March 31, 2024

Source: Bigstock

The Week’s Funniest, Runniest, and Easter Bunniest Headlines

In early-1900s West L.A., the WASP elites spent their leisure time at the Rancho Country Club golf course. Whites only, except for the Japanese gardeners who routinely blew themselves up to take out gopher nests (today’s Mexicans draw the line at that).

In 1920 two prosperous Jews asked to join the club, but they were turned away by the snooty gentiles. “We don’t need your kind stealing balls and peddling them on the black market.”

“Oy, you do something one time und dey nevah forget.”

Furious, the rejected Jews bought the parcel of land directly across the street and started their own country club/golf course: Hillcrest. Jews only. And it was common for the two groups to heckle each other across Motor Ave.

“I say, kike, how can you swing with a proboscis that throws off your center of gravity?”

“Hey, goy, I hope you take a ball to your schmuckle and a club up your pupik.”

And then (this is true) the gentile club got severely audited by the IRS and closed.

Hebe who laughs last…

Rancho’s been a public course since the 1950s, while Hillcrest is still Jewish.

Though maybe not for long. Hillcrest’s being sued by billionaire Jew Matthew Winnick, who claims he was denied membership because his “wife has Hispanic heritage.” Of course, his wife’s a beautiful white blonde (he’s a Jewish billionaire; what else would she be?), so his suit appears questionable. Also, one of Hillcrest’s longtime members is “second gentleman” Doug Emhoff. And if Hillcrest allows Emhoff’s cackling black/Indian/hyena hybrid of a wife, it’s hard to believe they’d reject Winnick’s.

Maybe Winnick can try the IRS/audit route for his vengeance. It would be “just deserts” for the folks who sand-trapped their competitors a century ago.

The “purple gorilla” campfire tale is a Boy Scout favorite (it’s even included in their manual). A traveler seeks refuge in a creepy mansion. The owner tells him he can stay the night, but with one rule: Down the hall there’s a purple gorilla. Never touch the purple gorilla.

“Never think American elections can’t get more retarded. They always can.”

Never touch the purple gorilla.

As the night wears on, the man becomes increasingly curious. What happens when you touch the purple gorilla? Finally, his curiosity gets the better of him. He walks down the hall and there, indeed, is a giant purple gorilla in a cage. Cautiously, the man reaches out and lightly taps the gorilla on the shoulder. Enraged, the beast bends the bars as if they were straw. The man runs, but every door he closes, the gorilla smashes open. The man flees the mansion, the gorilla close behind. He climbs a fence; the gorilla shatters it with one punch. He tries to hide in a shack, the gorilla knocks it down. Finally, after hours of running, the man collapses, resigned to his fate as the beast bears down on him.

With its massive arms, the gorilla reaches out and taps the man on the shoulder. “Tag—you’re it!”

There’s nothing racial about the story, but leave it to today’s blacks to make it so.

Last week in St. Louis (aka The Kingdom of Blackmurdya), career criminal Laron Frazier had just committed an armed carjacking. Enjoying his stolen ride, Laron saw a MetroBus pass by.

And a Hispanic passenger looked at him.

Never look at Laron!

Frazier proceeded to relentlessly chase the bus, block after block, never letting up. But every time he’d get close to intercepting, traffic would interfere. After a dozen miles, Frazier finally overtook the bus and blocked it with “his” car. Then he stormed the bus, shooting wildly, killing the bean and a bystander.

Tag—you’re hit!

Police said Frazier proudly confessed that he had to give chase because “the victim looked at him the wrong way.”

A tale not for a Scout campfire, but an American dumpster fire.

If you’re walking through San Francisco and you complain about “squatters,” it’s assumed you’re referring to the schizo homeless and Third World detritus who, um, “squat” on the sidewalk to do their business. One cannot walk down a street in S.F. without seeing a “squatter” or two. In Silicon Valley this is used as an incentive to lure cheap Indian labor. Frisco and Calcutta have declared themselves “cistern cities” because the streets are equally flush with waste.

Governor Newsom’s reported to be considering a change to the state flag, removing the grizzly bear (which went extinct in California during the Great Depression after black hobos killed the bears for “looking at them the wrong way”) and replacing it with a pants-down Punjabi, the state’s old motto, “Eureka,” replaced with “You Reek-a.”

But now America’s diverse enrichers are bringing a new kind of “squatting” to the table. Leonel Moreno, a Venezuelan illegal and TikTok “influencer,” gives instructions for other illegals to take advantage of squatters’-rights laws. Moreno, who lives off welfare (which in Venezuela would classify him as “highly skilled”) provides step-by-step advice for seizing the homes of Americans.

Good thing Trump wants to keep TikTok ticking!

As cities across the nation deal with the current epidemic of squatting, perhaps it’s time to fight beans with beans. The U.S. has millions of Mexicans who blow thee leaves for poco dinero, and there’s nothing that ruins a morning more than an army of leaf blowers outside your bedroom window. Also, Mexicans hate Venezuelans. So, a frijole war—Mexicans nonstop blowing leaves outside squatted houses until the chavs hu-GO home to their fetid nation.

Maybe California’s new flag should feature a leaf blower: more fearsome than a bear, ten times as loud, and unlikely to go extinct as long as there are Mexicans needing pesos.

That said, it turns out that the world’s supply of leaf-blowing Mexicans may not be inexhaustible. According to The Lancet, the world’s population has fallen for the first time since the Black Death. And by “black death,” that doesn’t mean the mortality cause of murdered fast-food workers. It means the bubonic plague that felled the earthly population by as much as a third in the 1300s because of the medieval influencer fad of sleeping with flea-infested rats.

The current population drop comes not from disease, but from women not having babies.

And why is that? Let’s ask some formerly overpopulated nations.

Hey, India, could it be that you’ve burned too many brides and sold too many girls into sex slavery while making “death by sepsis” the national pastime?

India’s eyes dart nervously from side to side.

China and Korea, maybe dimorphism is actually a good thing because it’s a way for young men to tell potential procreation partners apart from boy-band emos.

Hey, El Salvador—congrats on ending your crime problem. But the only way you were able to do it was by imprisoning your entire male under-70 population. That might create birth-rate issues.

Still, there’s hope! The Lancet boasts that there are a few nations experiencing a “baby boom”: Chad, Niger, Somalia, Sudan, Burundi, Nigeria, and Uganda.

Yeah, there’s no hope. You know things are bleak when you look back at 1980s “AIDS is going to depopulate Africa” conspiracy theories with a hint of nostalgia and longing.

All’s not well between Joe Biden and Benjamin Netanyahu. According to Politico, Biden lost his patience with the Israeli leader after he thought that Jews had stolen his bowl of Trix. After being informed by his advisers that Trix is typically stolen by rabbits not rabbis, and in fact Biden had poured the missing bowl of cereal down his shorts mistaking it for Preparation H, the president angrily told his staff, “Listen, Jack…Apple Jacks. That’s what I wanted! Not Trix. Now, who stole my Apple Jacks? Was it that Froot Loops toucan?” he asked, pointing at Debbie Wasserman Schultz.

The Biden/Netanyahu unkosher beef comes down to Biden wanting Israel to call a ceasefire in Gaza and write off the remaining hostages as collateral damage. “They’re insured, right?” Biden’s reported to have said. “You Jews get rich off insurance scams all the time. Collect the dough and buy a deli or something.”

Of course, Netanyahu isn’t budging, a tragedy for Gaza, which has been experiencing its own population decline owing to the fact that the most popular Gazan accessory for newborns, “Baby’s First Suicide Belt,” often goes off unexpectedly in the crib.

But during these bleak days there’s one proud Palestinian with a bright future: Sirhan Sirhan, convicted assassin of RFK Sr. Turns out presidential candidate RFK Jr. looked at Trump and Biden, two men known for saying dumb things, and declared, “Hold my Ivermectin.” RFK Jr. has chosen as his running mate Nicole Shanahan, millionaire “philanthropist” ex-wife of Google cofounder Sergey Brin. Shanahan’s favorite recipient of her millions? L.A. DA George Gascon, a man actively trying to free Sirhan.

Yes, RFK Jr.’s running mate gives millions of dollars to free RFK Sr.’s murderer.

Never think American elections can’t get more retarded. They always can.

Mind you, RFK Jr. is one of those conspiracy guys who thinks Sirhan was framed. But only now has he named the real shooter.

Rosey Grier.

“C’mon,” RFK Jr. rasped to the AP last week. “It was a kitchen. After hours. Who else would be armed in a kitchen and pissed off enough about cold food to start shooting? The fries were frigid. My uncle died for the Cold War, and my dad died for the cold spuds. Those bullets put an end to Yamalot, but I’m here to reignite the flame. Like, literally; Rosey wants some hot fries pronto.”


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