Elves… what a bunch of poncy, stuck up, self-absorbed assholes. I mean, all they ever do is lounge around in their fancy schmancy, super exclusive tree forts (“Eldar Only! No Naugrim or Edain”), drinking all the kings wine, rambling on and on in that super annoying and convoluted way about fell deeds this, dire portents that, orcs and goblins fucking shit up with impunity, dark lords popping up after an age or two for a quick look-see…

Oh, and did I mention all the singing and lamenting piled up on top of the farting around and boozing? That’s a major part of the rambling, the singing and lamenting. Good grief, what a bunch of lazy, pretentious midgets. They’re the emo-hipsters of Middle-earth, those bastard-ass elves. Whiny and exclusive.

Supposedly you’re to be accorded an honor or whatever if you actually get to hear one of these barstages so much as squeak out a warbling fart. I don’t know how that rumor got started, but I’m here to dispel it. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY–except maybe for filthy hobbitses and old wandering pipe weed addicts–would ever willingly subject themselves to the experience of having to listen to the sound of a bunch of drunken, overgrown wood nymphs ululating about dead relatives and lost doo-dads and the good old days when Ainur were Ainur, and Maiar were Maiar.

Simply being immortal wasn’t good enough for you? You gotta have the drama, too?

So unless you’re a filthy hobbit or a stinky old homeless guy, well. Whatev, I guess. Who cares?

Say, here’s a suggestion for a brand new epic starring those everlasting butt munchers: How about instead of guilt-tripping a couple of stupid hobbits into committing suicide, what if everybody just marched over there to the Woodland Realm and told all of those dick-snacking a-holes that Middle-earth is fed up with their nonstop bullshit, and that they can shove their Council of Elrond right up their skinny, tight little buttholes?

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And while we’re at it, that Gondor and Rohan especially are sick and tired of putting them up in Lothlorien and keeping them in their cups for the past 2,000 years, just so they can lie around and polish their own reflections while the rest of the world faces a never-ending onslaught of orcs, goblins, necromancers, balrogs, cave trolls, ring wraiths, wargs, giant elephants, pirates, Saudi Arabians, and one big ass, disembodied, all seeing and on-fire Eyeball from Hell. And that EVERYBODY, from Eriador to Far Harad, is finally calling bullshit on those worthless, free-loading winos because it’s about time that they hauled their lazy, sculpted, angular Elven butts out of their hammocks and into the fight, dammit, because Lothlorien ain’t gonna just leisure up and nice dream the orcs to death, you know. What a bunch of dickheads!

Oh, and about those naugrim…

“Just to hell with the dwarves, you know? Fuck those guys. They’re not even real children of Iluvitar, they’re just puppets of Aule, fashioned out of rocks for his own amusement because the world needs a few unholy abominations now and then to keep things interesting. Know what I’m sayin’? Why, dwarves are, at best, simply a feral pack of dirty, silicon based pseudo-life forms that never should have been made. Fuck ’em, feed ’em fish heads. That’s what I say.”
-Feanor

Geez, guys, that’s just shitty!

Everybody in Middle-earth is sick to death of hearing about how starlight is the greatest light of all. Hey, assholes! You wanna know what’s better than starlight? A CANDLE, that’s what! You can’t read shit by starlight. So please shut the fuck up with the starlight already. We get it, you’re creatures of the night with tortured souls, blah blah blah, fuck you. Guess what? You’re not vampires, you’re a bunch of retarded elves!

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Simply being immortal wasn’t good enough for you? You gotta have the drama, too? Good grief, SHUT UP!

Here’s an idea to keep those pasty-faced, vowel-howling slackers busy when they’re bitching and moaning about the family tree. Why don’t you all get to work forging some Narsils, huh? How about that, instead of waiting 2,000 years for the dark lord to come back and then half-assing a broken one back together and giving it a new name, as if that makes everything okay again? Idiots! Just think how many Narsils they could have forged in 2,000 years. What a bunch of loafers.

See, elves are the luckiest bastards in Middle-earth and all they’ve ever done, except for rarely getting their shit together and kicking a bunch of orcs right in the ass, is invent a bunch of drama to fill up their own moody immortal forevers with self-pity and pleas for sympathy, because… oh no! Being immortal is sooooo HARD.

Take Thranduil, for example. What an asshole! Here’s this hundred gazillion-year-old elf king who doesn’t look a day past 20, and he’s spent the last 3,000 years bitching and moaning about his dead wife that got barbecued by a firedrake. Good grief, Thranduil! Take a lesson from the mortals and move on! You’re a jackass, and everybody knows it!

Here’s what I say: Pack up the whole lot of ’em and ship ’em off to Numenor in a leaky bathysphere.

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