Categories
Editorial

Frank Mason to leave chronicle.su forever

Why? Why is chronicle.su this hateful black enterprise I can not even stand to look at anymore?
Why do I no longer like this place?

Seriously, I’m about to pull a Geo because there are just too many bad vibes around this hate hole. I’m sending up a distress flare because I don’t know what else to do anymore. I’m no longer funny, this website isn’t funny, we are just hurtful abusive people with no respect for dead children or their grieving families.

I used to think chronicle.su was a bottomless source of ironic lies but now I’m not so confident in that assertion. Sure, there are 35 people staring at DEAD LIL WAYNE at any given moment, but it’s not like they can read anyway or else they would already know he is “alive,” whatever you take that to mean . . . But I’m not talking about just trying to make the a sound for apple and pronouncing cat, but really reading – and comprehending – the world around them.

Literate individuals don’t fall for LIL WAYNE DEAD and park on the webpage all day, and spread it around without checking other sources. Okay, dying AIDS-infected Africans were crossing the Sahara to register their grievances at the metropolis internet cafe. So what chronicle.su has proven to me in the last nine months is worse than anything I could have ever imagined without performing this experiment for myself:

1. There are more stupid people than statistics could possibly account for, and yet I’m astounded by the numbers.

Akon DEAD Lil Wayne DEAD Lady GaGa BRAIN CANCER ALL DEAD
It took “readers” an average of almost three minutes to determine how their favorite rapper actually died of AIDS before anyone knew he contracted it.

2. I am a toxin. If there’s anybody I can think of besides our last fourteen presidents who deserves brain cancer, it’s Lady GaGa for making anti-intellectualism appear sexy and appealing, and yet I am the one who made people cry announcing she has brain cancer.

But since I did it anyway, check out this video of the some little girl freaking out about it or something. Or don’t. Just go the fuck away now.

Lady Gaga! She wants to be like you when she grows up. A vapid, expressionless sellout! GOOD WORK, WHORE.

Nothing is funny anymore. Nothing is surprising. Anonymous is dead, and even that is kind of sad because it was so funny to watch internet losers migrate the handle from DDoSing Hal Turner, to blocking up a fake swimming pool in Habbo Hotel, to Scientology, and all the way back around again to DDoSing bank websites before finally getting arrested en masse. Yummy yummy honeypotty! Now we’re wasted, now we’re screwed. Now I’m bored. So what the fuck is next?

ANSWER: I don’t give a shit. I am going to lay it all right out for you. I know by now we have some fans (people who hate us are “fans,” too, by the way) and for some reason you keep coming back here to see if I replied to your meaningless comments, to see if your shitty, grammatical atrocities are making a difference on my own fake opinion (they don’t), because you might feel that you’ve somehow caused a tree to fall in the forest – and for everybody who heard it, no one paid attention. Not even me. Especially not me. And I am writing now to inform you– no, to ask of you– no . . . I am just writing. And that’s how it’s going to be. That’s what I’m laying down.

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I’m a cunt sliver . . .

Frank Mason

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If you ever once came to this website and thought I was writing to you, for you, about you – even if I was – I don’t want your feedback. I’m a cunt sliver away from turning off all the comments, globally, and firing material into your blank eyes with NO POSSIBLE RECOURSE. ZERO. Because I’m tired of you. I’m tired of the pressure. I’m tired of this broken, hateful website, and I’m tired, most of all, of hating this place I (ironically) designed to be hated.

I’m DONE with it. I’m done with you festering, stinking maggots who sallow each article. I’m done with your cute usernames, multiple IP addresses, multiple fucking usernames, and every combination inbetween. I’m done with your tired little surmises. I’m done with your discussions. I’m done with the chat room, the radio show, and most importantly – in case I haven’t yet made it clear – I’m done with you.

FUCK THE READERSHIP. ALL OF YOU. MY FAMILY, MY FRIENDS, MY LANDLORD – ESPECIALLY MY LANDLORD, HE IS A THIEVING CHARLATAN like the readers. I DON’T GIVE A FLYING HAT TRICK WHO YOU ARE. I AM FINISHED WITH ALL OF IT, AND THIS WEBSITE.

Stay tuned for my absence.

Frank Mason is gone.

Categories
Local Special Interest

Chronicle.su succumbs to adoring masses, foreclosure

In the face of foreclosure, Chronicle staff research carnal knowledge from deep within a mortgaged volcano base.
In the face of foreclosure, Chronicle staff research carnal knowledge from deep within a mortgaged volcano base.

Chronicle HQ, Bolivia–
Chronicle.su, or The Elf Wax Phoenix which arose from the burning flames of a better website, is celebrating Chronicle Day, the journal’s Holy Day of Praise. Dubbed C-Day, the annual holiday is a special time when throngs of teenage women thrust themselves into the iron gates of Lebal Drocer, Inc.

As salmon casting their bodies upstream, tides of fresh young women offer themselves in sacrifice to Veritus, God of Truth, eagerly vying to feed his demands. Seeking a cut of the criminal activity – and Bolivian cocaine – thought to be horded deep within Chronicle Mountain, many of these women have attained super bitch powers granting them the means to cast off their skin as dead ringers, and hunt us in the 4th dimension.

At sundown, a robed figure approached the electronic security gate, allowing a harem of six young women inside, most of them legal. Fifteen minutes later, the girls are presumed missing.

Found inside are thought to be all manner of freedoms, some of them American.

“I think they’re holed up in there doing drugs,” said Chief Daniel Spoktane of an unnamed paramilitary force, whose agents are stretched thin around the 14 kilometer electrified perimeter of Chronicle.su. “And I think there’s a pretty good chance they could be having fun.”

Chief Spoktane indicated plans to subjugate the website by individually arresting each member of chronicle.su one by one.

“We aren’t sure what they owe on a volcanic base like this,” he said, “but the banks have already foreclosed on it so we’re here to bag ’em up and ship ’em out.”

Most official chronicle.su business takes place inside a fortified safe room through which authorities will have to cut open, like a bunch of n00b construction workers; that is, assuming spies don’t sap our sentries, in which case we’re fucked.

CHRONICLE.SU – TASTE THE LIGHTNING

At chronicle.su we take our jobs seriously.
One glance at our track record will tell you we mean business.

Fucking criminal-ass bitches, and telling you the truth.”

Categories
новости

Chronicle editors to endure “hell gauntlet” of terrible writing

Hiring new writers

Payment: glory

Write for usHere at chronicle.su we don’t take credit for our work. It’s just a power thing. When hundreds of thousands of people – or millions – from all over the world believe something simply because you wrote it at chronicle.su, dear God, you’ll never get over it.

If you can write anywhere above an 11th grade level, and I mean a “smart” 11th grade writing level, then we’re offering you a cut of that power, and credit for your work if you desire (but I wouldn’t advise it). For how long? We’re not sure. Something like a month in your own guaranteed spot and potentially longer if you’re good, even indefinitely. Also you’ll receive a free chronicle.su t-shirt, made in a real-life sweatshop as seen on TV.

It does not matter what you write, because if it’s good you’ll know it and so will we. Don’t be afraid of writing tripe, even though we will ridicule it. Tripe is useful here at chronicle.su and you may have a talent you didn’t even know you had; ideally, a talent for shit material that is so weird it’s funny. Write anything.

One thing I want to emphasize is we truly do not give a fuck.

Submit your reports below. Copy and paste it or whatever. Format can suck and that’s okay. If you wish to include pictures, screw that form and email the whole thing to [email protected]

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