink review that Bekir seems to have strayed from throughout the span of his brief yet surprisingly potent writing career. Mr. Csontos did not provoke Bekir (whom is now called the Turkish Terror by many of his victims), yet he was the target of a lengthy verbal assault, including a barrage of insults comparing him to his obviously overrated brother, Matthew. After devouring Eric’s lifeless corpse, Bekir realized he had bigger fish to fry. Namely, Elias H. Schulkin III, esquire and regional footwear manager for Modell’s Sporting Goods. After some of my associates referred me to Bekir’s hate filled blog, I followed the facebook link to the entry Bekir posted with the sole intent of destroying my reputation (probably impossible at this point). He used some immature words that will not be repeated to present to his readers an image of myself that many would probably echo.

Let us address Mr. Yilmaz’s prime accusation: “I think I’m better than everyone”. Interesting that Bekir would decide to travel this particular route. I believe our faithful readers deserve to know the full story of why Bekir feels this way, and how we arrived at this junction. To make a long story short, Bekir asked for my hand in lawful partnership, and I was emotionally unavailable. To say that I did not believe Bekir was a potential mate is not necessarily true; he has the rugged good looks of a Kurdish goat farmer mixed with the body of a young Rainn Wilson. However, I need some level of stimulating conversation in a relationship, a department in which Bekir is severely lacking. It is understandable that he would attack me the only way he knew how: by using his vicious words to cut me down to size. However, Bekir’s arrogance has lost him more than a friend; I believe he may have lost his soul. It is often said that when the weak minded come into power, they lose themselves in their quest for more. Bekir is no longer a mere blogger, he is undoubtedly the next great villain of our generation. I digress.

I would now like to discuss some of the other individuals whom have been wronged by Mr. Yilmaz in the past, with the hopes that he takes it upon himself to apologize to them, and then go back to fucking Honduras or whatever. Some people take a vacation to hit the beach, enjoy some relaxing time off, and fraternize with good friends and family. Bekir ruined the vacations of eleven of his closest friends by infesting their collective residence with 87 cans of disgusting tuna, which contained an odor that permeated the entire premises.

To make matters worse, he’s pretty weird. Just saying. I never know what he’s fucking talking about. A few months before apologetically subjecting his friends to potential mercury poisoning, Bekir disrespected the home of myself and Wade R. Veselka, in a brilliant scheme to frame a helpless dog. To the best of my knowledge, Bekir waited until all of our housemates had gone to sleep, then proceeded to lower his drawers and unleash a hellacious turd that had the consistency of guacamole with the potency of Zoltar’s asshole. He would have made the poopie princess herself extremely proud. However, he did not commit this act in the confines of a bathroom, as most reasonable Americans (I have reason to believe Bekir’s birth certificate was forged) would. No, Bekir shat upon our cabinet. This particular cabinet was a family heirloom, made of Sudanese oak with gold and diamond encrusted handles.

I think this little anecdote perfectly sums up Bekir’s attitude towards both his friends and finely aged wood: insubordination. He lacks the understanding that served Scottie Pippen so well throughout his years in Chicago: Bekir needs to understand he is not, and will never be, “The Man.” That title belongs to me. Check mate. Game over. Light the victory cigar. Get off of Wes. By the way Bekir, your blog now belongs to me. It will be called Elias the Examiner. This is not up for debate. I expect your computer and your gun on my desk in the morning.

Sincerely,
Elias H. Schulkin III Esquire, Regional Footwear Manager of Modell’s Sporting Goods

Orange Cream Soda

Last weekend I had the pleasure of testing out one of America’s most popular soft drinks – Stewart’s Orange Cream Soda. The first sips I must admit were actually quite mysterious and unexplainably, psychedelic. The next several hours consisted of me trying as hard as I ever have trying to pinpoint the sensation that I felt while drinking Orange Cream Soda. It wasn’t a rich flavor but couldn’t be exactly described as flat either. Then in one moment, it all became so amazingly clear to me.

Orange Cream Soda gives you the feeling that you are slightly better than everyone else, a feeling which is so perfectly captured in this shot of our friend – let’s call him the zookeeper. Arrogance, pompousness, and chauvinism mixed into a melting pot of superiority produces this phenomenon which we shall call the feeling that you are slightly better than everyone. That’s all folks!