Hi, I’m Jim Ficks and this is Wal-Mart. At Wal-Mart, we cheer every morning, working ourselves up into a ravenous furor in the name of the great one and only, the provider, the destroyer – Wal-Mart of America. I’m Jim Ficks, and I have a job now. You Don’t. I’m Jim Ficks. My job is to rally employees working for $8 an hour, to rally together and “cheer” on our company name as audaciously as though they were speaking the unspeakable name of Yahweh himself.
Oh, HA HA. Don’t kid yourself! The Wal-Mart cheer not your typical high school cheer. At Wal-Mart, our morning cheers are actually the wailing song of abandoned hope, tinged with self-hatred the likes of which you never knew existed. That is, until our corporate overseer stated, in a company newsletter, that every morning from now until the end of human civilization will begin with a light-hearted climaxing chant, grow to a dull pulsing roar, and finally explode into a fireball of frenzied rage. Sweet, profit-maximizing rage. Don’t just watch – but focus – as the bald one they call “Joey” bristles with tension before snapping free from his hate-filled fervor, ready to seize the day like the throat of his enemy. Ready for blood, ready to stock shelves.
YOU LIKE THAT, YEAH YOU LIKE THAT DON’T YOU WAL-MART
WE HATE NIGGERS FOR YOU, WAL-MART. WE HATE OURSELVES. WE JUST WANNA COME IN THERE AND BUY YOU $2.15 CORN DOGS WAL-MART. WE NEED YOUR NITRATES IN OUR TOXIC BODIES TO MAINTAIN EQUILIBRIUM, WAL-MART, LEST WE TIP THE BALANCE OF HATE IN THE DEVIL’S HONOR. DACTARAI!!!!! FOR YOUR LOVE, MINE PRINCE OF PURITY. FOR YOUR PROFIT! Erodium Purus Nosferatu! MY PALE, FLUSHED FACE WAL-MART IT BURNS WITH SODIUM IODIDE, WAL-MART. WWWWWAAAAAAAAALLLL-MAAAARRRRRRRT!
Cuthbert, Ga.–All hell’s broke loose on the political front, the power lines are down, and the water’s shut off, forcing you to drink your own dank-smelling piss. The sound of Russki bombers dribblin on the horizon ignites terror in the eyes of your pitiful-ass family members, who cower unarmed beneath the dining room table. What do you do?
Freedom enthusiast Larry Cecil has the answer.
“Don’t just sit around waiting for mercy,” Cecil told the Chronicle. “Rollback the cost of freedom – and the Russians – at a Wal-Mart near you!”
Larry Cecil, who once blindly accepted whatever conditions life handed him, now takes matters into his own hands. “I used to pray to Jesus. But now I prey on the wicked,” he said, examining the horizon through a scoped rifle.
Cecil encourages concerned patriots who fear the oncoming breach of freedoms by leaked cables and Julian ASSange to “have faith” in a weapons cache and homemade napalm. Lastly, he recommends Chinese-made ammunition for its unusually high lead content.
This message is brought to you by Lebal Drocer, Incorporated.
Singularity, Everywhere–The world’s money has coalesced into a singularity following an investigation into Goldman Sext’s Insecurities. The adage “Time equals money” has taken on a whole new meaning, bringing time to a stop as Americans wait an eternity for the next Big Red Communist Bang to redistribute all wealth throughout the new universe, which at once extended no farther than our farthest, most expensive satellite.
“Americans have come to expect less out of their universe,” explained U.C. Berkley astrophysicist Herman Coats. “Nowadays, the Universe means everything between home, work and Wal-Mart, and people are already overwhelmed.” Results of a recent Virginia poll indicate citizens welcomed the crushing void of a black hole. Many were counting on it.
Many like Goldman Sext CEOs and other company leaders, who are making shitloads of money for charity and immortality research. Positive effects are expected to trickle down to all their mortal customers, they said. Elf Wax Times does not question the word of high-level corporate executives and reports their explanations as unerring truth.
In fact, we here at The Elf Wax Times would go so far as to defend at least one billion dollars of the fraud in question. There is a very simple explanation for where that money went. If CEOs aren’t getting paid exponentially more than you, me, their employees, and the space program, then how are they supposed to work comfortably and efficiently? CEOs in a position of privilege simply deserve more than you and me, and it’s their obligation as Americans to take it without asking permission or reporting it missing. Would you be happier to find out it went toward the Afghan war?
Yeah. So would we.
Some guy on acid did provide this mathematical description of the Goldman Sachs crisis:
n-security divided by f(x)=fuck your shit, I’m getting paid
This has been brought to you by Lebal Drocer, Incorporated.
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.”
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.
Internet. You give me a lot of problems. But mostly you just give me solutions. Actually more problems.
Number one, I do not know what to masturbate to – you are just so full of surprises!
Number two, I can’t trust Wikipedia. Anybody can edit that shit! Come on now! That’s got to make it the worst source of reliable information since Pepsi’s homepage.
Number three, Google. WHAT THE FUCK YOU CONTROL INFORMATION, WAY TO GO. You are the Wal-Mart of the Internet.
Number four, Net Neutrality. You are the single most stressful term about the internet. I’d die protecting you, if I didn’t know you’d still be sold right out from underneath us, destroying freedom of speech and free enterprise as we know it.
Number five, you’ve changed the news. Like porn, you used to have to pay for the news in some way – even if it was just an advertisement on TV. Now, you don’t have to pay for shit. Way to go, internet. I won’t have a job after I graduate. But what the fuck do you care? With each keystroke, I’ve done a little more work for you – for free.
Number six – I just heard Barack Obama can take control over the entire internet in the event of a “data emergency” – Obama can privately Google himself in the dark now. He will start a blog about something that matters a lot to him. Or just look at porn. Note: this came from FOX News, so it is probably true. I did zero fact-checking for your convenience.
Number seven – you’ve dissolved friendships using fakebook and myplace. I have to commend you for this. I thought I’d never be able to keep an endless supply-chain of excuses going not to hang out with “friends.” Now that we’re always friends no matter what I do, I can ignore them forever and die alone! Just the way you told me I always wanted it.
Number eight – How in the Lord Fuck am I supposed to turn my back on you knowing you hold the entire wealth of collective human knowledge? I once stayed on the internet for four days, tripping on morning glory seeds and reading desperately about String Theory, believing I was looking God in the eye. Now, I can only live out my day-to-day “sunshine” life knowing that I’ve turned my back on the source of all things known so I can make pizzas, rent movies, and park old rich fuckers’ cars. I’m sorry Internet. I didn’t intend on having a real life. I promise to quit a job for you one day.
Number nine – youtube – what’s with the copyright bullshit? How long are we going to pretend like China doesn’t get away with piracy 1,000 times per second?
Which leads me to number ten: BIT TORRENTS!!! SWEET JESUS I BET THE SUPREME COURT WISHES THEY NEVER FUCKED WITH NAPSTER! TV shows, entire albums, fuck – whole discographies – of any band, whether they suck or not, are there for the taking. If Bit Torrent was a store at the mall, a mall that also had a GameStop, Best Buy, SunCoast Videos (or whatever that video store is called), and an adult book store, the Bit Torrent would act as a black hole and just fucking consume those wussy “capitalist ventures” in the name of EVERYBODY TAKE THIS SHIT BECAUSE IT’S FREE AND ONLY CHUMPS AND DUDES IN BANDS PAY FOR IT. “Support live music” is totally my thing. But I’ll download your album, if you just promise to come back to my city next year so I can pay to meet you. I don’t buy CDs. That’s for people who still watch MTV. Although I did buy that sweet stereoscopic Tool album. Great driving music! The whole album is listenable.
And finally The Elf Wax Times – it’s got to be the best thing since marijuana, our top keyword. This place means more to me than season 22 of the Simpsons. Funnier than Nickelodeon’s “Doug.” Twice as entertaining as a new Law and Order. More culturally relevant than Monica Lewinski. More up to date than Weenus, Incorporated. Better than you. And huffing paint since 2008. FUCK YEAH GOLD BLING BLING – TASTE HEAVEN!
So fuck you, Internet. I have to be awake in three hours. Plus I’m drunk. Fuck you internet. You don’t understand me. Your whole operation is fuck you internet! I will kill you. After Hussein Backara shuts you down, I will choke you to death in a field. Stupid internet.
Google Elf Wax. Click “fuck you.” It’s gotta be an option there somewhere.
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.
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.”
What I’m about to tell you is the story of the North American
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…”
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:
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:
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 meand 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.
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.
Virginia, U.S.–The local human plantation of Roanoke, Virginia is at the brink of destruction.
There is a major reason to believe, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that waves of mountain lions did descend on the people of the Roanoke Valley in the great retaking of the cherished homeland. Sources say it is the largest incident on record of the overtaking of an American city by the surrounding wildlife.
A peace treaty is being worked out with the animals, but no inside sources have yet indicated any premonitions around the terms of the agreement. Anonymous sources report that Roanoke mayor David Bowers, best known for having sold the town to Wal-Mart out of gambling desperation, denies any involvement with unpaid, lion-related debts, saying, “I wouldn’t make a wager with those penniless rubes. They only want your flesh anyway.”
Field analysts say the animals have taken to gathering in the Roanoke Civic Center where humans are hunted for entertainment following a sold-out Toby Keith concert.
Jim Fixx, our reporter on the scene, identified twelve positive kills before he himself was eaten alive by a ravenous pair of adult hill cats.
Town spokesperson Lightfoot Steifewagen recalled a feeling of terror, when on her evening run to Wally World was pulled over by lions and questioned. “They wanted to know where I was going,” she said. “They asked where I came from. Like it’s any of their business!”
Attorneys for the swarm of mountain lions have stated the occupation is officially a peace-keeping mission intended only to affect a very precise few people who took part in the alleged attempt to overthrow the laws of nature. But he added, “No one is directly at fault for the decline of the mountain lion’s land, but because all have systematically taken part in the mass rape of it as every nut and every cog is needed to turn the gears of Humanity – the Great Fucking Machine.” It is a principal moment in interspecial relations in which a beast, with an attorney’s help has leveled the playing field with man.
So far, the verdict is split. If no verdict is reached after a second round of hearings Tuesday, the Roanoke County vs. Mob of lions trial could move on to the Virginia Supreme Court, where experts say the level of clusterfuck is expected to be a critical mass situation. Commander Von Hertenweiner, lead gang-rapist of the lion’s crack legal team on the case, said, “I foresee a dimension of politics so unexplored that NASA scientists and mathematicians have been placed on temporary standby, awaiting transmissions from the top.” Judge Joe Mathis, who is expected to rule on the case, said “Next week’s hearings should go as smoothly as an abortion case, or a sudden lion attack.” He concluded, “If things get too hairy, I will back someone into a corner and hold them in contempt of court after they lash out at me with rage.” The press room then let out a chuckle, quit their jobs, and went home to ‘blog about it.
In other news, rising again to defend the Glory of Mankind, as he has done countless times before and forever will do into perpetuity, Winston Churchill had this to say:
Since the dawn of time, paranoid delusional people have been denied the opportunity to dodge reality and dive into the upward-spiraling colossus of a self-feeding reward system of worry. But now we can, with EvoCam.
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Now, wait for it. Did you hear that pop? That’s EvoCam inside your head, recording itself through your eyes as it records you. It even knows you just read this sentence! This is so you can be absolutely sure, without one per cent of a doubt, that it is indeed YOUR EvoCam recording you, and not that of a strange elite hacker for delta Geplin 7 beaming images of you and your forbidden loved ones and your secrets back to his porndorm at your local engineering university.