Ladies and Gentlemen, it has come to my attention that our dear compatriot Nick Maccombs of the totallyfalse.info has abandoned helm of the fine publication totallyfalse.info.
It is my regret to inform you all Maccombs suffers from Parkinson’s disease, which is no laughing matter. Additionally, he has finally succumbed to a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Nurses close to the editor said he’s “all fucked up” and “pretty much done in.” Nick has forgotten his passwords to everything, and is no longer capable of going online.
It is with great pleasure I announce chronicle.su hereby reserves the right to the Maccombs estate, including the domain totallyfalse.info, as relinquished upon apprenticeship to Lebal Drocer, Inc. and her subsidiaries – [outlined in the Legal section of this site.] This includes all intellectual property rights and access to personal finances.
Let us pray:
Dear Lord, we ask that you protect Maccombs on his holy quest. We ask that you make all the dinosaur bones go away, so that people will stop pointing to Nick as proof of your nonexistence, Dear Lord.
As I walk through /b/ in the shadow of death, I need do no evil, for you are with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort and pleasure me.
Except you, Nick.
Rest in Peace.
This message brought to you infinitely by Lebal Drocer, Inc.
See? I'm really crying. I took this photo to prove it. I even took down my Guy Fawkes mask to show you how grief stricken I am. Never Forget.
Welcome to Ground Zero, the sanctuary of holy American blood
Corrupt politicians are planning 9/11 memorial services without Clergy present. This is yet another sad consequence of the pervasive Marxism of the left. We can all either thank Obama for ruining the tenth anniversary of 9/11, or we, the Tea Party, must take it back.
Lucifer’s servants in the Middle East celebrated in the streets while the Christian world mourned. The demons which escaped were a sign from God that the end-times are near, and Obama is the half Muslim Antichrist.
Osama Bin Laden's face is clearly seen here.
Do you know what kind of life a Christian has in Muslim countries? Christians are persecuted by Muslims every day. Yet we allow Muslims to walk around as if they own this country because of bleeding-heart Liberals. Have we forgotten 9/11?
On that fateful day, I remember seeing debris fall from the buildings, and I did not realize at first that these were actually people choosing to jump to their deaths. They were tempted by Satan with suicide, easy death, and when their bodies hit the ground, their souls continued falling and went straight to hell.
Pure evil was unleashed from the vaporization of Muslim terrorists and expelled in the form of a hateful, sneering smoke face.
The events of 9/11 rocked me to my core. Everything changed. I knew America was under attack and the terrorists must pay. Somebody had to be brought to justice and I did not like the way Muslims were celebrating this horrible disaster. These pictures of demons are simple proof that Muslims are in fact servants of the devil, deserving of the divine justice America has served.
This is why we need prayer at all 9/11 memorial services. Demons have not left Ground Zero, they have only set up shop. The Ground Zero mosque is for some reason allowed where where no Christian prayer may be read. We must take back Ground Zero from the demons and sanctify it once more with the prayers of a Christian Nation.
The Ghost of the World Trade center still carries on, despite the presence of demons.
For Michele Bachmann, it was kill or be killed.
Late Thursday, Fred Phelps of the Westboro Baptist Church had his eyes clawed out by Michele Bachmann. Plans for his funeral have been made, but talk of protests are already spreading. As the man who pioneered funeral protest as a form of free speech, much celebration is expected. Veteran’s advocacy groups have already begun organizing a demonstration for Fred Phelps’ funeral.
“I plan on grilling up some steaks, drinking a few beers, waving some hateful signs, and just generally having a good time at this funeral,” commented one veteran, as he waved his bus ticket at our reporters. “I’ve been ready for this shit for years!”
Bachmann’s lawyers have stated the deadly conflict started as a simple biblical dispute. Phelps believed that God hates all fags unconditionally, whereas Bachmann pushed the idea that God only despised fags who haven’t sought forgiveness for their faggotry. What seemed to onlookers as a bitter sexual assault from Bachmann quickly turned deadly for Phelps.
Fred Phelps’ daughter, Shirley Phelps-Roper, has moved forward plans to protest the protest of her father’s funeral, stating “I should have seen this faggotry coming. Typical faggot move. By the way, Anonymous is a bunch of faggots.” Anonymous was reached, and not a single fuck was given.
Our prophets have reached God Almighty, on high, as he watches these events from outside of time and space. Although his grace is impossible to translate into our infinitely inexpressive language, our prophets have made their best attempt.
“I’m glad Bachmann tore that old man’s eyes out, but he was right about one thing. I hate faggotry. Bachmann and Phelps are both faggots. America’s forgotten what I did to Sodom and Gomorrah. The bible was mostly made up by a bunch of faggots who I hate, and if it’s interpreted as anything but a hateful document, it leads to this kind of bullshit. I am God and I hate faggots like Fred Phelps.”
Berkey, at the start of our daylong interview.
On a brisk October morning in Brookline, a graduate student announced that he was an expert at something, to the total indifference of his friends, peers and vague associates.
The student was reported to Chronicle.SU by a local informant and subsequently identified by spiteful classmates as first year Benjamin Berkey. Berkey, an enthusiast of the dark witch house music scene, tacitly agreed to make a phone statement to me by making dozens of unsolicited calls to the office of The Soviet Chronicle.
“I’ve read many thick tomes so, like Prodicus, I’ve become adept at choosing words. Often I finish sentences for other people in more exact ways than they ever could have expressed themselves. So, I’ve decided to go on a mission for total exactitude in language. Any time anyone strays from the Oxford Dictionary definition of a word, I will correct them in public in an elitist fashion. This will have innumerable social benefits.”
Berkey then invited me to watch him do his work across town to his sparsely furnished Allston apartment. I spent the next eight hours watching him gruel over a footnote, intermittently taking breaks to masturbate and troll the Internet with obscure semantic and grammatical criticisms.
“Work is hard, but I spend every second of every day knowing that I’m making a difference and growing intellectually. I’ve got a bright future and will surely finish my program with a good job. Not many people can say that these days.”
He then agreed to show me his favorite local coffee shop, where he ordered us espressos only to reject them several times due to “the quality of the crema.”
The barista eventually gave up and told us to fuck ourselves. We took a seat in the back of the checker-floored bar, next to a group of bicycle messengers playing bones.
One of the messengers from the group next to us.
As we sat down, one of the dudes among them, a pierced courier wearing a Brooklyn cycling cap, put the finishing touches on a lengthy monologue.
“…and that just begs the question, ‘Is McInnes libertard or not?'”
“Excuse me, sir,” interjected Berkey, “but I believe that you’ve made a mistake. The expression ‘begs the question’ does not in fact designate something that raises questions, but instead refers to an instance of circular reasoning. Be warned.”
The messenger looked over at him and his septum piercing flicked a little spark of a glint in the light. A pug-faced drunken crusty messenger appeared from among the group.
“Why you gotta be a bitch, man? Nobody asked you, faggot. Nobody spoke to you.”
The altercation deeply shocked Berkey, who became horribly insulted. He began to shake and then suddenly walked out of the coffee bar and refused to answer subsequent calls to his cellphone.
I never heard from him again.
RIP, Benjamin Berkey
Update: Several weeks after our encounter, The Boston Globe reported that Berkey had disappeared without a trace. Even more strangely, authorities declined to open an investigation into his disappearance. His family’s attempts to sue the Boston Police Department were bizarrely dismissed in a similar fashion. And in a final twist, my dumbfounded reading of the report to The Chronicle office occasioned a smile in our editor, Kilgore Trout.
“Yeah, the sergeant at Boston PD actually clued me in weeks ago. Benjamin Berkey was administratively arrested as part of a law enforcement operation targeting known gang members and associates.”
Due to her love of pork chops, the heavily tattooed corpse of 27 year old singer/songwriter Amy Winehouse was not buried in the consecrated Muslim territory of Great Britain. Instead, her corpse was cremated late Monday evening, causing a level 7 INES accident. Great Britain is in a state of emergency and a twenty mile exclusion zone around the morgue will be in effect for the next five years.
Charlie Sheen was rushed to Cedar Sinai Medical Center after allegedly hijacking a police helicopter to “bang a few grams” of Amy Winehouse’s cremated remains. After the pilot passed out from the cloud of toxic gas, Sheen crash landed the helicopter near the morgue and crawled through the wreak to reach Winehouse’s ashes. Within moments of smearing his gums with her remains, Sheen stripped naked, spouted several quatrains from Nostradamus, and claimed all of civilization was a mere game of chess strategically played by a race of 16 foot big headed aliens.
Giorgio Tsoukalous has been the first scientist to back Sheen's ideas.
Moments later, Sheen’s eyes glazed over, a small amount of drool escaped the corner of his mouth, and he collapsed to the floor. A frantic call to the police was made by an employee at the morgue who was too busy screaming profanity to give his name. “Please [expletive] hurry! I’m [expletive] positive that this is either one of the [expletive] Olsen twins or Gary [expletive] Coleman. Holy mother of [expletive] I’m [expletive] out of my mind, man!”
Hazmat crews arrived with hermetically sealing plastic coffins, assuming they would find only dead bodies. However, after a hose-down, Sheen reached into his front pocket and took a quick snort of what he had saved of Winehouse and perked right up. Sheen ripped open a worker’s chemical suit and declared victory. “Winning!”
Not enough Tiger Blood?
HOLLYWOOD – Earlier this morning Ashton Kutcher stepped onto the set of Two and a Half Men and into the shoes of Charlie Sheen, only to collapse and die within an hour. Two and a Half Men is the greatest television program of all time.
Kutcher arrived to his first day on set drunk and accompanied by a cadre of male porn stars. Before shooting a single scene, he reportedly tried to “bang 7 gram rocks” in an attempt to live up to the bombastic performance of Sheen. Kutcher’s face was entirely melted before medics arrived. They were unable to revive him.
“You’d think it’d be a half-ass job for any experienced actor to play a smarmy, cock-sure bachelor in a bowling shirt on television. That’s not the case,” commented Sheen, “that pathetic little troll has no Tiger Blood! I told you nobody could handle a dose of Charlie Sheen!”
Meanwhile, Charlie Sheen’s disintegrating acting career has devolved to the lowest level: YouTube and Twitter. Sheen’s Twitter account, the fastest growing in the history of mankind, avoids all the self-destructive fun and serves only to promote his new “jeered-off-stage” comedy tour.
Hollywood elites have approved a new Blu-Ray version of Apocalypse Now: Special Edition, in which Martin Sheen’s face is modified with CGI to look like his son, Charlie, the greatest actor of all time. Charlie Sheen refused to accept any payment for this role except in the form of the purest Colombian Cocaine from his favorite artisan Cocainery.
Ashton Kutcher will not be missed.
For this awesome wordpress theme!
Atahualpa was strangled like a rock star in a strangling chair.
It's called a garrote
An expensive liability, Atahualpa was valuable to the web design community in his time, and by 1533 he had developed the very first fully customizable plug-n-play theme this side of the Mississippi, which during that time was the edge of the known universe.
After the reigning php coder’s execution by strangling, the Incan Empire collapsed and his php code was thought for almost five hundred centuries to be destroyed – until now.
Lebal Drocer, Incorporated recently purchased exclusive rights to the Atahualpa name brand technology and plan to release it on the public within a few short hours.
A Lebal Drocer defended Atahualpa’s five centuries of usefulness in a press conference Thursday. He said, “Remember how the Spanish used him to control the Incan Empire? Now Elf Wax uses him to control their CSS.”
And only a single tear was shed, when he was told he could no longer cross the border to Arizona.