Heroin Epidemic Benefits Heroin Users

Jeff Norment loves heroin.
Jeff Norment loves heroin.

RICHMOND, Va. – As state and local police bark outrage into TV cameras about ‘drug abuse’ and ‘urban decay’, lamenting spikes in violent crime, one often-overlooked piece of the picture in the war on drugs is the people actually using drugs.

To people like 27-year-old Jeff Norment, the heroin coming down I-75 from Detroit is “a God-send.” Norment says heroin has improved his life considerably, although his point of view is often brushed aside in favor of order and public safety.

“I was eating 20 and 40 pills a day, you name it, I was doing it,” Norment said, looking real cool. “But it was hell on my liver. But now that I’m on heroin – I’m in Heaven!”

Norment argued that the Richmond media – TV news in particular – does not represent all sides of the story, with a tendency to favor police and marginalize victims.

“Typical TV news story: we went to the Richmond police. We went to the state police,” Norment said. “But they didn’t come a-callin’ for old Jeff, saying, ‘Jeff how you liking them drugs?’ Now how are you gonna call that objective journalism and tell me I’m the bad guy?”

Norment argued that his voice is the missing piece of the story of a so-called ‘heroin epidemic’ in Richmond.

“I smoke crack on the reg. I snort dust on the reg. I shoot heroin on the reg, and you don’t see me committing no crimes. I just like me the rush, is all. And I like to lay here on this sofa playing PlayStation.”

Norment, who lives near the Grace Street Police Station, said police knock on his door almost every day – sometimes looking for suspects – sometimes just to break his balls.

“I know it ain’t good for me,” Norment said, rolling his eyes. “They’re always telling me that.”

Norment said if it weren’t for the police, he would have fewer problems.

“Thanks to heroin,” Norment said, “I’ve dodged a few bullets, both figuratively and literally. Shit, heroin even helps me escape the crushing reality of using heroin.”

28-year-old VCU alum Stephen Ascot says heroin affords him a certain lifestyle. The only difference, Ascot said, is that he is not on heroin.

“My weed dealer across the street gets me what I need, but he doesn’t give me heroin,” Ascot said. “I just know he’s going to be there, because he is on heroin.”

Richmond Police Captain Mike Ebert said drugs might feel good now, but addicts will “be pretty sore” about the crackdown on horse pouring in from Detroit.

“It’s easy to get addicted to the stuff, you just put it in your arm,” Ebert said. “But they’re going to be pretty sore about it when there ain’t no more heroin left for sale on the streets, after they do it all up.”

Ebert said his department is working with state police to set up checkpoints along the I-75 corridor to catch heroin traffickers coming down from the Motor City.

“Of course, the stops are designed to appear random,” he said. “But they’re not. We’ll know who to stop.”

This news is brought to you graciously by Lebal Drocer Pharmaceuticals.

Heroin is SWEET

Anti-hate protest results in 'no additional love'

Richmond, Va.–“Protesters” gathered behind the VCU Student Commons last week where they rallied around their anti-hate values.

Automatically failing to realize being anti-anything is a form of hate in itself, students and activists, mostly lesbians, unquestioningly stood around holding signs carrying messages of peace, or of hatred for anti-loving attitudes.

The demonstration was staged as a counter-protest to the Westboro Baptist Church picket in front of the Holocaust Museum, where cold Richmonders apathetically gazed on in bewilderment at how religious fanatics are still more educated on current events than themselves.

“Where are the Westboro Baptists?” our reporter asked a bystander shortly after arriving at the event, which was heavily publicized on the social fuckworking site Facebook.

“Oh, they aren’t here. They were at the Holocaust Museum earlier today around twelve,” replied the hate-hating lesbian whose sign read “I SAW FRED PHELPS NAKED AND NOW I’M A LESBIAN.”

That’s right. Nobody saw each other, in spite of the fact one group gathered as a counter-protest to the other. You can’t make this up. Let’s consult a map.

Fortunately the police maintained control of the situation
Fortunately the police maintained control of the situation

WBC were at the Holocaust Museum, denying the Holocaust on behalf of Iranian Dictator Ahmedinejad. It sounded like a good spot to rally, so why didn’t any counter-protesters with signs show up there instead of between school buildings where nobody could see them?

“I believe the museum asked people not to bring signs and keep that sort of thing on the downlow,” said Midlothian resident Niki S. who did not attend the counter-protest because “it sounded lame.”

And it was. There were choirs preaching to choirs, singing the gospel of their anti-hate agenda.

“I am proud to see so many of you come out today. Your unity restores my faith in people, even though, uh, you have shown up where there is no specific concept to get behind, you have all still come together. And that so many of you showed up tells me something.” -male speaker who bravely attempted to intellectually justify ambiguities of the peace protest

Most everyone stood in a semi-circle around a group of people holding signs with one word per person that read “VCU STANDS TOGETHER AGAINST HATE”, holding their signs up pointed at each other, apparently protesting themselves.

Soviet-Russia was well-represented. Enthusiastic Communists held a flag over the banner facing toward the podium. They said it represents freedom. Our reporter agreed.

This event was actually so bad we took equally bad video footage so you could believe it for yourselves. We’ll post it as soon as it’s ready.

Freedom ain't free. It's regulated and redistributed by the government first.
Freedom ain't free. It's regulated and redistributed by the government first.

Some girl got on the microphone and said, “You do not have to be a rug for someone to walk on with their big, muddy, hate-filled boots,” and that was the last thing Elf Wax could stick around to report. Not because it was intolerably stupid, which it most certainly was, but because we were illegally-parked and the meter-maids have a personal vendetta to kill our reporters slowly with towing fees and child molestation charges.

[Editor’s note: he was acquitted of those charges.]

In conclusion, VCU’s silly bring-a-crazy-sign-day is an insult to all forms of protest and serves only to de-legitimize true protest when people who really stand up for what they believe in aren’t taken seriously, diluting the effects of actual protesting around real problems like war, genocide, and corporate takeovers.

Do you people even realize what you did? You made stupid signs and stood around other people who made stupid signs and fucking pretended to protest. Some of you wore iPods. This is what people associate with protest now – masturbatory, self-serving meandering that gets literally nothing done. It literally brings tears to my eyes to recall the memories of how you “protested” on that day. Oh Lord you people are terrible. Get fucked.

Do you want to stage a protest? Get a can of gasoline, make an effigy of members of your local government – or who cares, Obama – and get to work. Don’t let the word ‘work’ scare you dirty anarchohippies, because you will gather enough supporters by simply copy-pasting Elf Wax onto posterboard and ranting it continuously over a burning Dennis Kucinich doll. This kind of work does itself, gets results, and gets you fucking laid, bitch.

Once you have been forced off the grid by your legal obligations to the uprising, you will find support in Lebal Drocer’s password-protected, hyper-encrypted closed local networks in key underground areas that will be emailed to you by the [email protected] listserv when the time is right.

So protest is ruined. However, a molotov-cocktail through the back windshield of a squad car has always sent a stronger message than protest songs, anyway. Why’d we ever stop that?

This is Elf Wax Times signing off, requesting violent revolution.

If you want the change you had in mind while voting for Obama, you’re going to have to organize yourselves and take it by force – Elf Wax style. Then, maybe one day the pawns might become the knights, and we will ride together, storm the white house gates, the corporate high-rises, closed-off hotels, and Silicon Valley boutiques, and our new order will force the king to cook for us and the queen will serve as the town’s newest whore, and our skin will become greasy and tight, our souls shut off by the newfound power vested in our elected military leaders by the gun and hand grenades; until we become uglier than the pigs we overthrew; coups-d’etats will occur on a near-weekly basis heralding the collapse of Western Civilization once and for all under the suffocating forces of newly-required anarchosocialism that just won’t seem to work no matter who we kill. So go to the grocery store and don’t forget Hot Pockets…and posterboard.

Larry And His Flask

Richmond, Va.–Elf Wax Times went deep into the seedy underground of the Richmond music scene to find Larry And His Flask performing songs of hate around midnight of the 23rd at Cous Cous. Motherfuckers jammed.

“Basically put like fucking Modest Mouse together with some Jefferson Airplane shit and Larry’s what you get,” said VCU Criminal Justice major Kim Something Or Other. We got her phone number.

The vocals harmonized nicely with the guitars, but all the assholes dancing around The Elf Wax Times staff were rude and did not respect others’ personal space. The authorities were notified, however no arrests have yet been made because the police are lazy scumbags who’d rather insufflate an eight ball of confiscated blow than arrest college students, although that is their second priority because nobody was nice enough to hang out with them during high school to make sure they don’t power trip in the future.

So there were VCU pigs walking up and down Grace St. late last night. On a Monday night, there’s hardly a dude worth fucking with but the police found him: an old crippled guy in a wheelchair was sitting in a recessed doorway, pointed toward the wall when some dick cop approached him asking, “What are you doing here?” to which he responded, “I’m just chilling out.”

The Elf Wax Times did not stick around to make sure civil rights were respected because we have no compassion for even the seemingly homeless. Our apathy overrides even the most basic instincts of decency especially in the presence of law enforcement. This is because we have taken copious amounts of LSD, psilocybin mushrooms, morning glory seeds, Hawaiian Baby Woodrose tea, pills, duster, and the synthetic compound known as 2C-I. No big deal, but we ate that shit all at once, so fuck that guy in a wheelchair.

And fuck you. Larry and his flask will be on tour with the Dropkick Murphys (or whatever those fags are called), unfortunately opening for the bastards even though everybody knows it should be the other way around. Fuck mainstream music and fuck you for liking it.

Fuck the government for sponsoring Elf Wax Drunkenness and fuck your mother’s failed abortion that became you. We don’t like you and don’t want you reading The Elf Wax Times because you have not taken the sworn oath drug-influenced Elf Wax piety. When the revolution comes, you’ll be forced to eat fourteen doses of acid and watch The Wall while we drill messages of fear and totalitarian government control into your enfeebled brains. In your offtime we do respect your right to smoke cigarettes but not to religion. For religion, you must turn to Carl Sagan for guidance because unlike the rest of humanity you are now a glowing ray of light, no longer bound by the human form, for you can – and do – understand and know everything under the sun. In fact, you control it.

Now get fucked up watch FOX News because it’s what you’re designed to relate to – not us. We aren’t you and you’ll never be one of us. You’ll always be a fucking scum-sucking whore of the capitalistic enterprise over our freedoms of self. Wal-Mart owns you now, and Target is where you rebel. China runs our shit, and America strives to become them. Countries’ only meaning lies in how we identify ourselves. With enough trade, this will change and our so-called “identities” will meld with the world-dominating enterprise of necessity. We’re fucking doomed to live on and serve into perpetuity the human plantation we helped create. We, and free enterprise, which should also be destroyed or undermined by faithful Elf Waxers. Destroy yourselves, and you’ve destroyed the government’s income. Well done, suicide machines.

Vote against freedom. It’s what Elf Wax would do. It’s what you have been conditioned to do. But don’t be surprised when the voice of protest sounds like a large group of angry bluegrass musicians who don’t even sit down to play the drums.

Eleven dead after release of new McDonald's "food product"

Today, 11 people died when a local McDonald’s announced a new item on their Dollar menu. The sandwich promised to contain so much grease and sugar, you were guaranteed a doctor’s visit redeemable with an official voucher printed and attached to every receipt.

While people continue to kill themselves from the inside out by eating McDonald’s hamgurgers, on Friday, brutal tramplings killed three children and an elderly couple, among six other victims whose remains have been sent to RPD for identification.

Officer Hindenson told reporters this afternoon, “The police are ready to hand out a killer slap on the wrist,” to those involved in Friday’s stomping-related deaths.

“We just want to see justice brought to the guilty few who halted the restaurant’s flow of business on the busiest second shift of the week,” said Officer Hendenson. “We deeply regret that these reckless, dying persons saw it fit to lay in the doorway and die while hundreds of hungry patrons impatiently waited outside.”

“All they wanted to do was give McDonald’s money.”
State-appointed attorney for McDonald’s victims

Hendenson indicated that since the perpetrators in the slayings are now dead, claims may have to be filed against their families.

McDonald’s lawyers were not immediately available for comment, but experts say the company stands to gain roughly $6.7 billion paid in reparations by the survivors.

The coke-addled state-appointed attorney defending the dead victims of what the media is calling the “Fries Eleven” tragedy released a troubling statement to reporters earlier this afternoon. It reads:

Now take one minute, if you will, a moment of silence; a moment of prayer; for the friends and family members of the employees and manager on duty. Let’s pray that they get their shit together, and are not too freaked out by all those customers dying.FRIES-ELEVEN

We need them to pull it together for the big win on Saturday, when returning patrons, newly-addicted to the McGrease, return in droves among fresh customers to create what is expected to be the most powerful surge of fast food patronage the United States has seen since the toxic release of the formidable Happy Meal in the early 1980s.

“When the Happy Meal came out, there were slayings. Savage, shameful mutilations of human beings the likes of which the Manson Family could never have dreamed of,” said Officer Hendinson, gleefully.

“We’re hoping we won’t have to release the hounds, but we have entire squads of men stationed in and around every McDonald’s between here and Henrico County. They are armed with mace, riot batons, rape-sticks, and caustic battery acid rounds. They’re non-lethal, of course. We have everything under control.”

To find follow-ups to this rapidly-developing story, check our Twitter account and shit like that.

The Elf Wax Times is brought to you by…

We’re not doing advertisements.

This is what you get.

AdvertisementBack in Roll-a-toke, where I went to high school, my friends (circle of friends has changed very much since then but these are good guys) still get together to play four-player anything – Mario Kart Wii was first, then CoD4 and WaW, and now Modern Warfare 2. I really appreciate that they keep the gaming true to its form. They don’t play WoW, they don’t even have Internet. Everybody’s getting high and enjoying each other’s company around a videogame, just like it was when we were kids. When I grow out of that, just kill me.

One of these guys is an Elf Wax Times writer, and if it weren’t for our basic agreement on this fundamental way of life, we would probably have forever lost contact. But there comes a time in life where one looks around himself and sees nothing familiar, and rather than again venturing into the mist, he opts, just for a little while, to get back to what’s not only familiar, but truly rewarding. In this case, it is videogames with my friends. People don’t get enough of this. Oh, and that’s right – one of your beloved Elf Wax Timers doesn’t have the Internet.

Since moving back to my college town of Larger City, USA, I have not found a friend as good as the one I left behind. You might know him as our best Elf Wax Times writer on staff. He invented Elf Wax. He wrote a program, or maybe two, that spammed MUME into the ground for hours at a time. MUME is EverQuest Online Adventures without graphics. They invented IP-banning because of him. And because I’ve been needing a distraction from reality lately, I have been playing MUME; playing this text-RPG based on LOTR is kind of nice, because it’s a chance to enter a world which he helped create, by attempting to destroy it. But that’s not really why I play, it’s just a nice effect. I actually play MUME because since moving back to the intellectual hub of Any State, USA with an income tax so high it would make the Queen of England grow a dick and jizz her pants, my brain is starving. Can you believe it? In a college town, where I’m surrounded by “smart people,” there’s not a healthy dialog for miles.

When people go to college for the prescribed amount of time, it has this effect on them in which their ideals stagnate, their eyes jade over, and they sort of get by on the notion that “I’m in college. Doing what I can. I don’t feel like I need to be doing anything extra.” Extra includes starting or helping a publication, like the glorious Elf Wax Times. Extra can also include, and does also include thinking. Just plain old critical thinking about something besides your girlfriend and your schoolwork. College makes people forget that the whole point of structured education is to serve the working world. By living under the illusion that they’re serving themselves, feeding their own heads with someone else’s drivel, they’re systematically destroying their ability to hear the real ‘other voice’ inside. It might have something to do with paying for your classes, or the classes themselves. I know that they preach self-discovery and they talk to you like adults. But professors are as indoctrinated as middle school teachers. And 21-year-old graduates are as sheep-like as sheep themselves. There’s nothing adult about being ground up in the same commercialization of human dejection as everyone else – unless you understand it enough to “be able to explain it to your own grandmother.”

See? I learned that quote in college. I think I was on LSD at the time, reading an Einstein quote on somebody’s AIM profile, but I was enrolled in classes. Just like secondary school, college lessons can be applied to the problems of college itself, or of the world in general. It’s just logic. But it’s logic presented in a deceitful way, carefully twisting your brain out of your control, and into theirs. The military-industrial complex, and the pressures it puts on a society lead us to distrust, band together in a xenophobic fury so we may better divide from one another, hate each other more than anything else but ourselves – who we hate the most. Cellularize our lifestyles. It used to be the police showed up to dangerously large parties; now, the “Party Patrol” busts everything up, adding charges, too. Welcome to the cellular lifestyle. Why do you kids still need to party when the government maintains Facebook for your use and enjoyment? The only measurable value left in our world is the artificial value of the paper fucking dollar, and people are convinced, maybe not that they’re happier this way, but that this is the best way for everyone.

Come to college – where anti-intellectualism is taught.

Out the proverbial window went the idea that there is some worldly value for things besides monetary value divided by time over output. “The Elf Wax Times is a huge success these days.” – Hey, that’s great. You going to advertise?

No, I don’t think I will. We’ve talked about the idea. We’ve shot it down inside while keeping it on the table outside. And now it’s begun to rain on the idea we left on the table outside, eroding the glitter from the thought of a Pabst Blue Ribbon banner ad on The Elf Wax Times. Advertisements are fucking ugly in ways exceeding aesthetics. Why would I put ads on the front page of this website?

They represent everything I hate about society, information, the media, our thought processes which advertising poisons. We won’t do that to you, dear readers. Although we stand to make possibly tens of thousands, we have jobs outside of this website. Good jobs, provided lovingly by Lebal Drocer, Incorporated. We work hard to suckle on the tit of the hard-working, and it pays. Not great, but well enough so we may healthily bring you the Truth. If we advertised Elf Wax Times, we’d be no better than Maddox. The Best Advertising Site in the Universe. The Onion did it, so why shouldn’t George Ouzanian? That’s Maddox in case you don’t know. We figured it out somehow, and we got stoned in high school, called his mom and told her about the site so she’d give us his phone number. She did, and we called him asking for beer, telling him the site was really funny. “How’d you get this number?” And that’s how Maddox’s mommy found out about Maddox, and it created a lot of grief for him. I used to feel bad for doing that. Not so much anymore.

Every day, I listen to the “people” I ‘work for’ fucking up the economy in real-time behind my ears, and I think about how they get away with degrading my quality of life, and yours. Every day, your beloved Roajoke writer goes to his work, which is better than mine in all ways, and thinks about the shit I hear where I work, not knowing that I hear it, but agreeing nonetheless. We need this as people. Why don’t you have it?

I lost a good friend when I came back to this dump of a city. My smartest friend, the friend who laughed with me about shit nobody else even realized is going on, the friend who helped me move, and who chopped a mountain down with the edge of his hand is back there in the life I left behind. He was the only friend who ever thought on my wavelength, and I think it might be because we learned how to make music together. From the first-or-second day we met, we’ve always thought on a higher plane together. That’s not the clandestine Elf Waxian arrogance you’ve come to know and love – the truth is that musicians think on a higher plane while playing music than most humans are able to recognize. I left him behind to pursue my useless college degree. Mother Fuck this place, and this world, and fuck you to help propagate it; you sick fucking bastards.

And now things have changed. I’m having to get by without him; keep this site going without him egging me on to do it; keep seeing things my way, and not television’s way, or the Dollar’s way. But Our Way. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t afraid of losing who I really am. I’d be a bigger liar if I said I don’t care about becoming someone better. I’d be Oral Graham if I told you money doesn’t actually matter to me, and I’d be a sell-out for admitting it.

So stay tuned to the Elf Wax Times for a brand new ideology.

“The reason our institutions, our traditional religions, are already crumbling is because THEY’RE NO LONGER RELEVANT! It’s time for us to create a NEW philosophy, and perhaps even a new religion, you see, and that’s okay because that’s our right. We are free children of God with minds that can imagine anything, and that’s kind of our role. How do you evolve ideas? I’ll give you an example right here… Why is the drug czar in this country, well I’ll go back, why do we HAVE a drug czar in this country? A. B, Why is he a cop? Why isn’t he a guy in recovery who’s HAD an alcohol and/or drug addiction and overcome it, and why doesn’t he HELP people with the same problem, with compassion rather than condemnation? Why do we put people who are ON drugs in jail? They’re SICK! They’re not criminals. Sick people don’t get healed in jail. See it makes no sense! And if we evolve the idea, you see, the planet might be more compassionate, and something like HEAVEN might dawn.”

Bill Hicks

Richmond Mayor forces two children to fight

The two Richmond boys were allegedly paid in cookies to fight "to the death"
Mayor Jones is seen here applying force on two reluctant boys' pressure-points

Richmond, VA–Mayor Dwight C. Jones (Mister C.) allegedly forced two children to duel for their lives Monday following their “art” submissions to a new program intended to renew inner-city schools by funneling coke money into Jones’ own pockets.

“None of this would have happened if art wasn’t allowed in school,” said the losing victim’s mother Courtney Harris. “I have never felt so ashamed,” she confessed, “until I realized my son is a dead loser.” Ms. Harris later indicated she is “glad” her son is dead, a shift in opinion analysts say is “notable.”

Dwight Jones made no comment about the duel, citing federal gag-orders due to unpaid gambling debts to crack dealers in Jackson Ward, but he did have this to say:

“I have always felt that art in public schools is a waste of money on kids who are inherently talentless but are, as I have proven – better fighters; at least – half of them are.”

“Who knows about the dead?” he quipped.

Who knows, indeed? Richmonders are in an uproar over the whereabouts of the dead child’s body, who can not be named, due not to legal implications but to the fact that authorities have been unable to locate either the whorehouse to which the boy’s mother supposedly belongs, or any records on the child who authorities now believe was born “under the radar.” City officials said due to the loser’s mom being a straight-up crack-whore, no father can possibly be determined. So far, paternity tests have narrowed the possible fathers down to a short list of five men who share the GCG, or Gary Coleman Gene. But their semen is allegedly so polluted with King Cobra malt liquor that no testing machine can solve the “Riddle of the Richmond Ghetto.”

“I hate children, and I support Mayor Jones’ decision to enslave them for use in his personal gambling dens. I wish they’d all die, or at least be forced to do other violent things, like fight in wars.”

-Anonymous

Let's go to the river!The boy’s severely-battered corpse is thought to be somewhere in the James River, a popular dump-point used by the holographic chemical plant Allied Chemical, the shell of a company who once allied with Capitalism to dump kepone, a popular ‘cool’cinogen used in roach poison, into the James River, which consequently flowed straight into the kepone-intolerant nervous systems of many workers in Hopewell – a move Mayor Jones applauds enthusiastically as the James River’s claim to fame. The forty-year poisoning of Hopewell factory workers marks the country’s first environmental disaster that would later give rise to unprecedented shirking of responsibility employed by corporate entities across America.

In the eclipse of U.S. President and War Strategist Barack Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize, Mayor Jones finds little reason to carry out a search for the boy, especially given his intimate, but silent knowledge of the child’s do-doubt gruesome fate which Jones’ publicists said “might spoil the endorsement.” Inside sources say the mayor had the boy contaminated with several carcinogenic compounds that would ferry their way via his body to South Carolina lowlands, where the child will cause countless still-births and unexplainable cancers.

No one from the school board or any of the childrens’ teachers were immediately available for comment. This is due in part to the fact that people in the ghetto are constantly avoiding bill-collectors, so they don’t answer the phone for any unfamiliar number.

More to come on this, as Mayor Jones’ indictment goes awry in the second part of our wacky, cocaine-powdered adventure of “Richmond Mayordruglord to the bitter end.”

I’d like to sext you up

Roanoke, Va. – Sexting. We’ve all done it, or at least most of us have; and then we disseminate it throughout the internet so that geeks like you can share the glory, by passing it along to other geeks. Sexting is thought by scholars to be the first instance in human history where two people flirting around benefits the rest of mankind by spraying sets of nude pictures across the information superhighway.

“It ain’t all glory holes and slick-bottoms, though,” said Phillip Bernstein, Richmond-area sexter. Sexting has recently come under fire from the mainstream media who exploits it to gain ratings by selling to perverted America the very idea that there really are 13-year-old girls getting naked on camera somewhere, for someone. “How despicable,” the news anchors tell you. “How intriguing,” you actually think. Because you are a pedophile and you’ve gotten to this site by googling jailbate – a key term sure to be found in the tags section at the bottom of this article. The FBI are on their way.

Miley Cyrus advertises using sexting
Miley Cyrus advertises using sexting

But sexting, as everyone knows, is rooted in the regular text messaging feature put in place on all cell phones everywhere by loving cell phone “care”iers like Verizon and Sprint. And while having your girlfriend text you pictures is wonderful for everyone, sexting isn’t the only thing that makes paying $15 per month the biggest mistake a parent can make when raising his/her child – the whole text messaging lifestyle turns waterhead kids into flatline pets that trail behind you as if by some invisible leash.

Rare fact: it is the parents’ choice to pay for the text service. However oftentimes they will unknowingly buy text messaging with their plan; others think, “Heavens to The Grand Tits of Betsy! What happens if I get into a car accident, the vehicle flips over, and the steering wheel pinches my throat off so I can’t use my voice? Ah-HA! I will text Lassie!” Whatever failure of logic bleeds through their brains, all of these parents fail to make the sister choice to buying this service – “slapping that little bitch in the face when she turns into a whore.”

vidcap_sexting0515

What I’m about to tell you is the story of the North American

suburb-crawling skank.

There are little girls who trail behind mommy or daddy through Anytown, USA, staring down into their twiddling hands at what is without fail – without question – and without having to look: a cell phone.

They are oblivious to what is happening around them. “Honey, can you help me find 17 cents?” — “…huh?” I said, “We all want to take your melon head and smash it into a wall.”

Wow! Given all the threats, I’d have to assume texting is useful, right?” Wrong. What usually takes 5 minutes via detailed, half-focused phone conversation can take all day using text messaging. But who cares? They are either texting guys or talking to other girls about guys. Regardless, everything these little bimbos are communicating is stupid and pointless. This is because nothing of value has ever been transmitted via text message.

“You’re pregnant.” Oh! Let me just text my husband.

“You have cancer and you have six months left to live.” Shit…I’d better shoot out a text so the family knows.

The ideal conversation I’d like to hear:

“Jenny, can you please stop talking with whoever about your rotten little pussy for long enough to pick out what you want to eat?” – “…what Mom? Oh…I see what you mean…”

Miley Cyrus Sexts The World
Miley Cyrus Sexts The World on Google Images

One will never hear that talk, because parenting notoriously never takes place under the umbrella of reason. Consistently, stupid parents raise stupid girls with unnatural under-bites. Big knees. Ratty-looking hair that has been treated with so many chemicals, not even lice can grow in it. Although at one time, some probably did.

These girls, having built a fantasy world around themselves in which their opinions matter to others, have exceedingly naive perceptions of the real world – albeit most of them have an expert handle on conception itself. “This is as easy as laying on your back,” said sophomore Kimberly Thomas. This enveloping bubble-wrap of kaleidoscopic anti-reality breeds in developing young women a viral and slowly-evolving case of “Soccer Mom Syndrome” (SMS) whose symptoms include:

  • Loud voices
  • sweeping sense of entitlement
  • unrealistic expectations
  • Miley Cyrus
  • Miley Cyrus
  • blind ignorance
  • unwarranted self-importance
  • stifling religious zealousness
  • Miley Cyrus
  • obesity
  • chronic attitude dysfunction
  • highly-visible mental retardation
  • must be unlocked at tier 3

Fortunately for the rest of us, texting, and sexting moreover, makes retarded women sheeplike in your ability to herd their enfeebled minds around like dumb beasts using simple mental constructs and preconditions that play off laziness and convenience. Your stupid daughter is going to be so easily fuckable throughout her 20s. She’ll be so embarrassingly easily to nail that they’ll be cutting in on Chinese whores, and those whores will come cut her tits off for open-sourcing on their action.

That’s wonderful. But there is a downside to all this. Witness, if you have a moment, the following four-minute sequence of events in which a girl gets exactly what she deserves while texting in a car, but tragically imposes helpless strangers to suffer infinitely the hand of her stupidity, as some women are known to do three or four times in one day, often while texting [Editor’s Note: WOW. anti-woman as hell, wtf is wrong with me]:

Notice the girl’s first instinct following the crash was not to use the phone she just killed innocents with to call for help. She didn’t even try to text Lassie. Oh and hey – did you see that she was about to text me and tell me her friend wants me?

This is not a PSA – it is accidental, happenstance documentary footage of a young girl’s stupidity in real time. Critics of the viewpoint that the girl is stupid and killed people by texting fail to address that the conversation was working its way into sexting. She was texting a guy. Named James. “I think it was very brave of her,” said Crazy Pat, a full-time Verizon technician who was glued to the situation as it unfolded before him on his computer monitor. “So why’d they stop?” he later asked.

Fortunately for you, there are two solutions:

1) Abort daughters

2) Should choice 1 fail, begin slapping them as babies and do not stop until the redness of their skin somehow sends the message that texting is stupid, annoying, lame and pathetic. Should work.

More on this as we establish a live one-way video uplink with AIM user jo_baby_369.

Growing pains?

Suicide is becoming a widely accepted solution to the problems facing America. If you or someone you know is threatening suicide, do your part as a friend. Encourage him/her to do the right thing. And pull the trigger, wussy.

THIS MESSAGE IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.

CIGARETTE ASH FOUND IN LOCAL DUDE’S BEER

RICHMOND, VA– A local dude became noticeably disgusted after taking a sip of beer that had been used as an ashtray. The Elf Wax Times has just received new footage of the incident. In the video, a young man can be seen displaying caveman-like characteristics before consuming a Pabst Blue Ribbon. After a rather large gulp, he is seen dry heaving and stating that “someone ashed in this.” Please note that viewer discretion is not advised whatsoever. 

While there is no evidence leading to any suspects, sources close to the victim all concur that it was most likely the same guy operating the camera in the video who indeed ashed in the beer. No charges have been pressed yet but Richmond OverEnforce officers have stated that someone should really “sue the [depletive exleted] pants off” of whomever is to blame.

Though the can of beer was obviously contaminated, that didn’t seem to stop the subject from consuming more beer and enjoying the newest Elf Wax track, “VIETNAMetrics (space party!)”, off the new calbum that hits stores never.