Categories
News

Murdoch Sets Sights on Internet Chronicle

Rupert Murdoch looking evil as fuckAs chronicle.su strikes up lucrative new advertising deals, rumors suggest Australian media mogul Rupert Murdoch is closing a deal of his own with Lebal Drocer, Inc.

Business analysts predict the transaction could transfer majority control of The Internet Chronicle to News Corp, Murdoch’s multi-national, benevolent corporation.

Longtime Chronicle editors Kilgoar Trout and Hatesec reportedly met with Murdoch on his yacht Monday morning off the coast of Tripoli. The editors are in Libya on an embed with the US Defense Department to document the extraordinary success of the 2011 NATO humanitarian bombing campaign.

After stepping off the yacht, Kilgoar and Hatesec apparently held an impromptu press conference for a bunch of fishermen and dock workers. Speaking in broken Arabic, Hatesec reportedly told the workers that they “would not be taking questions at this time” and to “call our lawyers, you fucking mutts.” The fishermen merely shrugged and sailed off into the Mediterranean.

Rupert Murdoch swoons Kilgoar (left) and Hatesec (right)

Empires are vast. This move fits in with Murdoch’s recent consolidation of influential media outlets across the political spectrum. After acquiring VICE, Murdoch set his sights towards other alternative news outlets, in search of the next big thing to contaminate.

An aide to Murdoch, speaking on condition of anonymity, said he came across the Chronicle one night while searching for kiddie porn on the Deep Web. After perusing its contents, his hard-on became stiff as a cricket bat, especially after reading Kilgoar’s Pulitzer Prize winning report on Mel Gibson’s joining Rage Against the Machine.

“Rupert likes honest reporting. He is committed to integrity and truth telling in the newsroom,” the aide said. “So naturally he wants to acquire the Chronicle.”

While Murdoch’s influence is often subtle and benign on his media outlets, it is possible that he will censor the editorial duo at the Chronicle, both of whom are hardline Democrats.

Dr. Angstrum H. Trubidur, a professor of media studies on sabbatical in Benghazi, said of the move, “Hell, them boys Kilgoar and Hatesec? Yeah they don’t know who they’re dealing with. What, they think they are still gonna be able to print hard news? Le’me tell ye, they’ll be going the VICE route before long: glittery, vapid, meaningless reporting while the truth is left on the cutting room floor.”

In a company-wide e-mail sent by Kilgoar right before publication, he assured the staff that their wages and benefits would not be affected if any merger were to happen. Reporters at the Chronicle were relieved as, unlike VICE, the Chronicle is known for paying livable wages to its staff and showering benefits upon even the most meager of its contributors.

When asked to comment on the proposed merger, Hatesec replied via e-mail, “Go fuck yourself.”

Categories
Politics Reviews

SEXISM WEEKLY

Michelle Bachmann - Newsweek's Queen of RageThe Lesbians are pissed:

Washington — Newsweek magazine published an article Tuesday featuring on the cover well known Presidential candidate hopeful Michele Bachmann, enraged wife of homosexual Marcus Bachmann.

What is also well known about Bachmann is that bitch is crazy, but Newsweek was able to capture the crazy like none before them.

Her eyes pierce the atheist inside of us all, even the Christians, as they seem to embody Beelzubub himself. Sounds like the Chronicle just trying to be funny right? Look for yourself, and leave a comment as to what you think the stare means. [Be sure to tell them the Chronicle.SU sent you unthinking drones to express our enlightened opinion!]

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the eyes are not her only disturbing feature. Her main selling point is the unsettling smile that appears to have been shot onto her face by a high-powered shotgun and seems to say, “I’m smiling because I need your votes, love me America!” To ice this cake of awesomeness and further troll Republican candidate hopeful Bachmann, Newsweek titled her article “Queen of  Rage.”

Some critics, including the prestigious and well-respected National Organization for Women refer to the picture as sexist – saying it’s either too feminine, or not feminine enough. Now I can’t quite put my finger on what the lesbian club means by “sexist.” It’s a headshot for Christ’s science’s sake. According to the lesbians, however, they used a complicated scientific procedure to assure accuracy simple test to draw such a rash conclusion: ‘would they do the same to a man?’

Terry O’neil, President of the Lesbians and overly loud spokeswoman asked, “Who has ever called a man the king of rage?” Good question, right? Wrong. Calling a man King of anything is not only true, but threatens to boost his ego to Kanye West proportions. Yo Neil, Ima let you finish but your argument is busted.

O’neil continued – for some reason – adding, “The ‘Queen of Rage’ is something you apply to wrestlers or someone who is crazy…” Well Miss O’neil, Michele Bachmann is crazy, and a wrestler at that. Her husband is crazy as well. Fabulously crazy. Anything else, sugartits? Of course! Women love to talk.

The lesbian just kept on bitching. “Good women will not run for office if Newsweek magazine can do this to such a prominent politician and get away with it,” she complained. Ah, the world may end if no women run for office, you have a point. Without women, our political system would get nothing accomplished.

Important figureheads would have nobody to file their paperwork, no one to scream at or belittle in the presence of foreign dignitaries – and without immediate relief in the form of blowjobs, who knows what ill fate might possibly befall this great nation?

Other conversative critics, such as FOX news and Andrew Brietbart, are blasting Newsweek for their supposedly negative portrayal of Presidential hopeful Michelle Bachmann, stating Newsweek has been bashing convervatives for years.
But Newsweek’s editors shot back in a press statement that read:

“You spend all this money and time making people famous first, before you even realize how fucking stupid they are. And then when the world begins to realize they’re diabolically insane, you blame the media for how they look. Mother of God. You should have seen her before we Photoshopped that cover page. Over half of our graphic design team is still out on sick leave. Also: seriously, lesbians?”

The un-doctored photograph of Michelle Bachmann
Actual, un-doctored photograph of Michelle Bachmann
Categories
Editorial

FUCK YOUR BLOG

Oh hi! Didn’t see you there. It’s difficult to see anything beyond The Elf Wax Times’ blinding white flurry of success, but we’ve got a finger on the pulse, and we hear you asking yourselves:

How can I get more people to read my [worthless] blog?


It’s a two-step process.

  1. Don’t be such a fucking douchebag. Seriously.
  2. And don’t start a blog.

A man blogs furiously

A long time ago, I was sitting online, my ass was numb, I was talking to my friend and I felt like I needed to break the uncomfortable silence, so I said “fuck people with blogs” to which my friend responded, “Nobody cares what they have to say.”

“Of course not,” I said. “That’s why they start blogs.”

And that’s the kind of fucking genius thought-dissemination that absorbs your blog’s readership before their sunken eyes even leave The Elf Wax Times: your puss-blog about how you don’t get any puss because you’re a giant, throbbing, cheese-flushing pussy is simply not entertaining, and everybody knows it already. Some blogs are so bad that it boosts our readership when people come here in need of healing.

  • Maybe it’s because you don’t have any insights beyond what simpletons uncover within an episode of Touched by an Angel.
  • Maybe you really don’t get any pussy and you try to post about it on the internet, but your half-assed approach to writing fails to capture even the wildest sexual imagination of, say, a pubescent child, who, possibly having never seen the internet before, couldn’t even pay twenty-five seconds of attention to your sex-laden drivel if it were printed off and handed to him to read as an alternative to restriction ad infinitum. In fact, for most folks, reading your blog is probably the equivalent to tasting some cold, stale piss.

But we’re talking about children here. All children are retarded, so they’re a bad example and I should not have used them; if for no other reason than people hate to be reminded of children. Check back next year for an apology.

Conversationally, The Elf Wax Times reporters, staff writers, editors, and our glorious masters are intellectually potent, and should we have a moment in our busy day of cooking up and serving the truth, we need to read thought-inspiring equivalencies of miniature Cat’s Cradles, should we get the chance to read anything at all (usually we have our assistants read to us as we masturbate to rare, uncensored Asian pornography).

So, to us, your Tucker Max attempt at a blog leaves a taste in the mouth of cold piss, too. That is to say, we see through your attempts to piss in our mouths from behind your dual-core PC and you fail to even keep it warm, much less hit your target, whatever that may be. Nobody knows what you’re trying to accomplish. You’re worthless and you suck.

Let’s briefly drop the pissing metaphor for a moment to talk more about why people hate blogs.

I hate blogs because they fail to properly inform. The Elf Wax Times takes an ambivalent stance on blogging, because it is not officially recognized as a medium of any form. A blog is simply something you accidentally click on Google because it contains the most keywords in the most relevant order contained in your search. Maybe you host a copyrighted picture nobody else has, and so people click it, save it, and never see your site again. In all likelihood, if you think people are visiting your blog because your “statistics say so,” look closer and you’ll see that accidental clicks account for at least 99% of your “readership,” and the only reason copyright lawyers have not yet contacted you is because no human is actually looking at your “site.” [Editor’s Note: blogs are not real websites.]

Nobody is looking at your perspective on the world. Nobody is sharing in your unique, subjective experience of reality in the abstract. Nobody is taking the journey as your narrative prose degrades into broken poetry with faulty rhyme scheme followed by ellipses and a question mark. Nobody feels the way you do, because your mechanism for emotion is so completely distorted that you actually believe people are reading your fucking blog. Normal people are not as self-important as blog “authors.” [Editor’s Note: blogs are not authored by anyone because authors write for a living, and bloggers do not.] Nobody will ever identify with a blogger.

Blogger

Now, I know I’m just farting into the wind here, so we’re going to have to break it down another level.

You write a blog, you have one. You maintain one, as you put on your resumé or MySpace page. No cute girls are reading it. Maybe there are two people who make comments on your posts from time to time, under the unspoken arrangement that you reciprocate. One’s a fat chick, the other’s your online friend who once agreed over AIM that the government sucks. You put a lot of time into your CSS code, your margins are perfect, the padding fucking fits and you feel good because you’ve got shit all figured out, so this doesn’t apply to you – right? Oh boy. How glad I am not to be you. How thankful I am not to be so misled, so delusional, so willing to lie to myself as you; so wrong as you are.

I’m talking to you, blogger. Blogosphere. The bastion of truth–shit, I mean, self-importance. Your thoughts are impure, your opinions invalid, broadly unsubstantiated by anything other than your George W. Bush “gut feeling” fueled by the insights of Neil Cavuto, or name-a-CNN-pundit.com.

Your vision is filtered through orange glasses or red, depending on where we’re at on the Terror Alert scale. At best, you’re the unseen, unheard afterthought of a political mechanism – lost to all keepers of history but your own web browser. At worst, you serve the political machine as they reference your voice among millions in the blogosphere, speaking for you, making determinations about you, without reading you, or knowing you, or seeing you, or even consciously being aware that someone like you might actually exist.

And we here at The Elf Wax Times for once share their anti-sentiment. So without further ado, fuck you and your little blog, too.