Miami, Fl.–Elf Wax staff columnist and celebrated Communist Kirill Milosevic was fatally gunned down in a battle with police outside a Miami jail on Friday. Having no middle name after it was stolen in Leningrad, Milosevic was said by reporters to have been protesting America’s increasingly anti-nuclear warfare stance.
“More nukes would kill more people,” Milosevic once quipped during a White House press conference, “and not one American would have to die.” Indeed, Milosevic’s views on nuclear disarmament were controversial, but influenced, no doubt, by the automatic-tactical-nightmare-scenario conditioning of Civilization II – Multiplayer Gold Edition. “Fuck the Republic,” Milosevic once screamed during a game, crashing his heavy, alcoholic fists into the keyboard. “THERE WILL BE – REVOLUTION!”
“He will be remembered far and wide. His face, eternally scorched into the backs of our eyes. His memory, effervescent like the taste of raw iodine under nuclear winter. His words, permanent.”
– Fearless President and World Emporer Barack Hussein Obama
Milosevic agreed that we have too many nuclear weapons and he once believed that the solution to the problem of nuclear backstock was to fire “any number” of warheads indiscriminately toward any nation, even non-threatening government bodies, “like Switzerland, to set an example of respect among despicable, isolationist cowards.”
“He was right,” said Robert Hussein Obama, the blackest man to ever be elected as President of the United States of America. “If I had nuked Iran during my first day in office, we wouldn’t be dealing with their concealed nuclear reactor today. Milosevic, like Brokaw, was a good man who lived for the truth and died for less, and he will be missed long after the wake of his death settles on the entire journalistic community. He will be remembered far and wide. His face, eternally scorched into the backs of our eyes. His memory effervescent, like the taste of raw iodine under nuclear winter. His words, permanent.”
“Enough radiation,” said Elf Wax resident Doctor Langstrom T. Armstrong, “would send the message loud and clear that they don’t want Nukes.” Armstrong added later that saturating the human body in radiation and forcing upon it a death sentence “gets results.”
Which is why many experts allow that Milosevic’s opinions on nuclear weapons were not so far off-base, some going so far as to say nuclear weapons make people feel more secure, and give them self esteem and even the courage to forgo suicide temporarily, especially when consumers take into consideration that a booming nuclear warhead industry means freshly-available after school jobs for the industrious teen who wishes to help Mom and Dad out with the bills.
Milosevic knew, before any US President, that nuclear warheads, unlike stimulus bills, stimulate the economy, endowing it with a throbbing, radioactive erection relieved only by explosions, above-ground detonations, or long-range ejaculatory trajectories into the tits of Siberia.
“Not to mention,” added Langstrom, “Increased exposure to radiation leads to rapid terminal illnesses, producing high turnover rates at the job place.” Truly, it is the “perfect job” for the 16-18 crowd just looking for some quick spending money for a date at the movies or a Saturday night chemo bath.
But no matter how hotly debated Kirill Milosevic’s values became, there was no arguing with the fourteen pellets of 12-gauge spray to the face Friday night, to which Milosevic had no retort, and so he died clinging, with dedication, to the Stalinist values of Western Society. “Such paradoxes were issues Milosevic loved to muse upon,” said his wife, sister, and mother of their three devolving inbred spawn.
In one article, he dissected the Socialist agenda of Hussein Boma and contributed to a popular Elf Wax article written on the campaign trail titled “Socialism, and why I’m forcing it on you.” It was never published, due to fair, legitimate First Amendment restrictions imposed by the Police Sector of Lebal Drocer, Incorporated. Once again, truth was upheld.
Milosevic’s age was largely unknown for all his life because he was born in a field, under a new moon and then instantly separated from his mother by trusted Lebal Drocer affiliates out of fears that he may adopt her womanly traits, and fail to report the news objectively. He was subsequently raised by gun-toting military officials and MPs, and forced to sit in on political executions for entertainment.
Milosevic reigns supreme! Putin forever! Down with the tyrant! Barrac “Hussein” Obomma!
Rest in peace, comrade. Because the truth never will.
WASHINGTON, DC, UTAH–The Elf Wax Times announced today its 1,000th reader in just one week. Executive Editor, Steve Grabowski, said The Elf Wax Times has been spammed with Google Image results almost exclusively under the keywords ‘Miley Cyrus sexting.’ An army of 4chan porn addicts, unable to get off to anything that isn’t a sext message, have been in search of “moar” Miley Cyrus “n00dz” and have found Miley’s infamous sexting image located within our scathing commentary on sexting among America’s youth.
“The Elf Wax Times spiked 500 hits last night alone due to a mix-up around nude photographs Miley sexted out to Nick Jonas,” Grabowski said.
Nick Jonas is reported to sport a so-called “purity cockring” in an image he sexted in response to Miley’s now infamous, but typical, “tease” sext. According to an employee at Verizon’s sext message monitoring headquarters, the rumors are true, but Miley Cyrus sends out these kinds of texts all the time to her family members. “Especially the father.”
“Glory holes in Roanoke, VA” is also turning up “mad results” according to a recent Google Analytics poll, and more users find themselves reading the Times than ever before, when they meant to find elven pornography or how-to guides for waxing a pussy. “People and their cats,” commented Grabowski, with a shake of the head.
It’s a well-known fact that if God intended for cats to be naked and pink, he would have birthed them that way, or burned a few with solar flares. But God works in mysterious ways, sometimes neglecting facts altogether, as one Elf Wax Times reader found out the hard way.
“I was searching for Jesus,” he said with a pause, and trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
But even inadvertent Elf Wax Timers are converting to full-time readers, according to some contrived interpretation of a combination of anecdotal results. For instance, one reader who searched “whore lithium weed” happened to dig 11 pages deep into the Times. Looks like somebody found what they came for!
The entire Elf Wax staff could not be reached immediately, and the office voicemail redirected to a vacation response from Easter which connected reporters to a full mailbox in which no message could be left or returned.
Elf Wax staff writer Cold Hard Truth was not immediately available for comment, but wrote an email to the editor saying, “I once had a job installing cable for the cable company. One time I had to go in ‘their kid’s room.’ There was this big nine-foot retard standing behind me in the corner, the whole time, breathing real hard and real loud – and just staring at me, watching my every move. Just staring, and breathing, stopping only once to piss himself and scream. I imagine having a big nine-foot-retard with jaundice could come in handy at times. But not when you need cable installed. That freaked me out. Do you think hermaphrodites, like true hermaphrodites, could get themselves pregnant? And like, clone themselves?”
His email response went on like this for another two pages attached to a .avi file of Japanese piss bukkake, and was completely irrelevant to the questions reporters asked.
All attempts to reach Wayne were futile, as a Spanish-speaking woman answered his publicly-listed phone number demanding cocaine in exchange for a beheading she’d performed just moments earlier. An ape was heard howling in the background, believed by sources to be owned by Wayne himself, or traded on the black market, again, for drugs or possibly even “sexual favors” according to the woman when asked about the noise. “He do lots of thing.”
Steve Grabowski said the Elf Wax Times is growing at up to 100 percent on good days, and as low as “90 percent on a slow day.”
“Mostly,” he added, “People just plain don’t know how to search for porn, and they wind up here. But we gladly welcome you. Sick, twisted fucking perverts are the backbone of The Elf Wax Times.”
And so are you. Thanks, dear readers. Keep refreshing the Elf Wax Times for the latest news on things that happened a few days ago. Also, be the first to get to Elf Wax Times by Googling ‘marijuana’ and win a free trip to an F.B.I. holding facility!
The Elf Wax Times has no relation to the ELF, an eco-terror group which has claimed responsibility for several recent terror attacks. We hate the environment.
LAKE PARK, IL.–Area citizens were baffled this week when a local power line was spotted wearing a pair of shoes. The shoes appeared to be slightly worn, Nike® Air Jordan’s, and were first spotted Sunday morning.
“Must’ve been one of them damn squirrels,” spouted Walter Bernard, a retired Chicago Heights steel worker and chess enthusiast. “Only possible explanation.”
Lake Park Police have not yet issued any statements regarding the shoe incident. Though the neighborhood is said to be relatively “quiet”, reports have said that new neighbors have recently moved in whom are rarely seen during daytime hours and have brief visitors that “leave the house within five minutes.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” stated local elementary school art teacher, Kathy McMillan. “In this Obama era, even the bulk transfer of alternating current has the right to be fashionable. Welcome to the Nineties.”
Witnesses have also stated that the power line seems to be a size 11 wide.
Washington, D.C., Tx–An independent study by the US Government was conducted on a stovetop Friday, twenty years ago. The results are inconclusive by logic of the critically-flawed scientific method, but based on what the President’s top aides are saying, stand firm. The dependent variables of the study were not verified and its results are taken as fact based on the government’s good track record of providing honest, objective, Christian scientific research.
“All drugs are the same,” said one expert. “Dope’ll kill ya,” said another. The men wished to remain anonymous because like all government officials, they are huge pussies and don’t stand behind their own words.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING VIDEO IS INTENDED FOR MATURE, MALE AUDIENCES ONLY. IF YOUR CHILDREN SEE THIS AND START FRYING UP EGGS TO GET HIGH, IT IS YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU ARE A BAD PARENT UNWORTHY OF OWNING CHILDREN.
Pictured here from left to right, three band members (presumably), Fred Durst, and David Blaine.
CLEVELAND, OH–In it’s annual induction ceremony earlier this week, the Rock and Roll Hall of Shame was pleased to welcome nu-metal pioneers, Limp Bizkit, into it’s newly founded museum. The band, which formed in 1994 in Jacksonville, FL, rose to moderate success riding the coattails of bands such as Korn and mixing the perfect blend of heavily distorted, simple guitar riffs and aggressive, juvenile rap lyrics, which subjects included everything from failed sexual encounters to breaking human facial structures.
“I think it’s pretty [depletive exleted] obvious that this was our goal from day one when we started jamming on some George Michael tunes” said Fred Durst, frontman/only actual band member. “By the time Chocolate Starfish [and the Hot Dog Flavored Water] dropped, even I was surprised people were still throwing away their scrilla on us.” Added Durst, “Damn right, I’m a maniac!”
While the other members of the band were unable to attend/didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything Limp Bizkit-related anymore, Durst gladly accepted the honor on their behalves and even pleased the crowd with a solo performance. An excerpt can be seen here:
Other inductees this year included Third Eye Blind, The Spin Doctors, and Chumbawamba. Kid Rock, a notable genre-spanning awful “musician”, was not inducted to the museum of rock musical failures this year, but instead attended his induction into the Country Music Hall of Shame in Nashville.
So we didn’t reach out to anybody, exactly. But it did keep me from moving in with a lesbian. You see, I was going to move in with my girlfriend. She’s not the lesbian. Just keep reading you lazy fuck, you’ll get the story. We don’t dumb it down, you’ll have to cope, sound it out, we’ll get through this together. Anyway, things “didn’t work out” so I had to put an advert out on the most hilarious website in the Universe, craigslist. Man, I don’t even know where to begin about that website. God it’s greater than The Beatles. Anyway, I found this lesbian who was looking for a place to live. Real naive girl who didn’t have her shit together but knew she wanted to move out of mommy’s house. So, being desperate to move into this sweet, overpriced ghetto apartment as soon as possible, I told her we’d sign the lease together the following day if she liked the apartment. She did like it, and we agreed that it would be pretty cool.
In my craigslist ad, I indicated that I’m an editor for The Glorious and Critically-Acclaimed Elf Wax Times.
Where I live, you can’t find peace on the back porch, because some low-life have-not bum will hit you up for a “cig” or failing that, the beer out of your hand. Come test it out if you want. You’ll say, “Hey Elf Wax was right, that fucking loser can’t afford his own cigarettes, yet somehow he’s addicted to them.” Actually don’t come over. I’m sitting in my underwear playing PS3 online and I don’t want shit to do with you unless you are good at Pixel Junk Monsters and have weed. And in this editor’s experience, that pretty much means no one’s coming over.
Anyway, this lesbian and her dyke mommy fired up the old cable modem and took a peek at what her future roommate has been doing with his livelihood. And boy were they amused, or some other emotional contradistinction of a similar degree. Here’s the jist of the half-hour phone call I received at 9 o’clock the same night we looked at the place together:
“Heroin junkheads anonymous. Smack your addiction. How may I help you?”
“Yeah what’s up?”
“James, we need to talk.”
Hot damn, I thought. What’s this girl trying to do? Usually only Lauren’s allowed to call me saying that. “Sure, what is it?” I asked, knowing it would not be good.
“This website,” she began. Jesus Christ, it was just like Weenus, Incorporated and high school. How familiar with this situation I am… “Do you write all the stuff on here?”
“Yeah. You must really like it to want to call me and talk about it. But that’s OK, I know it’s good.”
“Creep you out? Was there something on there that bothered you?”
“Well, the last three stories. And basically everything by Media Mogul. Is that you?”
“Ah, well yeah sorta. You see, ‘we all’ write under that name. I have five writers, every one of them posting under it. Only the regulars get their own pseudonym.” I’m starting to cover my ass but I can tell it’s already too late. I might even have to kill her.
It goes on like this for the next 20 minutes. She tells me about her ideology and how it affects her to the core. “I’m a lesbian, and a lot of the stuff you say. Like your opinions. Like, I don’t know if I’m gonna have to put a padlock on my bedroom door, ya know?” (those doors are hollow honey, a padlock won’t do you any good, I thought) “Am I gonna have to look over my shoulder all the time? Sleep with my eyes open?”
I’m laughing quietly to myself at this point. I even mute the phone to tell the others around me what I am hearing, as well as relaying our conversation via gmail chat to some of the other writers online. It was just so unbelievably funny, that I had to make sure others could remember it as it happened, or else it’d be forever denied as some fabrication or a future embellishment of an early point in the Grand Legend of The Elf Wax Times. This website has cost me a roommate.
The first casualty of war between The Elf Wax Times and the world was not a job, or a friend, or a girlfriend, or my car, or a possession charge – but a dyke roommate. No loss, she had bad teeth and an ugly haircut. Oh, and her attitude was just deplorable, not to mention embarrassing.
“There’s a lot of penis love, and woman hating. And I understand that – boys will be boys.” Yep. And stupid judgmental, hypocrite lesbians will be stupid hypocritical lesbians. This is a girl who expressed to me “We shouldn’t have police. That’s just my opinion. That’s why I want a shotgun. The police are pointless. Fuck the government. We’ll take care of ourselves.” I remember thinking to myself, hey a lesbian I can agree with.” And in all fairness, it stands to reason that a person who harbors such a strong opinion toward the government and humanity might not necessarily love the Elf Wax Times, but see that there’s room enough for this line of thinking, questioning, enough to where any reasonable man would expect the same kind of acceptance for his beliefs equal to that which he gracefully engages, right? Wrong. Not with judgmental hypocrite lesbians. In fact, once we got to talking about The Times, I said, “Yeah I remember you talking ‘down with the government.’ You ever think about writing? We need writers.”
“Yeah, poetry,” was her response. The tone of her voice changed to cautious optimism.
I said, “Oh, well nevermind. We need real writers.”
And that was pretty much that. She called me the next morning waking me up with some excuse about insurance. “If I move out of my mother’s place, I lose my insurance, and that’s like $1,400 and I just can’t afford to move out now, I guess.” I thought, yeah whatever, but if that really is the case…then what we’ve got is not only a judgmental homosexual hypocrite, but a stupid judgmental homosexual hypocrite – almost reduntant in theory, but certainly not in practice. Way to plan ahead, stupid bitch. Or way to tell a transparent lie because you’re too spineless to stand behind some stupid shit you said. Either way, good fucking riddance.
And that’s about all there is to say about the worthless cunt from two weeks ago. Except that yeah, we here at The Elf Wax Times still would’ve hit it.
And hey, this isn’t to say we hate women, or even gays or gay women. In fact, lesbian porn is alright. I have lesbian friends that I wouldn’t want to see in a lesbian porno, but then again, they’re probably not real lesbians. Gay friends, too, people I would do anything for. Well, anything but that. Plus, you’ll never have a gay guy get in your face and say, “Hey Bubba, I think Christian’s the only way to be and I’ll take you out back and kick yer fuckin’ ass if ya say it ain’t again.” You’ll never meet a gay guy who threatens your alpha male status. Likewise, you’ll never meet a gay guy who steals your girlfriend, unless they’re going shopping – and if that happens, bring him over for dinner at least once a week to ensure a long and prosperous relationship with your happy girlfriend who no longer makes you shop with her. You’ll also never accuse a woman of “shopping around with other men.” All in all, leg-shavers aren’t too bad, either. But mostly they are.
On that note, I would like to change the subject. The Rolling Stones stole a beat from Bo Diddly. But the law doesn’t protect drumbeats from copyright infringements. Go figure.
Moving on, I’d like to completely change the subject again using this beautiful transition that I call a period following a sentence. You like it because I tell you to like it. You’re a coward and too afraid to formulate your own opinion, so I’m going to tell you what to think here in a minute. Just sit tight. I learned this from Rush Limbaugh.
Alright, I’ve got myself another beer and I’m one step closer to enlightenment. Or blacking out. One or the two, they’re both the same in the cold, dark end, following a well-timed nuclear holocaust. Now it’s time to molest your little eyes with the truth, my babies. Prepare yourselves for a pointed statement.
Noam Chomsky said that the reason he is not on these late-night TV talk shows can be summarized by one word: concision, something he reportedly lacks. And it’s a judgment he agrees with because, you see, politics and economics and social structure are complex issues that require thoughtful, lengthy dialog, sometimes in the form of exchanged monologue. TV News and Talking Head Shows require their guests to answer a question or refute a claim in two sentences or less. It can’t take more than 30 seconds. The whole idea must be discussed between commercial breaks. Given this, actual intellectual discussion is abandoned, retarding any true progression of American ideology and standing in the way of enlightening discussion of important issues such as the military-industrial complex, the space program, the failures of mainstream media, or the government’s role in health care, if any. This means Noam Chomsky simply won’t be heard, in spite of the fact that he is the most reasonable, thoughtful man you’ll ever hear talking about modern issues that affect us all. His ideas may lack “concision”, but make up for it by the fact that after listening to him, you are enlightened and put at ease; put at ease not by means of pacification, or pandering, but you find yourself eased by reason, something TV news is lacking, and something we’ve learned to live without. Noam Chomsky is what’s wrong with America, simply by way of the fact that no one gets to hear him argue with anybody.
I’ve heard him called extreme once – in a YouTube comment. He’s been called liberal – by a Conservative. He’s never been called a liar, though, and he’s never lost objectivity.
The real reason he’s not on TV can be summarized by middle school algebra, actually. Meet the Press wants to talk about story A and how it relates to story B. Story A indicates this and that, while story B reflects Story A’s ability to really outline the effects of Story B and A+B=A all over again. Let’s consult Mr. Chomsky on this. Chomsky’s response? “Well A and B are correlated, there’s no denying that, but you will see that if you look back through history and compare it to what’s happening with Story C and even the peasants revolt taking place today in Story D (EDITOR: didn’t see C and D coming, did ya fucker?), you’ll see that Story A and B are just an unfortunate side effect of Story E and what’s going on in relation to Story E. Now you see, Story E is unique because of this and that, and I think if we step back and think—”
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Chomsky that’s all we’ve got time for tonight. Thank you for coming on – we’ve still got so much to talk about. I really hope you’ll come back and talk to us again, it’s been a pleasure having you.”
Concision, kids. He lacks it. But did you ask for it? Write NBC, ABC, CBS (leave Fox alone, though, nobody takes them seriously except your stupid neighbor) and tell them you want real discussion on important events. They’ll laugh at you of course, but you can always tell them…just to say you did it, I guess. But let’s face it. Nothing’s going to change. They’ll ride us like whores because we let them fuck us like whores. And when I said write to the networks, I meant mail them letter-bombs with concise slogans like HOPE or CHANGE written on the packaging. They listen to concision, apparently, so maybe this is a good approach. Nothing says concision like a bomb-blast to the face, which is all that TV news is, if you think about it. Domestic terrorism of the mind.
Fuck concision. Concision is something lesbians like. “We’re here! We’re queer!” ….I know. Your point? Oh, you’ve been conditioned not to actually substantiate a claim by nightly news programs such as Heads Talk and Important Issues THAT MATTER MOST TO YOU, YOU FUCKING MCDONALD’S EATING PIECE OF SHIT HYPOCRITE. Yeah, I understand. The concision of your sound-byte argument makes up in attitude what it lacks in substance, right? Did Bill O’Reilly teach you that? Your own worst enemy is often who you parallel, or intersect perpendicularly – or inconsequentially, as you see fit.
‘But hey…I listen to Rage Against the Machine,’ you think. Stand up to the Man, you fucking lazy honkies. I swear to God, we need the fucking bombs of freedom exploding over our skies. They’ll call it terrorism, but that’s how America was fucking born, and how it’ll die. Bombings. Carpet-bombings. Nuclear bombings. Gas-bombing our own students, anti-protests and tanks running over people, just like the streets of China – that’s our future, America. And you welcomed it here when you voted for sleaze bags with big campaign finances in the local primaries – fuckers like Bill Richardson would not have even gotten close to the Presidential Race if it weren’t for you. And he seemed like a good guy when pitted against Mitt Romney and the likes of Gore, Obama and fucking Hillary Quittin. And McCain…what a joke. What a joke the whole god damn thing has been. You told it America, and I guess my reaction is the punchline?
I got an email today. The subject line reads “Fear is Winning.” I agree. It’s from freepress.org. They’re big money grassroots. I met them at the National Conference for Media Reform last year (or was it the year before last?). They’re big money. I used to campaign heavily, personally taxing myself at great lengths to protect net neutrality and that’s how I got wrapped up with them. They do email me every so often, saying, “Net Neutrality under fire again.” I think that issue is their catch-all. People have donated a lot of money to them in the name of Net Neutrality, believing that’s all they do. I don’t know, man. I used to really follow them. I would even go so far as to mail out their auto-letter, where the thing is written for me or I could add what I wanted to it. I don’t know if I trust them anymore, though, given that they make all that money, and I am afraid to just sign a letter they’ve already written for me. So I don’t do that anymore. I write my own letters. Congress used to get letters from me saying, “I would like you to vote on proposition 327 in favor of…” – now they read, “You savage fucking crooks! How could you rape your own countrymen as if we are your back-alley whores and prostitutes. We don’t serve you, you serve us, now get down on your knees and pray to your fake-ass God you don’t have to work for all that money you get.”
I think the message is clearer my way. But I still use freepress’s handy interface to “mail my local congresswhore.”
So after all this, I bid you goodnight, dear readers, and I hope that I wake up tomorrow and find in the AP wire “Extremist exposes himself to a federal judge after reading internet news column.” I’d do it for you, dorks. Now fuck off, I’m drunk.
Astronauts, tired of endless scientific experiments and tedious docking procedures have completed final docking of an entirely new “chill room” which features a specially designed zero-G couch, a PlayStation 3, and a huge keg. The new room is also “420 friendly” as advertised on craigslist, which is identified as the module’s point of origin.
Some of the residents of the International Space Station have given the “chill room” two thumbs up, praising it for the high resolution of the HD television and great satellite TV reception. The gamers, however, complain of “laggy” game play issues that are entirely ruining their experience.
“I didn’t become an astronaut so I could have a first rate gaming system with a second rate network connection” complained one Cosmonaut, who later professed his love for Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. “I’ll shoot the guy, square in the face, and next thing you know I’m being shown a ‘kill cam’ in which I stupidly stare at some n00b wildly spraying bullets in my direction. What a fucking let down.”
The “chill room” also features a telescope window where Astronauts can look at stars and shit, while gaping in glassy-eyed stupor at the wonder that is so far out of their reach. One totally screwed-up ‘naut stared at the Andromeda galaxy for an entire hour, “All of the sudden I realized, dude, that thing is only a few inches big on my telescope but in all likelihood comprises thousands if not millions of planets that bear life.”
Ground control has repeatedly had to discipline the Astronauts for leaving the “chill room” a complete mess. “When they’re up there, floating around sleeping in zero-G with Doritos and PS3 controllers floating all over the place, it can get dangerous. The best we can do is to signal a critical alarm, and hope they don’t just go back to the booze when they realize what we’re trying to do. It hasn’t been working out well.”
Astronaut productivity is down nearly 30 percent and one experiment which is monitoring the effects of zero gravity on a small population of shrimp has apparently disappeared. The implication is that the experiment was eaten. Freeze-dried rations are pitiful munchies, and perhaps we can forgive our Astronauts, because like us, they don’t really give half a shit about how shrimp deal with living in space.