Man Patiently Waits For JNCOs To Be Cool Again

Juggalo
Tom and his JNCOs

Roanoke, Va.–“I used to wear these in middle school, when everybody was doing it. We’d put these jeans on and quietly sit expanding our consciousnesses to Coal Chamber, KoRn, and Insane Clown Posse,” said unemployed Thomas Cranwell, 25, inside his mother’s home where he still resides.

Instead of waiting for the late-90s style to return, experts say he should start hanging out with the right people.

“Still highly sought after by juggalos, JNCOs are the rarest type of jeans found in goodwill,” said InDesign TV’s fashion expert Claude Montagne.

The world’s largest pair of JNCO’s

“They look like a skirt, sometimes, or like a pair of shorts for a giant,” said Montagne, adding, “You drop something in the pockets of a JNCOs and you can forget about it.”

JNCOs were easy to spot in the late 90’s, and were typically held up with one hand while the other hand swayed out at a 45-degree angle, as if the wearer was constantly battling the urge to stiff-arm imaginary children.

The Lee Pipes model, ex-competitor to JNCO, no longer extends ten feet outward in all directions. Following hipster fashion, Lee Pipes now makes skinny, constrictive jeans for people who are just now getting on board.

JNCO’s doctors and lawyers warn against this particular style of jeans, citing reproductive issues as a cause for concern.

“Any male who wears these constrictive jeans for too long risks severe damage to his scrotum, penis, and even the vas deferens,” said El Wax Research Department, Berkeley, California Chairman Dr. Langstrom T. Armstrong, expert in Urology.

“Vas deferens?” he added incredulously, “How do they work!?”

The vas deferens is an eighteen inch tube carrying sperm from the epididymis to the ejaculatory ducts. Or, as Insane Clown Posse explains it: “Miracles.”

“Magic everywhere in this bitch.”

-ICP

Thomas Cranwell said he will hang onto the jeans for at least another decade, holding out either for a relapse in fashion sense or for an open letter of apology from the JC Penny’s that sold him the pants.

“In the meantime,” he said, “I pick a particularly tough day after work and wear them as an aid to my sense of well-being.”

Why I can't do Facebook

I hate my conscience

Okay, there are some things in life you just can’t pass up. I almost clicked the Comment button. Seriously. And what do I have to lose? I should have just done it, but now it’s not funny anymore. Or maybe it was never funny. Or maybe it would just hurt that girl’s feelings because she is not who she used to be and I should not enforce a negative image upon her in front of everyone we’ve ever known personally, and my friends would say, “Come on, man, seriously?” and then I’d feel something called remorse.

That’s because I am a conscious, thinking man with the impulses of a terribly cruel bastard. Meh. What goes around comes around. I’ll get mine one day, but that day hasn’t come yet.

That being said, let’s talk a little shit about Facebook:

A lot’s changed since the last time I used it.

Why is it now considered stalking to look at someone’s profile?

Maybe I’m fucking interested. Am I a stalker now? In high school I dated this girl with a stalker and we didn’t have Facebook yet; in fact, myspace hadn’t even come out yet. What we did have was the telephone, and her back yard where we’d find him standing from time to time. That’s a stalker. This is a website and read this little factoid hot off the news feed: YOU CHOSE TO PUT YOUR INFORMATION ON IT.

I honestly don’t see what’s wrong with camping on a girl’s profile who you like and spamming F5 for hours at a time, or even all day. If that makes me a Facebook stalker, then I’m a Facebook stalker and my wrist hurts.

Why am I a “creeper” for hitting on girls with it?

Because if you do something as simple as using a communication device on a dumb girl, that word comes out. It’s not that sophisticated, honey. I didn’t go out of my way. Not for you. Maybe I can’t find what they call a good girl (which may or may not actually exist) at the bar because her face looks like a leather bag with a cigarette hanging out of it. Maybe I don’t find them at parties because *whore* Maybe I don’t find them where I work because they only hire men to do my job. Although, there is that one cute chick…but she’s a cocktease with a vendetta.

“WHORES AREN’T THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO GO TO PARTIES, MR. SMART ASS ELF WAX WRITER FOR THE INTERNET, MR. I FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING, MR. I CAN’T GET LAID SO I GO ONLINE AND RAGE ABOUT IT.”

Point taken. Still, fuck that.

I operate Facebook like a vast net, trawling the murky unknown for a good conversation, intelligent insight, a funny joke, adding strangers in the hopes of discovering a classy broad who isn’t afraid to go out on a limb and meet a religious rapist-murderer zealot she talks to online. Because I looove to rape me some bitches. So what if I filter out all the ladies except those whose relationship status has just changed to “single”? That’s how you find the ripe ones!

brb jerking off to facebook

Why do people refuse to hang out with me and then have three-hour conversations with me across Facebook?

Maybe it’s because I’ve always been friends with lazy stoners. Or they just don’t like me, which pretty much invalidates our friendship status. -1 friend but there are still 257 left

“Wow asshole, you sure do have a lot of negative opinions about Facebook. Maybe you should stop using it?”

Maybe. But for now, I have developed a sort of perverted fondness for it – like Wal-Mart. Facebook bastardizes human interaction. Wal-Mart destroys local economies. I think the friendship economy is in a recession.

There is intrinsic value in the understanding and hatred of many things, and I encourage all of you to attack something or someone you hate today.

Now, I’m going out to throw some alcohol onto this roaring fire of rage and then I’ll come back to report its effects.

This has been brought to you by Lebal Drocer

“Facebook is garbage.”

-Mike Odum

Edit: I’m home again. I did not drink too much, as I took a look around at my surroundings and into my glass and decided that I’m not reaching my full potential sitting at the bar around people I hate more than myspace. My perspective has not changed, but it did occur to me after some conversation on the matter that Facebook is occasionally used for its intended purpose, like catching up with an old friend after many years. However, my opinion that it is a cesspool of immeasurable proportions will never change, but only reinforce itself as that website gets older and more used, like the girls on it.