Stalking Brenda Song

Brenda SongBrenda Song is the fuckably-hot Asian girl from Disney’s Suite Life On Deck. Don’t ask why I was watching this because it won’t be covered in this article (click here for an explanation for why I watch Disney Channel at midnight).

In a flash of delusions insight, I thought, “I should stalk seek her out.” So I went on her website. Looks like somebody’s already one step ahead of me.

Some creep asking Brenda Song how best to stalk her
Location: UNKNOWN

But only one step ahead of me, though he clearly has his eye on the prize and puts my rapist ambitions to shame.

I found the above post on her message center (her guestbook). Believe it or not, it gets even better.

Brenda's Creeper
Just tell him where to mail it, Brenda.

I don’t even know what to say about this fellow. He posts faithfully, every day, and the screenshot you see here is his shortest post yet. By the progression of his messages, I predict total emotional collapse, coinciding conveniently with the Rapture set to take place Saturday.

And just when you thought the weirdness was too much to bear, this happened:

Brenda's Baby-Daddy
OK, now WTF

By this point, I just feel bad for Brenda Song. This guy Mickey – no relation to Disney’s cartoon mouse (I think) – has been trying to make their one-sided relationship work which, unbeknown to Brenda Song, appears broken beyond repair; all this, in spite of Mickey’s anticipation of their second love child (his words, not mine). Mick’s obsession appears to have lasted roughly two weeks, or the average amount of time necessary for a Hollywood stalker-rush to degenerate into angry masturbation.

The Suite Life On Deck is the reincarnation of Suite Life Of Zack And Cody, a show on the Disney Channel chronicling the misadventures of two latent-homosexual cousins.

After reading this, Brenda Song will resort to puritanical moderation of her website, before removing the comments section altogether.

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.

Your daughter's a whore, and not even the good kind

Your daughter
Your daughter

You sick fucks. Stop coming here. Elf Wax Times doesn’t need you.

You dress up your daughters like little Tijuanan whores. Let them wear makeup. Tiny shorts. They’re twelve years old for god’s sake. Grow a pair and be a dad, you disgusting fuck, and stop pimping out your child. She doesn’t need to lose her virginity before she’s 13. Or did you already take it, because you’re just that fucked up?

Maybe in a way you did, because you didn’t give her any rules, any love, any direction, or any discipline or motivation to be anything besides fucked, because you yourself lack the cognisant ability to provide even a small child with the stability and love necessary to keep her from going to bed with the first guy who promises to make her a woman, because you couldn’t take care of her as a little girl.

Your little girl wants to grow up faster than she can ditch My Littlest Pony for Hannah Montana for a pregnancy test. And it’s all your fault, Dad. Instead of pissing in her panties and sniffing them at 4 AM, maybe you could have been telling her how to keep them on. Or keep her hymen, or your respect. But instead you just jerk off to internet porn and fantasize about fucking her little friends and you’re a bit too rough as you tuck her in at night. And you don’t read her one god damn story about a bitch running for president, or inventing laser technology.

You make me fucking sick. You sick fucks. I know what you’re thinking. “Who is this prick to call it like he sees it?” I’m me. And you’re worthless parent number 3271407498357.

You know the score. I shouldn’t have to be the referee, but here I am. Telling you that I see you walking right behind your slutty tween daughter when you come in to where I work every week. And each time I ask myself, who bought her the clothes? Who never slapped her to the floor and said, “Don’t be a little slut Janie!” Who never thought twice about the way the crumbs hit the table as he ate his thousandth meal in front of an awkward table of people he calls family?

Your kids are your fucking pets. So why don’t you lock them in a dark basement for 24 hours and let them know that you’re in fucking charge, that you buy their clothes, and that you think Miley Cyrus, that little slut that Billy Ray Cyrus pimps out to the cameras, is a whore who sucks off Mickey Mouse and sells sex to minors with lipstick, blush, and a show that is neither funny nor intelligent?

Oh, I will tell you why. Because your wife knows you actually think about fucking your daughter when you’re huffing away on top of her, stinking of cigarettes and panting your rotten booze-breath down her resistant nostrils, just trying to close your eyes and pretend you aren’t really fucking a fat-ass soccer man. Because she knows you didn’t get that promotion. Because your boss knows you’re a creep. Because your boss has seen your daughter and also secretly jerks it while thinking about fucking her, too, because you dress her up like a little Disnified Harlot servicing the Magic Kingdom. “Rent the ‘Tiniest Princess,’ honey. We love that one, don’t we?” But mainly because you are a crummy parent, and you’ve failed your child, if not yourself.

The only time you spend with your warped daughter she doesn’t even know about, because it all takes place in your delusional mind via rationalization for your shortcomings as a pseudo-parent.

You’re a sick fuck who lets her dress the way all the boys want her to dress, and you would rather believe she’s going to a sleepover at little Suzy’s and staying there instead of actually facing the reality in the back of your mind in which she’s at the park losing her virginity to a nineteen-year-old with a motorcycle on the swingset you never pushed her on.

Get your shit straight, American Dads. Or The Elf Wax Times will start phoning your homes. We have your information – your phone numbers, addresses, social security numbers. Driver’s licenses, credit cards. We have the means, we have the motive. We have the sense of self-righteousness that sets us apart from regular human beings, that makes us better than you. And we aren’t afraid to use it. Now close your fucking browser, delete your cookies, erase your history, and forget you read this. We don’t want you reading another page of this shit because you aren’t fucking good enough, motherfucker. Eat shit and die. I hate you. We hate you. We hate your family. We hate your friends. We hate the house you live in and the Mercedes you drive – you fucking Nazi. We hate the valley you poison. We hate the tradition you spread, of ignorance and television, and of slutty daughters and of forged integrity and false systems of values and morals and definitions of what is right and wrong. We hate you.

MILEY CYRUS – TRIBULATION

When Miley Cyrus broke the sound barrier, we thought we’d seen everything. However, after punching through the Earth’s exosphere, the Disney Star approached escape velocity at 7 miles per second, then exploded brilliantly into a stream of atoms.

-Eyewitness report

Miley Cyrus, moments before reaching
critical mass over the Pacific Ocean

Astronomers worldwide confirmed Miley’s ascension into the cold, radioactive vacuum of space following the shockwave elicited by her sonic boom, visible from almost every clear sky in the Northern Hemisphere.

Fans of Miley say they believe the sexually exploited children’s TV star was in fact an angel in disguise. Her reasons for suddenly and inexplicably self-propelling off the face of the Earth, fans speculate, is that although they (that is, girls in the 8 to 13 years’ age range) respect her good choices and strive to emulate her in every way, these girls were not devoting enough of themselves and their disposable incomes to the Disney Corporation, Cyrus’s parent company and sole owner of her product name and fortune – and so she was removed from our unworthy planet.

Some sources blame hard times. Others believe the crisis deepens.

Elf Wax theological experts say that when good, hard-working Americans begin to establish the credibility of an organized Disney-consumer relationship, there might someday be a second coming of Miley Cyrus, but after – and only after – Billy Ray Cyrus is dead. This owes in part to the theory that the constant, photographed molestation of his daughter is part of the reason she has dematerialized in outer space.

Some fanatics have elected to crucify him or even stone him to death in a hole, but experts warn against interference of the Divine Walt Prophecy of the Magic Kingdom, a puritanical manifesto that lays out the future of little girls’ sexuality for all White, Western humanity, and Wal-Mart, to follow infallably the daytime TV Disney channel programming schedule and release dates for Up and its sequel, Down, noting that a lapse in good judgment is what caused Miley to originally disappear, and that any further failure to adhere to the strict puritanical morals set out by the religious/socioeconomic status quo could lead to dangerous levels of independent thought and a decline in second guessing of our true nature as human beings.

It’s what some experts in Washington describe to be “a dangerous concoction of emotional freedom that, if placed in the wrong hands, might galvanize what would be an otherwise unquestioning populus into free-thinking people who form their own opinions about lifestyles, choices made based solely on the individual’s ability to inform him/herself through God-given, not Disney-given, intuition and logical trains of thought.”

Pedophiles everywhere are eagerly watching the skies – and the obituaries – awaiting the return of Miley Cyrus upon the eve of Billy Ray’s demise.

MASS MIND-RAPE BROUGHT TO YOU BY LEBAL DROCER

Cuthbert, Ga.–A local clergyman molested three boys in the course of one morning shift in the confessional box. On this subject, Pope Benedict XVI spoke publicly, however bluntly, when he told the press, “Join us or die.” The spiritual leader then claimed to be pure energy, and compared himself to “the malevolent moon” whose gravity controls the soul-washing high tides of the Dark Side. More as this familiar saga unfolds.

Pope Benedict XVI, seen here coaxing
young Skywalker into the Dark Side

In other news, your friendly neighborhood truth outlet, The Elf Wax Times, has once again raised the bar on excellence in journalism. Elf Wax Laboratories, in conjunction with Big Brother, have staged a three-front media gang-bang in the form of interactive chat rooms and forums that can now be found right here on the very page you’re happily absorbing.
Possible uses for these chatrooms are:
  1. Community organizing (just like Barack Obama!)
  2. Internet predation
  3. Learning
  4. Discussion of current events
  5. Discussion of painful past events
  6. Discussion of events that will likely never happen but are still theoretically probable
  7. Discussion of conspiracies as though they are fact, and/or happening right now
  8. Cyber (for best results, use 15/f/ca)
Join your Elf Wax Staff for extended discussion around subjects that you think, or pretend to think, matter most at Lebal Drocer Incorporated (LLC). It’s what the president would do if he no longer had full administrative access to the United States’ confiscated drug supply.