February 26, 2023
The Week’s Most Bent, Spent, and Given-Up-For-Lent Headlines
BROWNIE V. BOARD OF EDUCATION
The final week of Black History Month is upon us, and peanut butter inventors are going from smooth to crunchy in their forever-war against fast food.
Last Wednesday, two women were shot in a drive-by at a Louisiana Fried Chicken in South-Central L.A. As the sound of fingers bein’ licked was replaced by empty chambers bein’ clicked, the shooters sped off into the night. Their names are unknown, but as this was a South-Central fried chicken joint, it’s not hard to guess their race.
That same night, a McDonald’s in Philly’s Hunting Park (40% black) had its windows shattered by a barrage of bullets. No injuries; police say the shooting was meant to send a message (“Ronald McDonald sleeps with the fillet-o-fishes”).
Happy Ashy Wednesday.
Thursday night, Dickensian-named gentleman Kenzel Bones was gunned down during a dispute at an Indianapolis fast food establishment. His 19-year-old killer, Curtis Williams, said the murder was a preventative measure to ensure that nobody else got them good fries.
RIP Kenzel; now shake dem skeleton, Bones.
Also Thursday, a black Gulfport Burger King employee decided that a car full of customers “was talkin’ too loud at him” in the drive-through (which might have something to do with the fact they were yelling into an intercom), so he shot them.
Who better than a traffic light inventor to stop drive-through traffic?
And finally, in Altamonte Springs, Florida, Amari Bente Hendricks, whose mugshot looks like a tranny’s Photoshopped dating profile, demanded that a McDonald’s drive-through cashier give her a free dessert because of poor service. When she wasn’t given her crêpe-arations, she waved a gun. The manager gave her a free cookie, but Hendricks nevertheless entered the establishment, beating employees.
The worst part of the story? By the time she got back to her car, her fries were cold.
IT’S FUNNY ‘CAUSE IT’S GRUE
You’ll likely go your entire lifetime without seeing a shopworn joke played out in reality.
You’ll never see “a priest and a rabbi walk into a bar,” unless it’s “Jews drink free” night and the entertainment is an altar boy-band.
You’re equally unlikely to see “a black guy, a white guy, and a Mexican find a magic lamp,” unless one of Don Lemon’s antiquing excursions with his husband and houseboy takes an unexpected turn.
But last week, a well-known joke literally happened in real-life.
In Norm Macdonald’s 1990 debut on the David Letterman show, he told a joke about a guy who’s ordered by the Devil to murder his family. So the dude complies, carving up his family and presenting the remains to Satan as requested.
“Devil, I did as you instructed. I killed my family; I chopped ‘em up and put ‘em in a duffel bag, as you commanded, oh lord host of the hoary netherworld.”
Then the Devil pulls off his mask, “it’s me, Bob!’”
And the guy goes, “Oh, Bob! Ya got me! Score one for you!”
That actually occurred. Last week in Alaska, 22-year-old Denali Brehmer (an unattractive thing who looks like Ellen Barkin mated with one of the Kipper Kids) pleaded guilty to murdering her best friend because her online boyfriend, a Kansas millionaire named Tyler, said he’d give her $9 million if she killed someone in his name.
Then after she did the job and sent pics, Tyler was like “it’s me, Bob!”
“Tyler” was actually a broke 21-year-old Indianan named Darin Schilmiller, who’d been playing the role of millionaire just to see if he could dupe an idiot into killing someone based on nothing but his fake dating profile.
Now Brehmer and Schilmiller are looking at life sentences.
Two morons walk into the Alaska bar.
Because they need an attorney.
Speaking of priests…
It’s no surprise that Los Angeles, the unofficial capital of Mexico, contains the largest Catholic diocese in the U.S. It’s also not surprising that the L.A. Archdiocese has been demanding open borders for decades. Even in the 1980s, when much of California was still reliably red, the L.A. Archdiocese pushed for “sanctuary” and “amnesty.” Indeed, the Archdiocese assisted in passing Reagan’s 1987 amnesty scam.
Because after all, if you can’t trust a bunch of celibates with no skin in the game regarding descendants to decide the demographic fate of your nation, who can you trust?
To be sure, flooding L.A. with illegals has been a boon for the Archdiocese, especially as the brown tsunami has displaced blacks and their AME and Baptist “choiches.”
Take your fancy-dancin’ speaking-in-tongues voodoo elsewhere, Pastor DeMarcoolius. This is Popetown.
Last week, L.A. Bishop David O’Connell, who served the church for 45 years, learned a hard lesson about the demographic change he helped bring about. Born in Ireland 69 years ago, the pious O’Connell fled the Emerald Isle because there were too many white folks for his liking. And during his lengthy career as an L.A. priest, he devoted himself to browning the place up.
But last week he got into an argument over money with his handyman, Carlos Medina.
And Medina dealt with the parsimonious prelate cartel-style, giving O’Connell a life annulment in accordance with cannon law via papal guncio that turned the bishop into a hole-y sí.
RIP Father Ded.
In sending his condolences, Pope Francis remarked, “even with Medina in jail, thanks to our efforts, the people of L.A. have plenty of other cheap handymen to call!”
According to a rash of tweets from The Onion, there’s a “genocide” going on, an “annihilation” of a people.
But which people? Blacks? Jews? Midgets?
Nope – trannies (the word “rash” should’ve tipped you off; trannies and rashes just kinda go together).
Yes, trannies are being genocided. But it’s the damnedest kind of genocide. One in which the “victims” can do anything they want to their oppressors, while their oppressors are forbidden from fighting back.
A genocide in which the victims pay to be sliced into pieces by mad doctors; a genocide in which kindertransport has been shortened to “kindertrans.”
In this week’s genocide roundup:
“Daralyn” Madden, a tranny serving a life sentence for double-murder, confessed to the 1990 killing of gay porn star Billy London. Madden, a dude who now identifies as a “Jewish woman,” won’t be tried for the crime by L.A. DA George Gascón. With trannies being wiped out in the genocide, why bring more pain to that community?
In Mississippi, a tranny named “Lily Mestemacher,” who looks like Jack Black with blonde hair and rosacea, was arrested for plotting to blow up a town’s schools. The ABC affiliate reported on the case with stunning and brave verbiage: “A mugshot of Mestemacher shows that she has a beard and dyed-blonde hair with dark roots.”
“Mestemacher” is German for “I made myself into an unholy mess.”
Finally, in a real-life tranny version of the 1992 hit song “Detachable Penis,” Canadian teacher “Kayla” Lemieux, a shemale who wears exaggerated, anime-style Z-cup breasts to school, was photographed going about his daily life without the pornographic prosthetics. He just puts them on to frighten toddlers. The local school board told the press that it supports “her” choice to traumatize kids.
May we all be favored with such a tolerant genocide.
Remember CleanFlix? Unless you’re Dennis Prager, probably not. CleanFlix was the Utah-based “family values” company that rented popular films that had been edited to remove the sex and violence.
Their version of Goodfellas was two minutes long. It opened with Ray Liotta saying “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be” cut to Joe Pesci saying “a clown” cut to Spider dancing a jig to circus music cut to Billy Batts saying “shine” then De Niro saying “whacked” then back to Liotta “and now it’s all over.” Cue Layla.
To no one’s surprise, in 2002 the Director’s Guild sued CleanFlix, claiming that the edits violated the artistic integrity of the people who made the films. Even long-dead directors, the Guild argued, have a right to have their work kept intact.
What a difference 20 years makes. Last week, publishing company Puffin announced that it has rewritten the works of Roald Dahl to remove anything that might be offensive to woke sensibilities. This goes beyond removing epithets (Huck Finn: “Here’s m’best pal, Descendant of Kings Jim”). Puffin has completely rewritten entire passages to remove “fatphobia” and “transphobia.”
In James and the Giant Peach, for example,
Aunt Sponge was terrifically fat,
And tremendously flabby at that.
Aunt Spiker was thin as a wire,
And dry as a bone, only drier.
Aunt Sponge was a nasty old brute,
And deserved to be squashed by the fruit.
Aunt Spiker was much of the same,
And deserves half of the blame.
So, a total rewrite.
In Matilda, all references to “white” have been replaced with “pale,” because wokeness totally isn’t about erasing an entire race. In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the Oompa-Loompas are intersex. And a passage in The Witches about witches being “bald beneath their wigs” carries a disclaimer that bald men with wigs are women, too.
Those examples are 100% not satire.
Puffin partnered with a diversity grift syndicate called “Inclusive Minds,” which promises – for a hefty fee – to reedit classic texts so Joy Behar isn’t displeased.
“A wise man believes only in lies, trusts only in the absurd, and learns to expect the unexpected.” This was the opening narration of the 1970s/1980s TV series Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected.
Nice sentiment, Roald. Except these days, the lies and absurdities are the expected.
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