AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS THE TEACHER AWAY (HOPEFULLY)
The Long Beach (California) Unified School District has paid $900,000 to a group called “Californians for Justice,” which bribes students $1,400 each to participate in “racial and social-justice warrior training programs.” The district’s previously paid the org $2,000,000.
Next time some blowhard claims, “We don’t pay our teachers enough,” remind him that the districts have the cash…just different priorities.
Amazingly, that’s not the worst SoCal school story of the week. In L.A.’s School District 1, the UTLA teachers’ union banked $650,000 on a Holocaust-denying black School Board candidate named Kahllid al-Alim, a conspiracy nut who claims “the Jews” faked Sandy Hook and all the victims were “crisis actors.”
It took ten days to tally the Super Tuesday votes (the ballot workers attended L.A. schools, so they can’t count beyond three digits), and al-Alim is headed to a runoff. Last month, the UTLA claimed it would withdraw its endorsement of Malcolm al-X Jones, but oddly they didn’t get around to it until after the election (remember, promptness is white supremacy!).
District 1 is one of L.A.’s legendary snakelike districts that connects disparate, faraway neighborhoods. It starts in the far-south ghettos that have street names like Slaughtered Whites Street and Raped Bitch Boulevard, and it winds north, past LAX, to the Westside, where it ends in the ritzy Jewish Beverly Hills-adjacent neighborhoods of Cheviot Hills and Beverlywood. In an unbelievable move, al-Alim blanketed those neighborhoods with appeals for money (each donor got a complimentary copy of Protocols of Zion, “so you Hebes can see that we knows wut you’s up to”).
Appealing for Jewish cash when you hate Jews takes balls. The last time a black man was lugging stones that big, he was being whipped by a quarry overseer.
BTW, several celebrities come from District 1 schools, including Shia LaBeouf, Nipsey Hussle, and Takimag scribe David Cole.
That district breeds trouble.
THE CURRY CHICKENS HAVE COME HOME TO POOST
Another progressive prosecution success story: Sheldon Johnson, a convicted black murderer and “free da black men” advocate who wowed Joe Rogan with tales of how “prisons be racist” (to be fair, Rogan was so stoned he thought he was talking to Shelly Johnson, the character from Twin Peaks. “Whoa, you know Laura Palmer? She’s hot!”).
Last week in Harlem, Johnson murdered a new man, carved up the body, put it in a freezer, then fled the scene in a blonde wig. He was arrested on charges of homicide and cultural appropriation.
Meanwhile, another L.A. race that took ten days to call…
You don’t see a lot of black faces in City Council District 4, but you do see a lot of black feces. For almost two years now, District 4—which encompasses hipster Silver Lake, ritzy Hollywood Hills, and restaurant row on Ventura Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley, has been terrorized by a homeless man who carries a bag of his own excrement, which he throws at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.
The guy’s got the aim of a major leaguer; he’s a regular Cy Dung. And he has the protection of the district’s councilwoman—India-born socialist Nithya Raman (aka the one bride who should be burned). Raman’s spent the past two years threatening business owners who try to prevent Scatchel Paige from tossing his waste. And before you judge Raman too harshly, remember that in her homeland, feces-flinging is the national pastime.
On Super Tuesday, Raman faced Ethan Weaver, a law & order openly gay white dude who knows that poop’s for packing not chucking.
But thanks to help from Hollywood Hills heavy hitters, Raman won more than 50 percent, meaning no runoff; she’s reelected.
People at the victory party were cautioned to avoid the “fudgecake.”
It’s also best to avoid Ventura Boulevard eateries, now renamed “Mammy Row” because everyone who enters exits looking like Jolson.
IN-BREAD MORONS
One more California story…
When blacks were torching American cities, AOC—aka “how terrible AI would depict a Latina”—defended the rioters, claiming they were just “stealing bread to feed their families.”
Sure, the thugs were looting Nike stores, but that’s only because blacks are such huge Charlie Chaplin fans, they take his shoe-eating scene from The Gold Rush as nutritional advice.
But last week, AOC reacted angrily when a bunch of anti-Israel Muslims and their shills hounded her as she and her ginger pansy boyfriend (“A-wreck the Red”) were leaving a cineplex, having just seen Blue Beetle for the tenth time. The gaga-Gazans asked why AOC wasn’t doing more to get “bread” to the starving akbars, who are forced to subsist on the stale unleavened crap the IDF throws at them like ninja stars (Matzo of the Flying Guillotine, coming soon from Yoram Globus).
And Governor Newsom is having his own bread issues. The bill he signed raising the minimum wage for burger flippers to $20 an hour (just enough to cover the injuries caused by black customers angry at the price increases necessitated by the raise) includes an exemption for bakeries. Why? Because Newsom’s biggest donor is Panera Bread magnate Greg Flynn.
Newsom’s angrily declared that Panera is not exempt.
Is that true? In stepped the L.A. Times, whose owner, Chinese billionaire Patrick Soon-Shiong, is a big Newsom fan because the bill does exempt restaurants that serve dog. The Times ran a piece last week stating “does the exemption cover Panera? Who knows!”
Now that’s journalism, from an outfit whose “investigative reporter” Adam Elmahrek insists that he knows for a fact that no Jewish women were raped on October 7th, because he didn’t see it on TV. So Times “journalists” sitting comfortably in L.A. can know with certainty the fate of every single Israeli woman on 10/7, but knowing the specific details of a law in their own backyard? Impossible! What do you think they are, psychic?
Newsom, AOC, Soon-Shiong, Elmahrek. Half-baked charlatans with infected yeast who aren’t even worthy of being pigeon food.
WINDOW TO THE SOUL (SISTAS)
2 a.m., Houston. Two female deputies approach a second-floor apartment, following calls from neighbors about a burglary. They find the entire front window smashed in, glass everywhere. Suspecting an intruder, the cops call out, “Sheriff’s office! Sheriff’s office! Come out.”
Through the broken window, the deputies see a black woman aiming a gun at them. They unload over thirty shots, even pausing to reload.
And here’s where it gets funny.
The apartment was occupied by two whales of ladies, Laronda Berry and Eboni Pouncy (a woman of such girth, the last thing she ever “pounced” on was an all-you-can-eat ribs buffet…and the seismic repercussions were felt in Oregon).
Turns out the two dark damocloids had a habit of forgetting their keys. And every time they did? They’d just smash out the entire front window, because that’s the only way they knew to deal with lost keys.
It was Pouncy who approached the deputies with her gun, and even though her size makes her the only Texan visible from the moon, of the thirty-plus shots fired by the female responders, every bullet missed except for five nonfatal grazes.
Almost every bullet missed a target the size of Shamu. Nice training at the Houston DEI range.
Video shows Pouncy—rap name Heavy D-fenestrate—walking (slowly, so as not to snap her ankles) down the stairs after the incident, cussing officers with variations of “oh no you dih’nt.”
Berry, who’s now suing, held a press conference complaining that the neighbors shouldn’t have called the cops because “dis da third time dat window been broken.”
Blobdingnagian gun-toting black geniuses who keep forgetting their keys even after having to repeatedly smash their way into their apartment in the middle of the night must be a joy for neighbors and landlord alike. Makes one suspect that the person who called 911 was hoping for officers with better aim.
THESE AREN’T THE DROIDS ANYONE’S LOOKING FOR
Muslim men are so hostile to women, even a Dubai droid developed sentience last week and butt-groped a female reporter.
As-salamu alaykum? “I like’um u ass.”
The notion of Third World androids is rather frightening. Muslims with computerized aim stoning gays. Mechanized Hindus browning sidewalks with supersonic speed. And think of the Chinese! Can you imagine if they begin mass-producing androids? Millions of emotionless non-dimorphic expressionless automatons that obey orders blindly and seek only to serve the hive mind.
Well, okay. Chinese androids would be redundant.
Speaking of Muslims and brainless, soulless hive-minders, at last week’s Oscars, a noisy crowd of anti-Israel street protesters blocked Hollywood’s dimmest stars from shining on the public. Motorcades carrying the “independent thinkers” and “creative geniuses” responsible for that female-led superhero film and that one and that one and that one (ad infinitum) became stuck in traffic, as if anyone in L.A. isn’t used to that.
Meanwhile, in London, Gaza protesters have turned parts of the city into “no-go” zones. What a tragedy—now you can’t be enriched by this cesspool of knife-wielding savages and immigrant detritus.
Dear Muslims: Stopping people from getting into the Oscars…stopping people from experiencing modern-day London…you’re doing them a favor, you tards.
Of course, the coke-fueled androids of Hollywood dutifully wore their “ceasefire now” bloody-hand pins. Some of the more vocal anti-Israel “stars” in attendance were Mark Ruffalo (aka “Vincent D’Onofrio but without the talent”), Ava DuVernay (“low-fat Oprah”), Jonathan Glazer, who wishes to change the name of his Oscar-winning Holocaust film to The Noble Cause That Failed, and Navajo model-actress Quannah Chasinghorse—ironically a homophone for that gropey Muslim bot: Quranah Chasingwhores.
]]>HEAP BAD DECISION
The Telegraph has declared Americans “in revolt” against “green energy,” thanks to the mass killing of bird species courtesy of wind farms. But a better example of environmental mismanagement occurred last week in California, a state that’s green in energy and brown in poop-filled sidewalks.
California genocided fish to please Injuns.
It should be noted that Indians lost an entire continent because a bad case of the sniffles will kill them, as will a good case of brandy. Maybe these aren’t the best strategic planners when it comes to running a state.
Takimag recently detailed the scheme to dismantle California’s largest dam/reservoir in order to “free spiritually important fish,” because local Injuns believe that the “fish spirits” were stifled by being “trapped” in the dam.
So California decided to destroy the Klamath dam/reservoir. In announcing the decision, Governor Newsom said, and dear God this is not a joke, “The river is sick, and the tribes are suffering.”
A drought-prone state demolishing a prime water source because syphilitic drunks said the river was “sick.”
And how’s that project going?
Well, the river’s now dead. As are the fish. Yes, all of them.
As reported last month in the California Globe, the botched demolition turned the river into a “chocolate cake batter” of mud, leading to a “massive salmon extinction event” via “sediment poisoning.”
Siskiyou County Supervisor Ray Haupt told the Globe, “The river is essentially dead, as is everything in it.”
NBC News, an expert on water because it’s what its staffers have on the brain, ceded that “830,000 salmon died,” while claiming that it’s a mere coincidence that this occurred after the river was turned to mud. In fact, the noble fish committed mass suicide to protest Israel’s Gaza war.
Native leaders were unavailable for comment because they caught a fatal cold being outdoors in February.
How the hell did Custer lose to these people?
A CHILD’S GARDEN OF HEARSES
Chuck Berry, Chuck Berry, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
I’m black American, you ding-a-ling, so of course I do not know.
To most black Americans, gardening is an enigma. How do things grow? How does food come out of the soil? These are mysteries mankind ain’t supposed to know, like why does the smoke detector beep, and why does McDonald’s sauce taste better when you murder someone for it instead of just asking for extra packets?
San Antonio is majority Hispanic, and the 7 percent blacks are getting fed up with all the gardening. 50-year-old Charles Martin is on a one-black-man crusade to clean up the town of beans who clean up the town. The career criminal, with four previous prison stints for assault, saw a Mexican gardener outside his apartment last week…and the dude was blowing leaves.
For Martin, the only thing that should be planted in the ground is muthas who disrespect you. So when the gardener accidentally blew a leaf that touched Martin’s car, the enraged honor student went Groundskeeper Willie Horton, shooting the Mexi ten times, turning Mr. Greenthumb into Mr. Spleen’s numb.
The gardener’s in critical condition, but don’t worry—twenty have taken his place (Mexicans are the Hydras of the Third World).
Hispanics are often ridiculed for lacking famous poets, while blacks tend to have a surfeit of wordsmiths. So in honor of the wounded weeder, here’s a Mexican spin on the classic black poem “We Wear the Mask”:
We blow theee leaves all to-and-fro,
When leaves appear, we come and blow.
We wake you up when you are sleeping,
Our pile of leaves is tall and heaping.
We smile as we clean gutters and ledges,
And Jesucristo, we trim theee hedges.
We sing our mariachi song,
But los hombres negros do us wrong.
They shoot us when they are unhappy,
So now we wear kevlar serape.
Shoot us, stab us, but we ain’t going…
…as long as white men’s leaves need blowing.
IMMIGRANTED IMMUNITY
It can be argued that Mexican illegals aren’t entirely useless. After all, they manage to annoy blacks and Jews with their early-morning cacophony (“Oy, again with the leaf blowing! Enough with the blowing! A little sleep is all I ask for”), and anything that annoys blacks and Jews can’t be all bad.
Guatemalans and Venezuelans, on the other hand, are all bad. When Mexico fortifies its southern border to keep someone out, you know that someone must be slimier than the worm in the tequila bottle.
Indeed, Guatemalans and Venezuelans are rather like the anti-gardeners—they don’t blow, they suck.
Defenders of Venezuelan illegal Jose Ibarra, who cold-bloodedly murdered U Georgia student Laken Riley, are already making excuses for him, claiming that “all” Ibarra wanted to do was rape the young nursing student as she was out for a morning jog, but because she dared to fight back, Ibarra, a 5′ 7″ pinto bean, became “overwhelmed” and “frightened,” so of course he had to kill her!
Pobrecito! As we speak, Democrats are prepping legislation to provide free antianxiety pills to illegals whose nerves get rattled by white women who don’t lie down and take it.
Maybe all those flopped female-driven Marvel superhero films could serve a purpose after all: free screenings for Third World scumbags to scare them into thinking that American women possess superhuman strength and agility.
Meanwhile in Florida, an illegal Guatemalan named Virgilio Aguilar-Mendez, who fought a cop, sending him into cardiac arrest and killing him, had all charges dropped because the DA decided that Aguilar-Mendez is functionally retarded and unable to speak any language beyond the gecko-like clicking sounds of the bare-assed tree-dwelling Indian tribe of his ancestors (why did a retarded shaved Yucatán howler monkey venture to the U.S. in the first place? Taylor Swift tickets, of course).
So it’s now legal—even in Florida—for a retarded Rainforest Man to kill a cop.
Although Governor DeSantis has expressed a desire to deport Aguilar-Mendez, he’s been thwarted by The Washington Post, which hired the illegal as its new immigration reporter. “He may not be able to communicate beyond clicks and croaks,” a Post spokesman told the AP, “but that puts him miles ahead of Taylor Lorenz regarding coherence.”
COURTING DISASTER
Speaking of DeSantis, it’s bad enough that every night he has to go to bed plugging his ears as his harridan of a wife tells him that a six-week abortion ban is still not extreme enough.
Last week, DeSantis suffered another loss after the 11th Circuit killed his flagship law banning mandatory DEI diversity brainwashing in schools and businesses: the “Stop the Wrong to Our Kids and Employees Act,” which DeSantis calls “Stop WOKE,” though it can also be read as SWOKE (“Swokes” are an alien species from the Star Wars universe…and like most aliens, they exist on welfare and fentanyl sales).
The 11th Circuit is roughly divided between Democrat and Republican appointees. It even has a Ford appointee, 94-year-old Gerald Tjoflat, who didn’t rule on the DeSantis case because he’s spent the past twenty years trying to figure out his universal remote (“I just wanna watch Law & Order…what the hell’s ‘aux’? Why do I keep seeing ‘aux’? This damn thing’s broken”).
Other 11th Circuit judges include Obama appointee Adalberto José, who made his mark with the Miranda case, in which an illegal Mexican named Rodrigo Miranda bought a high-powered leaf-blower that exploded and blew him back to Jalisco, and Biden appointee Nancy Abudu, a Ghanaian queen legendary for winning two landmark cases before ascending to the bench: Dread Scott (LaQuandary Scott’s dreadlock weave got knocked into a deep fryer during a brawl at Wendy’s) and Hashbrown v. Board of Education (the Detroit Board of Education’s McDonald’s hash browns were cold, but the manager wouldn’t offer a refund so they shot him).
And now, thanks to these great legal minds, DeSantis can no longer prevent schools and businesses from tormenting whites.
He can, if he wishes, appeal to SCOTUS, but his wife is far more interested in promoting her own SWOKE Act: Stop Women from Offhandedly Killing Embryos. She’s convinced Ron that it’s his ticket to the White House in 2040.
THE HOUND OF THE MOSQUERVILLES
It’s a Muslim mystery worthy of Lieutenant Kalalumbo. The New York Times was about to run an exposé of sexual assaults committed by Hamas during the October 7 terror attacks in Israel, when somebody at the Times anonymously leaked interoffice memos, trying to discredit the story.
Times editors demanded an investigation! Somebody within the organization purposely tried to spike a story that made Muslim rapists look bad.
But who?
The editors questioned several employees who were known defenders of Hamas.
Ali Maqbeel, the emaciated, ditzy office attorney. But she swore on a plate of koran on the cob that it wasn’t her.
Film critic Hajir Eibert. He can never review a movie without adding “all the kikes who made this should die.” Was it him?
Or office “class clown” Fatwa Arbuckle. That guy’s always been bad with the ladies.
Also interviewed: office babes Ummah Thurman and Sunni Previn, country music reporter Keith Turban, and in-house black music expert Ramadan Cornelius.
All kidding aside, Times editors did specifically grill Muslim staffers to find the leaker. In other words, they racially profiled. This newspaper that tells whites on a daily basis “never profile!” happily profiled for its own benefit.
NewsGuild President Susan DeCarava formally protested the Times for applying logic to an investigation. “Logic has no place in the news business,” she told the AP. “Just fire a white guy, any white guy, and move on.”
]]>KURDS AND WHY
Mohammed El-Kurd bills himself as “the first-ever Palestine correspondent for The Nation.” Though technically, that’s not true. There’ve been others, but they’ve always blown themselves up on day one because they didn’t like their desk location, or the coffee, or they just had a bad case of the Mondays.
But “Muslim poet” El-Kurd (who displays his dedication to energy conservation by only lighting half of his Twitter profile pic) is hanging in there. Last week El-Kurd, a Media Fellow at the Annenberg Innovation Lab (he thought it was the kind of lab with bomb-making chemicals), complained on Twitter that, gosh darn it, the world don’t let Palestinians do nuthin’!
You can’t protest peacefully. You can’t boycott. You can’t hunger strike. You can’t hijack planes. You can’t block traffic. You can’t throw Molotovs. You can’t self-immolate. You can’t heckle politicians. You can’t march. You can’t riot. You can’t dissent. You just can’t be.
Let’s break that down:
“You can’t protest peacefully.” No, you won’t protest peacefully. Big difference!
“You can’t boycott.” Dozens of countries boycott Israeli goods. The boycotts have put a dent in Israel’s prime exports: abrasive wholesalers and hairy women who shriek.
“You can’t hunger strike.” You kidding? A few weeks ago Palestinian students at Harvard conducted a twelve-hour hunger strike! Twelve whole hours! One akbar lost so much weight he had to tighten his suicide belt.
“You can’t hijack planes.” History suggests otherwise.
“You can’t block traffic.” Please do! In Baltimore during rush hour.
“You can’t throw Molotovs.” At each other? Have at it!
“You can’t self-immolate.” A Kentucky-fried airman seemed to do that just fine last week.
“You can’t heckle politicians.” Sadly, the most heckle-worthy are the ones on your side.
“You can’t march.” True, Arabs have lousy rhythm; bring in the Black Muslims.
“You can’t riot.” Stop giving Hillary Benghazi flashbacks.
“You can’t dissent.” Indeed; Hamas allows no dissent in Gaza. But in the U.S.? You seem to be bitching away just fine and getting paid for it.
“You just can’t be.” If only.
El-Kurd has a poetry anthology releasing this year featuring his greatest hits: Jabbar-wocky, Explode on a Grecian Urn, and The Hostage Not Taken. Publishers Weekly calls it “dynamite.”
“THAT SHOWED ’EM, HUH?”
Leftists finally found a white man they like. And all he had to do was burn himself to a crisp in the name of brown people.
Aaron Bushnell, an IT guy for the Air Force, immolated himself in front of the Israeli Embassy in D.C. last week while screaming “Free Palestine.” Chief among burning Bushnell’s supporters is Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters, an aging Nazi who eulogized the human torch on Twitter as an “all-American hero.”
Turns out when Waters wrote the song “Have a Cigar,” he meant “Be a Cigar.”
Bushnell live-streamed his agonizing death. His final words to his Twitch followers were “Remember to like and char!”
As bad as Bushnell’s soot-in was, in terms of suicidal futile gestures, a batty transgender bean in NYC has him beat. Victor Cazares, a playwright from rural Mexico, is protesting the Gaza war by not taking his AIDS meds. Cazares, who uses the pronouns they/them/leafblower, has pledged to never again take his lifesaving Atripla pills until there’s a ceasefire, and he’s hoping to persuade other gays with AIDS to do the same.
Finally, a reason for far-rightists to support the continued Israeli offensive.
As Cazares wastes away, members of the New York Theater Workshop where he’s “in residence” (i.e., he sweeps up) are mourning one of the finest Mexican playwrights who ever lived. Among his notable works: The Importance of Being Ernesto, The Miracle-Gro Worker, The Iceman Moweth, The Death of Emmett Roto-Till, King Shear, Leaf Her to Heaven, and the classic Troilus and Grassida.
Cazares is survived by the fifty men who got AIDS from him once his viral load returned.
SMALL TOWN, BIG TRANNY
“Dime Doe” is what Homer Simpson says when he’s 10 cents short for the candy machine.
“Dime?” [Digs in pocket, finds only lint] “D’oh!”
Dime Doe is also the name of a black tranny who lived in Allendale, S.C., population 7,579. The town’s almost entirely black; the sole McDonald’s closed years ago because the workers would beat themselves up for undercooking fries. There are ten Asians in Allendale, imported from abroad to give the residents pedestrians to punch. The Allendale High yearbook includes such categories as “most likely to draw 25-to-life before graduation” and “least likely to survive swim class.”
Allendale does have one of the highest violent crime rates in the U.S. So when Dime Doe decided to go tranny, he likely knew he was taking his chances. Doe attracted the romantic advances of local tough guy Daqua Lameek Ritter, a transplant from NYC (he was exiled after violating Mayor Adams’ “50 strikes and you’re out” policy, in which you can push 49 tourists under subway cars, but 50 gets you a one-way bus ticket).
According to NPR, Ritter found himself attracted to Doe’s “kindness and generosity.” And his large male member.
Ritter insisted on keeping the relationship on the down-low. And when word got out, Ritter handled it with maturity over tea and cucumber sandwiches.
Just kidding! He shot Doe point-blank.
Daqua Lameek Ritter is no relation to John Ritter, but one can imagine him in a woke Three’s Company reboot.
Chrissy: “Where’s Mr. Furley?”
Ritter: “I kilt dat faggot. You next if you talk, bitch.”
Last week Ritter was convicted of a federal hate crime for killing a tranny, which will actually draw more prison time than if he’d just been convicted of murder. Poor bastard should’ve stayed in New York and stuck to tourists.
SANCTUARY MUCH?
Speaking of New York, Mayor Adams has been getting an earful from his black constituents (the only people he listens to) regarding the locust infestation of immigrants that’s descended upon the city. Turns out black New Yorkers aren’t too keen on seeing layabouts from Venezuela, Honduras, Guatemala, and Haiti get free stuff from the government.
Because that stuff’s supposed to go to them!
Last week Adams dramatically reversed course on “sanctuary cities,” demanding an overhaul of the system so that immigrants who commit crimes can be turned over to ICE and deported.
“Crimes in NYC should be left to residents of NYC!” Adams told a group of enraged blacks at a town hall. “We will not stand idly by as our city leaders outsource punching Rick Moranis to unqualified foreigners. We must stop farming out the senseless violence that defines this city.”
Even Orthodox Jews have been complaining that they no longer understand their attackers. “Used to be, you got decked on a street corner, it was by a guy who spoke English,” Bed-Stuy resident Chaim Hertzby Schwartzes told the AP. “Today? It’s all Spanish! It’s meshuggeneh.”
For his part, Rick Moranis added, “I don’t mind getting beaten by Haitians; I grew up in Canada, so I speak French. But the Venezuelans, their dialect is hard to grasp, especially when I’m already dizzy from the concussion.”
Black Democrats in Chicago are also pushing for the reform of their city’s sanctuary policies. Black-majority cities may not have a problem with cheap immigrant labor, but cheap immigrant crime has finally motivated the locals to defend what they do best.
HATE CRIMES OF THE MIND
It isn’t just blacks who’ve finally had enough of illegal immigrants. Old-school Cubans in Hialeah, Fla., (95 percent Hispanic) are protesting the influx of huddled massers. Many residents of Hialeah want Governor DeSantis to ship the unwelcome newcomers elsewhere, as Texas’ Governor Abbott’s been doing.
Indeed, last week Abbott took to Twitter to state:
Texas has transported over 104,000 migrants to sanctuary cities: 12,500 to DC, 38,300 to NYC, 31,700 to Chicago, 3,400 to Philadelphia, 16,400 to Denver, 1,500 to LA. Our mission provides crucial relief to our overwhelmed border communities.
No offense to the governor, but sending 1,500 beans to L.A. has about as much impact as a woman in India having triplets. It’s the dictionary definition of statistical insignificance.
The Biden administration is unconcerned with complaints from GOP strongholds like Hialeah, but the anger in Dem cities like NYC and Chicago stings. So to remind blacks that they remain No. 1 in Biden’s heart, last week the FBI released a report assuring blacks that they’re the top victims of “hate crimes” in America, more than Jews, brownies, or trannies.
The FBI report stated that black children are routinely victimized by hate crimes in schools. Because we’ve all seen those videos of gangs of white kids stomping a poor defenseless black.
The FBI’s claim of rampant black victimization in schools was so absurd, so impossible to believe, that the media buried the story, leading to outrage from black leaders, who demanded that the Smollett-esque hoax report receive greater exposure.
“Where’s the outrage over the FBI’s report on the rise in anti-Black hate in America? Anti-Black hate is on the rise and nobody cares,” whined “Dr.” Ricky Jones, Baldwin-King Scholar-in-Residence and Professor of Pan-African Studies at the University of Louisville.
When addressing the obvious fact that there’s zero evidence of black students being “hate-crimed” in schools, Jones stated that this is because the black victims are (he really said this) “attacked psychically.”
Yes, white people are Scanners. Using mind-power, they force blacks to kill each other, get bad grades, riot, do drugs, and avoid child support.
Remember Dionne Warwick’s “Psychic Friends Network”? Turns out she should’ve been worrying about psychic enemies.
]]>MARCUS STARVEY
According to The New York Times, there’s a growing movement of American blacks relocating to Africa.
The black participants are calling it “Blaxit.”
Fast-food workers, subway riders, Asian pedestrians, and Super Bowl parade enthusiasts are calling it “answered prayers.”
The Times profiles Jes’ka Washington, who relocated from Houston to Rwanda because being black in America “exhausted” her.
Indeed, those brawls over broken shake machines are hard on the back, and the side-to-side head bobbing while declaring “uh-uh-uh, oh no you dih’nt” is hell on the neck. Also, being hired without having skill and being unfireable once hired can take the wind out of anyone!
Ashley Cleveland moved from Atlanta to South Africa because she “wanted to be around black people.”
She couldn’t find black people in Atlanta? The article doesn’t mention that she’s blind.
Unfortunately, the black expats are encountering unforeseen inconveniences. First, many African nations are in “food crisis.” For a people accustomed to fast, hot, and plentiful food or else, how do you punch an entire nation for not having hot fries? Indeed, Ghana, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Kenya, Central African Republic, and Nigeria don’t have a single McDonald’s. In South Africa they have something called “slap chips,” but they’re “cooked at a lower temperature and served soft and floppy instead of fried and crispy.”
Oh boy…there’s gonna be trouble! At least in SA it’s even more legal to kill a white than in the U.S.
Washington told the Times that her biggest surprise was the absence of weave shops. “They just give you a machete and tell you to scalp a Tutsi. Best quality weaves I ever got!”
KILT IN THE LINE OF DOODY
Don’t you just hate it when people who should be friends can’t get along?
Elon Musk has so much in common with Scotland’s Punjabi-in-Chief Humza Yousaf. They’re both very open to the idea that the Jews are our misfortune, and they allow anti-Semitism to flourish in their domain. Yet these two should-be buds are feuding on Twitter over what Musk claims is antiwhiteness on the part of Yousaf (a.k.a. Gavin McImam). And sure, Yousaf’s as antiwhite as they come, but dammit he protects the nation from Jews, because if they let in the Jews with their internationalist open-borders obsession, next thing you know the entire nation might be flooded with Third World immigrants!
Oh, wait…that’s happening now. In Scotland and Ireland, practically Jew-free nations run by JubJubs.
But fear not: The Scots will never abandon their psychotic hatred of Israel, even though it was Muslims who tried to blow the Glasgow airport to kingdom come.
Scotland may soon go brown, and it may allow its womenfolk to be raped by trannies, but at least Gaza will be free!
These days Scotland really blows…and not just bagpipes.
But as Scots make an ass of themselves at home, in the U.S., one Scotsman made his ass a home…to a variety of objects. In Harris County, Texas, 6-foot-tall caber-tosser Michael Vest spent the week going antiquing while wearing a manly kilt with nothin’ beneath. He visited a dozen shops, randomly inserting items up his rectum before returning them to the shelf.
The store owners contacted police. Though considering the type of gentleman likely to own an antique shop, it’s surprising they didn’t invite Vest to dinner.
The owners claimed they had to “destroy” the soiled objects, though more than likely they were sold at an inflated price to Pete Buttigieg.
Vest was released on $100 bond. And if you’re wondering why the bond was so low in “law & order” Texas, well, let’s just say that some Texans love things that are “deep in the heart,” while others prefer things that are deep in…somewhere else.
CALIFORNIA DRESDEN, ON SUCH A SUMMER’S DAY
[In Yakov Smirnoff voice] “In America, BEANS bake YOU!”
Mexican immigrants are a huge target for the “gender reveal party” industry, because in their simplicity they still haven’t accepted Western Man’s “scientific truth” that you can’t tell a baby’s gender at birth because its soul might’ve been born into the wrong body (those ignorant wetbacks!), and also because Mexicans pop out babies with enough rapidity to keep any industry in the black (or brown, as it were).
Of course, Mexican immigrant gender reveal parties are a little different—instead of the traditional blue for boy/pink for girl dynamic, the “reveal” consists of white or green, which lets the parents know if the child will install drywall or mow lawns.
Last week Refugio Jimenez and his wife Angelina were sentenced for starting the 22,000-acre El Dorado fire in California in 2020. The fire killed one fireman and burned five homes. It began when Refugio set off a pyrotechnic gender reveal balloon in dry brush on a scorching September day.
There’s that immigrant IQ we’re told we need more of!
The partygoers should’ve known something was wrong when the color that exploded from the device was burnt lumber.
Refugio was sentenced to a year behind bars, and lest you think that’s too lenient, in 2018 Pacific Gas & Electric cremated a whopping 84 Californians in the devastating Camp Fire. 84 people baked alive, and not one person was ever held responsible, even though PG&E was found guilty of 84 counts of manslaughter. The board members evaded jail because, in the words of Bloomberg, “PG&E dodged 90 years in jail for fire because it’s not a person.”
Funny how the Mitt Romney types love saying “a corporation is a person,” until that “person” murders 84 people.
Thankfully, by this time next year Americans will never again have to say “Mitt Romney is a senator.”
PSYCHICS JUST KEEP GETTING’ HARDER TO FIND
And speaking of California…
The California Department of Transportation—Caltrans—maintains the state’s highways. And if you need proof of the agency’s competence, every one of its female directors has a porn name: Marcie Kahbody, Ann Fox, Shalinee Hunter.
Even its male director, Aaron Ochoco, sounds like a guy with a profile in an autoerotic asphyxiation chatroom.
Like all government agencies in blue states, Caltrans’ No. 1 goal is diversity. The org’s website promotes its Race & Equity Action Plan.
Yes, “REAP.”
And thanks to Caltrans’ incompetence, last week one Californian nearly met the Reaper.
The Bay Area’s Marco Vailetti was driving his truck on the lower level of the state-owned Richmond–San Rafael Bridge when a piece of concrete fell off the upper deck and went right through his windshield, missing his head by an inch.
When Vailetti submitted a claim for damages, Caltrans informed him that, per new policy, drivers have to have “prior notice” of the hazard and address it to Caltrans before the accident occurs.
You read that right (you can hear a Caltrans spokesman say it here). A driver has to know that debris will hit his car, he has to notify Caltrans of the fact that debris will hit his car, and then he has to go get hit by the debris.
Then can he sue.
So in California only psychics can get compensated by Caltrans.
It’s almost like Caltrans is purposely insuring that it’ll never have to pay out as its diversity-built structures collapse.
Still, there may be a wrinkle in the plan: The average diversity hires are so low-IQ, they may be the exact type of morons to notice a hazard, report it, and then stand under it anyway.
“I seen it was fallin’ so I stood underneaf.”
“Congratulations, Lamarr! Here’s $5,000,000! We hope the crushed skull hasn’t altered your life.”
“Actually, doctor said considerin’ how dumb I already wuz, I could only git smarter.”
TURBAN PLANNING
And since we’re on a roll in the Golden State, let’s stay there for one last story.
In 1992, California passed a mandatory helmet law for motorcycle riders. At the time, the law was very controversial among motorcyclists and libertarians.
Yes, California used to have libertarians. But then the state legalized pot, so for the past decade the libertarians have been at home on their couches chortling like Beavis and Butt-Head.
“A-huh-huh-huh…‘Meeses’…a-huh-huh-huh…he was mice.”
“Yeah, huh-huh-huh…Ludwig…a mouse in a wig…huh-huh-huh.”
In fact, the helmet law reduced motorcycle fatalities in the state by 38 percent, and—civil liberties aside—with the amount of uninsured illegals on the roads today whose brain injuries would be a taxpayer burden, the law does kinda make sense.
BTW, you can always tell a brain-injured Mexican: He blows gang members and stabs leaves.
The helmet law applies to everyone, even blacks and trannies. And the notion of a law that even blacks and trannies have to follow is, well, impressive.
Unfortunately, that might change. California’s Sikhs—there are about 500,000 of them in the state—are demanding an exemption because of their turbans. A bill has been introduced in Sacramento (by a Hispanic lawmaker who mistook Sikhs for Mexican swamis) that would allow Sikhs to ride helmet-free.
A simpler solution: There’s no religious regulation regarding what material a Sikh turban can be made from. Why not manufacture crash-resistant turbans? There’s also no prohibitions on turban size. Look at this jerk—he could go headfirst through a concrete wall without injury.
On the bright side, most Sikhs in CA are employed, so a motorSikhlist would likely be able to pay for his own care should he get bonked on the temple and see Amrit-stars. The danger is that other identity groups, like blacks with afros, may start demanding the same exemption.
California cannot risk certain demographics getting even more brain-damaged.
]]>NUTS TO YOU
A guy walks into a doctor’s office. Though normal from all outward appearances, when the man speaks, out comes the most appalling sound—a screeching, lispy monstrosity of a voice.
“Doctor,” he says, “please fixth my voith! It thounds thsupid and thscary, and I want it fixthed!”
After a battery of tests, the doctor states, “Physically, you’re perfectly normal. Except for one thing: You have a third testicle. This is what makes your voice so abnormal.”
The patient demands that the extra ball be removed, but the doctor cautions, “Sir, that third testicle must certainly give you the sexual prowess of a superman. Are you sure you want to lose it?”
“Proweth?” the man screams, “PROWETH? What good is proweth when no woman will even thpeak to me because of my voith. Remove it at oneth!”
The surgery is successful, and three months later the man, now sporting a deep, silky voice the envy of Barry White, returns to the doctor’s office.
“Doctor, while I’m grateful for the job you did, now that I’ve been intimate with women, it turns out that indeed, as you predicted, I’m disappointing in the bedroom. I’d like to have that testicle put back in.”
To which the doctor replies, “Ith’s impothible! Thtop asthking!”
Postscript: That doctor went on to become Takimag scribe David Cole.
Leave it to trannies to turn an old joke into a new reality. “Brianna Kingsley,” a man-turned-woman, kept his surgically removed balls in a jar in the fridge in case “she” ever wanted them back. His “boyfriend,” woman-turned-man “William Wojciechowski,” trashed the balls because they were stinking up the food. Kingley sued, and last week a Pontiac judge ruled the affair moot because the balls are gone and there’s no proof they could’ve been “put back” anyway.
To prevent future such tragedies, Glad Bags has created Nad Bags, strong enough to hold the stank of decaying tranny testies.
DEBATE IS DA BUNK
Remember 2007’s “feel good” (unless you’re white) movie The Great Debaters? Denzel Washington played the coach of a debate team at a Texas HBCU in 1935. The team—coed and brilliant—meets Harvard for the national debate championships, with the topic being civil rights. While driving to Harvard, the team is almost lynched, and while at segregated Harvard, they’re mistreated. Yet the black debaters deliver a masterful presentation and win handily.
It was a totally true story, except for everything.
The actual 1935 “great debate” took place between two Texas farmers, one black, one white, who’d just witnessed a hog fall down an embankment.
White Farmer: “That hawg dun died.”
Black Farmer: “Nuh-uh, he just stunned.”
White Farmer: “You tellin’ me I don’t know a dead hawg when I see one?”
Black Farmer: “I seen hawgs take worse tumbles; he fine.”
White Farmer: “You callin’ me ign’ant, boy?”
At which point the hog got up and walked away.
White Farmer: “I’m man enuff to admit when I’m wrong.”
They shake hands.
Black Farmer: “Thus closes the ugliest chapter in American history.”
Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But in reality, the 1935 black debate team was men-only and Harvard was already desegregated…which is irrelevant because the black team never debated Harvard. They did go to USC on a goodwill tour that involved cheering crowds and no lynching attempts, and once at USC, which had never been segregated, there was a debate with a white team, but the topic was not civil rights but “prevention of international shipment of munitions,” and there was no “winner” because there were no formal debate championships until the 1940s.
But other than that, the movie’s accurate. Denzel Washington is black, and Harvard and Texas do exist.
Last week fraudulent “free speech” org PEN released its list of the worst threats to campus free speech in America. To nobody’s surprise, every “threat” was from evil right-wingers criticizing trannyism and DEI. Absent from the list? The decision (made in 2023 but formalized this year) by the National Speech & Debate Association to ban any debate topics that might make black debaters feel uncomfortable.
PEN’s fine with that! Because PEN lives in a reality just as skewed as that of the Denzel movie.
Postscript: That night the hog died of internal injuries sustained in the fall. So technically the white guy won.
VENDOR VIDI VICI
Haitian food! Mmmm….can’t you just smell it?
Wait, that’s the odor of raw sewage.
Last week the AP told the heart-wrenching tale of two Haitians who “fled” their home country for Parksley, Virginia (has anyone ever left Haiti in any other manner than “flee”? Anyone ever “casually departed” fetid cesspool Port-au-Prince in anything less than a rush?).
The AP profiled Clemene Bastien and Theslet Benoir, two names well-suited to a French detective and his arch-nemesis or a Devil’s Island escapee and the dogged policeman obsessed with catching him. After relocating to Parksley, Bastien and Benoir decided to become food vendors, so they opened a “Haitian food truck,” causing much confusion among the locals who thought the menu contained typos.
“Chicken sewers? Surely you mean chicken skewers.”
“Non monsieur, it is chicken marinated in sewer runoff. A specialty in our home country!”
“TB&J? You must mean PB&J.”
“Not at all. It is tuberculosis and jelly, what every Haitian child craves.”
“Should I even ask about the choleraflower casserole?”
“Probably not. But our chimichagas comes with a free side of ticks.”
After the city caught the Haitians flushing the waste from their unlicensed truck down curbside gutters, the “food truck” was shut down. And of course Papa Doc and Baby Doc Poo-valier are suing, claiming racism. According to the AP, to defend itself the city has hired the law firm of Pender & Coward…which some of you may recall as the 1979 film starring Tim Conway as a cocksure PI and Don Knotts as his jittery assistant.
SWISS JEWTRALITY
Perhaps the most surprising thing about a Swiss ski chalet banning Orthodox Jews is…Orthodox Jews ski?
Who knew?
Do they insist on cutting a hole in the ice sheet? Are they allowed to mix sleet and milk? Do they snip the tips off their ski-skins?
Slalom aleichem!
A chalet in Davos (a town that certainly doesn’t need any additional negative connotations) has announced that it will no longer allow Jews to use its facilities. According to the chalet, the decision was made after Israeli tourists kept stealing sleds (because what’s more important to have in a desert than a sled?), and because “Jewish guests call emergency services, even though nobody is hurt.”
Okay, that one makes sense.
“Oy, I’m catching my death! Send a helicoptah!”
“Oy, I tripped on a mogul! Internal injuries maybe I have! I’m suing!”
“Oy, enough with the snow already!”
Also, the chalet claims that Jewish guests are always demanding freebies.
“From the quiver to the ski, Jews will get this lunch for free.”
Needless to say, the chalet’s decision has met with outrage, with the ADL calling it Snowplowschwitz.
Last year Davos also prohibited the renting of Airbnbs to Orthodox Jews, which seems an odd decision, as one would think it’s a money-saver for property owners to rent to people who can’t use electricity half the weekend.
As the Davos vs. daven standoff continues, resort owners worldwide hold their breath that the Orthodox don’t come to their slopes instead.
CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOL
Juan Gonzalez came to America from Mexico with a simple dream: to molest kids. One night three years ago, Gonzalez—a.k.a. Pedo Martinez—molested the grandchild of the pastor of the “Hispanic church” he attends in Pinellas County, Florida.
When the pastor learned that one of his parishioners had blown something other than leaves, he phoned a church “apostle” in Mexico for advice (that apostle, Judas Icarryit, works as a baggage boy at the Mexico City Marriott). The “apostle” told the pastor to force Gonzalez—a.k.a. Nestor the guacamolester—to confess his crime before the entire congregation.
The pastor and Gonzalez agreed to hold a church “emergency meeting,” where he’d confess all. Invitations were Facebooked to congregants. The house was packed; there was even an opening act by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass (playing their classic hit, “Love Potion No. 9-Year-Old”). And as promised, Gonzalez wowed the house with the lurid details of his heinous act. And he was forgiven.
Except…he forgot that he was in Florida, not California. The state decided to prosecute, thanks to multiple videos of the confession from parishioners who recorded the event (though some of the footage is obscured by congregants holding lighters in the air and doing the wave). Gonzalez and his attorneys (the esteemed firm of Dewey, Gropem, and Howe) are arguing that the confession falls under “priest-parishioner privilege,” and therefore cannot be used in court.
Amazingly, a circuit judge agreed with the notion that a public apology in front of a packed church at an event that had Facebook invites and where people were recording with their phones should be classified as “private.”
Now that DeSantis has some free time, maybe he should target that judge.
Thankfully, the 2nd District reversed that decision, stating (in a surprisingly obscenity-laden ruling) “Remember that time Beyoncé fell down them stairs at the concert, and she asked her fans not to put the video online? Bitch knew it would be online. That shit ain’t private.”
The entire matter appears headed for SCOTUS.
Hard cases make bad law. Hard immigrants make even worse.
]]>HOLLYWOOD’S BLACKLIST
Santa’s Village was an amusement park where kids could experience Christmas year-round. Black History Month is the Santa’s Village of observances. Every month in the U.S. is a forced celebration of blacks.
To kick off BHM, BlackHorrorMovies.com noted that in 2023, black-themed horror films became the dominant type of horror flick.
So what’s in store for 2024? Well, the studios have a lengthy lineup of movies nobody’s going to see but they’ll tell their friends at work they did lest they get fired by the company’s DEI czar.
Fries-day the 13th. A black man named Jayson is given cold fries at summer camp, so he murders the counselors. He’s unstoppable because every time he’s caught, George Gascon lets him go.
Night of the Living Dread. The Rastafarian who slaughtered Kelsey Grammer’s father returns to life to demand a recurring role on the Frasier reboot.
Nosferatutu. Bishop Desmond Tutu kills white South Africans to feed his insatiable lust for blood.
The Hair Bitch Project. A possessed weave ripped off during a McDonald’s brawl seeks vengeance against those who wronged it.
Child’s Pay. A demonic doll named Chucky demands child support from its father Chaka.
The Black From the Creature Lagoon. A black dude who drowned in a haunted lagoon is reanimated as a zombie, but he drowns again before he can claim any victims.
Interestingly, while “black horror” is now horror’s most common subgenre, it’s not the most profitable. Maybe because given the daily headlines, there’s enough “black horror” in real life. Why pay $12 for more?
IT’S A WONDERFUL LOWLIFE
Sticking with black movies, Black-ish creator Kenya Barris announced last week that he’s remaking the Hollywood classic It’s a Wonderful Life, but “through the lens of a person of color.”
In the black version, DEI hire George Bailfree, so named because he lives in New York where black criminals never have to post bail, is accused on Christmas Eve of embezzling from his bank (which he did). When federal examiners show up and it looks like George might face repercussions for once, he flees his home and decides to jump off a bridge into a raging creek. After jumping, his black guardian angel Clarence Williams tries to save him, but drowns. As does the next black guardian angel, Clarence Clemons. And the next, Clarence Gilyard.
Yes, even black angels can’t swim.
George uses the corpses of the drowned angels as a pontoon bridge to dry land, where he meets his final guardian angel, Clarence Thomas, who’s not technically an angel but just got tired of seeing all the other bruthas drown. Thomas shows George what the world would be like if he’d never been born: fast-food workers without concussions, qualified white men in the position he won via affirmative action, Asians graduating from colleges they couldn’t attend because he was given their spot, Orthodox Jews with unbroken jaws, and lower welfare expenditures because he hadn’t fathered and abandoned 37 kids.
Realizing that he has indeed lived a wonderful life, George joyously runs through town yelling, “Merry Christmas,” only stopping briefly to sucker punch Rick Moranis. When George arrives home, he finds that the black townspeople have gathered there to kill the bank examiners. DA Alvin Bragg reassures them that all murders in New York are legal unless it’s a white dude trying to restrain a black psycho on a subway train.
As the gatherers sing “Auld Lang Syne,” a bell on the Christmas tree rings. George, mindful of the black guardian angels who helped him, looks skyward and declares, “Every time a bell rings, a black angel gets chicken wings.”
Sadly, the wings are served cold, and fifteen more black guardian angels die in the resulting riot.
The Wonderful Life reboot will debut on Netflix next Christmas. A refreshing addition because only 95 percent of Netflix fare is black.
ROS ANGEROUS TIMES
Last week 60 Minutes shocked its remaining viewers, most of whom think it’s still 1992 (“Honey, turn on Mad About You. That Paul Reiser’s a hoot!”), with footage of Chinese illegals marching through the San Diego border as BP agents look the other way like a Chinese waiter when you need a refill.
And as Chins are “wokking” into Carifornia unobstructed, in Los Angeles, a Chinese drama’s playing out with the L.A. Times, the city’s only paper of record (well, only English-language paper of record. El Periódico de Leaf Blowers Buenos has the highest readership in the Southwest).
And the Times drama invites the question…what’s worse than a pox? As in, what do you say when “a pox on both your houses” isn’t a strong enough sentiment for a feud in which both sides are unspeakably foul?
Times owner Patrick Soon-Shiong, a Chinese billionaire, is a far-leftist whose Antifa daughter patrols the newsroom nixing stories about black crime. Times editor Kevin Merida (who be so black he turn every room dark by absorbin’ all the light), who’s spent his tenure defending Hamas and also nixing stories about black crime, needed at least one crime story for the paper’s Metro page. So he found what he thought was the perfect choice: A rich white surgeon has a dog who superficially bit a woman at a Westside park.
Yes, in a city filled with murders by blacks released by DA Gascon, the only crime story Merida (who be so black McDonald’s workers get stigmata when he enters, in anticipation of the bloodletting) chose was about a white guy whose dog nipped a woman on the hand.
Unfortunately for Merida, Chinks don’t like nips. Turns out that rich dog-owner is Soon-Shiong’s friend! He ordered Merida to kill the story. Merida refused, citing Soon-Shiong’s motto, “In China, man eats dog is NOT news. Dog eats man? NEWS!”
Soon-Shiong, his commie daughter, and Merida are now engaged in an all-out fight for control of the paper. And, what with the paper’s love of Hamas, if an errant IDF bomb were to vaporize all parties, nothing of value would be lost.
Hopefully Israel can make that happen.
A bagel and lox on both their houses.
THE BANNEDOLORIAN
There’s a Kids in the Hall sketch in which a guy’s at a party where there’s a kebab station. He eats a kebab and chokes on it. Returning from the ER, he eats the kebab again, just to prove he can. And he chokes. Returning again from the ER, he again eats the kebab, and again chokes.
Like most Kids in the Hall sketches, it’s funnier in the retelling, which itself isn’t terribly funny.
What is funny is that conservatives seem determined to act out that sketch in real life regarding Holocaust memes. No matter how many times rightists get in trouble for posting Holocaust memes, they keep doin’ it…just like that guy with the kebab.
Gina Carano, who’s either an expressionless untalented actress or a large piece of driftwood that washed up on a Malibu beach and was mistaken for human by a legally blind talent agent, announced last week that she’s teaming up with Elon Musk—who’s either an expressionless deathly-pale billionaire or a poorly crafted department store mannequin for the portly men’s section—to sue Disney for firing Carano after she tweeted a Holocaust meme comparing the mass murder of Jews to conservatives banned on social media.
She’s obviously not driftwood, because only a human could be that stupid.
Carano’s Holocaust meme featured the image of a raped and beaten Jewish woman, which Carano described as representing “Germans turning their neighbors against the Jews.” Except the photo was of the Lviv massacre, committed by Ukrainians, a people so fond of mass-lynching Jews that their highest-grossing 1940s children’s movie was titled Wallace and Pogromit.
Certainly that dying Jewish woman’s last thought was, “I hope one day the image of my impending death is exploited by a bimbo so talentless she was out-acted by a muppet.”
The first planning session regarding the lawsuit didn’t go well, as oblivious staffers returned Carano to the ocean from which she came, and shipped Musk to the Macy’s fat guys department.
“SPECIAL” EDUCATOR
This year, newly unemployed Shellyne Rodriguez is buying her Black History Month feast with an EBT card (which, to be fair, is the traditionally observed manner for most celebrants). Rodriguez is the former Hunter College professor who got in trouble last year for attacking an anti-abortion student group. When a reporter asked for an interview, she held a machete to his throat and threatened to chop him up, chasing him down the street with the weapon.
Hunter fired her, not accepting her “cultural identity” defense that chopping someone with a machete is simply the standard African way of saying “no” (Nigerian marriage proposals have a 50 percent chance of ending in bloodshed).
Rodriguez took a plea deal in the machete case; she was sentenced to three months of behavioral therapy.
Three months to “reform” Shellyne Rodriguez? It takes longer than that to potty-train a dog, and they have bigger brains and greater sentience.
Of course, being black in NYC, Rodriguez was soon hired by the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art, as part of its plan to rebrand as the Cooper Union for Stone Age Regression.
At Cooper, Rodriguez helmed the MA (Machete Armed) program. Unfortunately, she also ran the JD (Jews Die!) program. Rodriguez has moved on from threatening newsmen to threatening Jewsmen. After a series of posts attacking Jews (including images of Jews photoshopped as cockroaches), Rodriguez was, once again, fired.
Back to behavioral therapy for her.
One of these days, it’ll have to take!
]]>SOMEWHERE OVER THE BRAIN-SLOW
It was the greatest unsolved mystery of our time.
D.B. Cooper? The Black Dahlia? The Zodiac killer? Dudley Moore’s movie career (dude was five feet tall…how the hell did he become a romantic lead in the 1980s)?
No, bigger than all those combined: the theft of Dorothy’s Wizard of Oz ruby slippers. In 2005, the priceless shoes were stolen from the Judy Garland Museum in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. And if you’re wondering, the Garland Museum is in Grand Rapids because that’s where she was born, though, considering her fanbase, the museum might’ve been better suited to Fruitland, Knob Lick, Swisher, Homosassa, Cumby, or Boy River.
For two decades, the cops have been baffled by the theft. Attempts to gain info from the Grand Rapids gay community were complicated by the fact that suspects kept coming back for additional strip searches.
Well, now the mystery’s finally solved. 76-year-old “retired mobster” Terry Martin confessed to the crime last week. When asked why he stole the shoes, he explained (this isn’t a joke) that he thought they were “priceless” because they contained real rubies (in fact, they’re “priceless” because of their memorabilia value…the “rubies” are just props).
It’s starting to make sense why Somalis move to Minnesota. Where else can they be the high-IQ ones?
A search of Martin’s home revealed a basement filled with kidnapped dwarfs. “I thought they were Munchkins,” he explained to investigators, “and I wanted their pot o’ gold.”
When informed that it’s leprechauns, not Munchkins, who do the gold pot thing, and both are fictional anyway, Martin sighed and admitted, “I’m not smart.”
The judge sentenced Martin to time served. It was a better deal than Kenneth Smith, the Alabama hitman-for-hire executed last week for killing a woman in 1988. Smith became the first U.S. convict executed via nitrogen, though in a tragic error the prison staff mistakenly ordered nitrous (Alabama—The Illiterate State), and Smith died laughing because his voice sounded like a Munchkin’s.
His corpse has gone missing…oh Terry Martin, will you ever learn?
AUSCHWIFT
Last week was a complicated one for “resting duck-face” Elon Musk. On one hand, Jan. 27 was Holocaust Remembrance Day, which on Musk-era Twitter means Denial Memes Day (Musk flaunts his tolerance of Holocaust denial as proof of his free-speech advocacy).
But there’s a problem. If 50 percent of Twitter is Holocaust deniers, it appears that 48 percent is people posting AI nudes of Taylor Swift (the remaining 2 percent is just Steve Sailer and Will Stancil debating in a thread so endless it makes readers wonder if either man ever sleeps; indeed, the thread is so infinite, some believe it’s the literal incarnation of Nietzsche’s abyss…gaze into it and you become the dude in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade who chose the wrong cup).
Why are Twitterers posting AI nudes of Taylor Swift? You might as well ask why she’s the most popular singer on the planet. There are some things humankind isn’t meant to understand. Taylor Swift is like Hinduism. A billion people are into it, but if you’re not one of ’em, you don’t have a clue why.
For Musk, the Swift nudefakes were a perineum bridge too far. He ordered all searches for Taylor Swift blocked on the site, lest any of the AI fakers get traffic.
A tantalizing conundrum: What if a tweeter combines a Holocaust denial meme with a Taylor Swift nudefake? Would it be blocked, or would it be promoted? AI Taylor Swift being pleasured by a narwhal while screaming “Holohoax!” and “wooden doors!”
This could be Musk’s “Liar Paradox,” and in theory—considering that he’s almost certainly a replicant or cyborg, it might make him self-destruct like the robots on Star Trek.
“Holocaust denial must be promoted!”
“Swift deepfakes must be blocked!”
Here’s a meme of a Taylor Swift deepfake denying the Holocaust.
“ALLOW! DENY! ALLOW! DENY! DOES NOT COMPUTE! DOES NOT COMPUTE!”
Explosion.
R.I.P. Elon Musk…short-circuited like the flammable cars he sold.
LOWERING THE AKBAR
Call it Horton Hears an Allahu (by Dr. Jude Seuss).
It was supposed to be the worst Islamophobic atrocity since Anthony Quinn’s nose in Lawrence of Arabia. Last November in Burlington, three Palestinian college students were walking down the street…which sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a joke.
“Three Palestinians walk into a bar. Then they rape the women and blow the place up.”
Palestinians are better on setup than punchline.
Anyway, last November Abdul, Scarabdul, and Gabagooldul were walking through Burlington when they were shot by a white guy. They survived, but one was paralyzed from the chest down (thankfully, GoFundMe raised enough to buy him a paraplegic suicide van). Because the shooter was white, the incident was used as a field-leveler by Joe Biden and the press: Sure, Palis raped and murdered 1,200 Jews on October 7th, but one lone white guy shot THREE Palis in Vermont. So it’s all even.
But now that the case has moved from the press to the courts, there’s a rend in the narrative. Turns out the white shooter was a deranged leftist Hamas supporter. After ranting online about defending Palestinians, he charged out of his ramshackle home and gunned down the first people he saw in his 88 percent white city.
And they turned out to be the town’s only Palestinians.
Now that’s a funny joke.
There’s an irony to this: Palestinians spread pro-Hamas propaganda, then hide in one of the whitest cities in the U.S., only to be mistaken for white and gunned down by a mentally ill white who bought their propaganda.
Hoist by their own fatward.
The gunman, James Eaton, is facing a variety of charges.
He’s also the new Middle East correspondent for The Guardian.
THE DIVERSITY TRAINS “COME” ON TIME
How can you tell a Jewish Texan?
He wears a ten-gallon hat but swears it’s 6 million.
He not only remembers the Alamo, he passes legislation to create Alamo Remembrance Month.
He won’t use the term “lone star state” because he has a bad history with single-star armbands.
Real-life Streicher caricature George Soros is vacationing in Texas, spending billions to flip the state by importing more immigrants. And not just Mexicans, but Hindus and Muslims, who (according to Foreign Policy) are rapidly turning the state blue.
Of course, Chamber of Commerce Republicans will argue that Central/South Asians are good for business, what with how they’re always the first to let the elderly know that their Microsoft Windows has a virus. But last week in Germany, commuters had an experience that might foreshadow what awaits Texas as Soros imports browns from half a world away.
Afghan “refugees” in Germany have a fetish for masturbating on train tracks.
Why? Who knows. Maybe after you’ve had the thrill of coupling with a donkey, the next adrenaline rush is wanking in the path of a locomotive. But this is a true story—last week all rail traffic in the Kassel region was halted by Afghans slappin’ it on the tracks.
These Stone Age humper-gatherers totally redefine “handcar.”
Behold the new Afghan-influenced take on a classic American folk ballad:
I’ve been jerkin’ on the railroad,
All the livelong day.
I’ve been jerkin’ on the railroad,
Since they took my mule away.
Without my sexual partner,
My dating life’s a fail,
So I’ve been jerkin’ on the railroad,
As my hand-crank “oils” the rail.
ODUMB AND ODUMBER
Does The Week That Perished reflect the news cycle…or drive it?
Two weeks ago this column highlighted the misadventures of Willie Odom, the illiterate black diversity hire who, in 1993, piloted a barge into a train trestle in Mobile, Alabama, causing a derailment that killed 47 commuters who either drowned or burned to death in the fuel fire. Odom couldn’t read a map or understand radar, but he’d been put in charge of the craft anyway, because something something enrichment something something Cuba Gooding as Radio.
Following The Week’s Odom callback, the hugely popular YouTube channel “Fascinating Horror” (1.15 million subscribers) ran an Odom counterpoint, in which the host/narrator, an Edinburgh-based gent who never reveals his name, argued that Odom was actually the hero of the disaster.
As U.K. law prevents him from speaking ill of a person of color, the host purposely mispronounces Odom as “oh-dehm,” as saying the word “dumb” in association with a POC might lead to arrest, even if that’s the correct pronunciation.
How grand it must be to live in the U.K., the cradle of the English language, now forcing purposeful mispronunciation lest bobbies give you a floggin’ on the noggin.
While grudgingly ceding that after killing those people, “Oh-Dehm” (as in, “oh dem people I dun drownded”) was only concerned about losing his job, the host declared that Odom was the hero of the day because after the barge crew dragged one of the burned, dying passengers from the water, Odom, noticing that the dying man had lost his shoes, brought him a pair of slippers.
So that makes everything all right!
Maybe that’s the best course for today’s DEI advocates who want every airplane pilot and air traffic controller to be an unqualified black. Just offer consolation slippers to those maimed by the consequences.
“Feets don’t derail me now!”
Durable all-cotton slippers with rubber soles featuring affirmative traction so you can keep your footing as your train or plane crashes.
Forget Odor-Eaters. The new footwear for the DEI age is Odom-Eaters.
Sorry, Oh-DEHM-Eaters. As in, “Oh, dem days when you didn’t have to worry that your pilot was an illiterate tard!”
]]>EXTERMINATION CHARGING STATION
You can’t spell “never again” without “EV.”
Last week Elon Musk faced a revolt from Tesla owners fed up with the lack of “supercharger” stations to jolt up their vehicles. According to Tesla enthusiasts in NYC, it takes an average of 90 minutes waiting in line to get access to the chargers.
Sure, everyone’s in a sentimental mood these days regarding Jimmy Carter; dude’s wife died, and the man himself has reached “stage-4 Biden” on the dementia scale.
Still, Carter nostalgia is no reason to re-create 1970s gas lines. Especially when there’s no actual gas involved.
For his part, last week Musk—as his Tesla customers mourned the lack of juice—was in Poland mourning the lack of Jews. Musk toured Auschwitz with Ben Shapiro (they got in half-price because Shapiro has a season pass). Walking through the gates of the Birkenau train depot, the VIPs and their entourage were met with a Jumbotron playing archival film of Jewish transports arriving at the camp in 1944. The solemn footage was interrupted by a black guy hawking Geico, because even Auschwitz streaming isn’t ad-free these days (unless you spring for Auschwitz+, which gives you access to the new talk show John Goodman’s Gas Chamber, in which the renowned actor interviews newsworthy guests in an enclosed room while eating chili).
Musk hasn’t been the only high-profile VIP to visit Auschwitz recently; California Governor Newsom, secretly hoping that Biden beats Carter to the Pearly Gates (kýrie malaison), recently made a trip as well. When told that the Auschwitz train tracks have sat dormant and decaying for almost eighty years, the “totally not running” Dem presidential contender, reflecting on his state’s trillion-dollar twenty-year-unused fossilized “high speed rail” lines, remarked, “Damn, those Nazis were good.”
THAT OLD BLACK MAGIC
There’s a standoff in Texas! After SCOTUS ruled that the Biden Administration can dismantle the state’s razor-wire border barriers (courtesy of swing vote Amy Coney Barrett, who was concerned that the deadly obstacles might slow the flow of Third World children for her to adopt), Texas Governor Abbott is standing…well, sitting firm.
It’s the Alamo all over again. Except in this war against Biden, the rallying cry is “Remember the a-lame-o.”
And when Kamala Harris cackled her support for dismantling the barriers, the cry became “Remember the a-lay-ho.”
And when Pete Buttigieg tried to intervene, he inspired the cry “Remember the a-gay-bro.”
Turns out the United Nations is using U.S. tax dollars to pay for the migrant caravan invasions. Worse still, according to Axios, the new enrichers are bringing not just crime and disease but witchcraft! Apparently, Afro-Latin immigrants are re-embracing Santeria and other brujería in order to “reconnect with their roots” (which American black women do every day when they rip out each other’s weaves during fast-food brawls).
Voodoo hasn’t exactly paid dividends for the Haitians. They live in sewers, die by the score from disease, poverty, and violence, and every few years a hurricane or earthquake kills a million of ’em. If you’ve ever been to Haiti, the place isn’t protected by brujeria but poo-jeria, and the only thing it wards off is cleanliness.
Axios quotes Eric Labrado, “who owns a witch shop in Austin, Texas,” as saying “brujería opens up a lot of doorways to get back to our history.”
Well, if one’s “history” involves slithering in human waste, it would seem that razor wire would bring back fond memories. By making illegals crawl under barbed wire through rivers of filth, Governor Abbott’s giving the newcomers a deeply spiritual, indigenous experience.
Remember the urinal-amo.
SÍ, SIGH, SUE
Of course, it’s not just Texas that’s having immigrant issues. “Sanctuary city” Chicago’s flooded with illegals, and the local blacks don’t like it, especially as the newcomers have been showered with freebies.
In Chi-town, EBT’s supposed to mean “Emmett’s Bountiful Till,” not “Every Bean gets Tacos.”
The rebellion against Chicago’s largesse toward illegals is being led by a black Democrat named Cata Truss, not to be confused with Truss-a-Cat, a company that will come to your home and tie up your cat so you can open a can of tuna without being pestered (if that sounds like a poor business model, it’s still turning more of a profit than the L.A. Times).
Truss told the FP that migrants are ruining Amundsen Park, “the crown jewel of the black community” (because if you walk through there with jewels, you get crowned).
“They’re giving migrants all the things we’ve been asking for since we came here in chains,” Truss declared as she walked through the no-down-payment house given to her by BofA as part of its “Homes for Homies” housing initiative while direct-depositing the six-figure check from her DEI job yelling at whites five hours a week as she fries up a Fabergé egg omelet paid for by PPP funds that were supposed to go to an orphanage (“It taste like crap, but dang, it crunchy”).
Truss’ lawsuit is backed by the local NAACP, which also backs the far-left mayor’s sanctuary city policies. When asked how the esteemed org can, at the same time, support illegal immigrant welfare while also suing to stop it, Chicago NAACP chief LaDunceford Tardamon took a drag on a joint and said, “Got any fries?”
The Truss lawsuit is complicated by the fact that nobody outside of Chicago cares about Chicago—the windy city that makes all other Americans say “blow me.”
WAR OF THE NOSES
The Oscar noms are out! And this year’s Best Actor contest is shaping up to be a hoot.
Correction: a hooter.
As a Puerto Rican once asked, “D’ju knows who’s gonna win?”
Yes, Jew nose is who’s gonna win.
The two main contenders: Bradley Cooper, the handsome gentile who, in his role as Leonard Bernstein, employed a fake schnoz that looks like Woody Woodpecker’s beak. In the film, the honker is put to good use in the scene in which Bernstein pecks out Steven Sondheim’s eye while going “hah-hah-hah-HAH-hah!”
Up against Cooper is Cillian Murphy, a gentile who went the opposite route to play Alan Oppenheimer. Rather than sporting a Groucho nose, Murphy (this is true) ate nothing but one almond a day for three months to emaciate his face so that his own nose appeared larger.
Even if he doesn’t win, Murphy’s book The Bergen-Belsen Diet: A Frank Approach to Jewface is already a bestseller.
Snubbed for a nom was Helen Mirren, who portrayed Golda Meir in a flop that earned only $6 million at the box office (though some say that figure’s inflated).
Mirren played Meir with a snout from the Jimmy Durante collection, though she was quick to tell Vanity Fair that it wasn’t a “fake nose” per se, but just “fake bridge and tip.” Her nose hairs were unaltered, so of course you can’t call it a “fake nose”!
The big question: Where do professional Jewish whiners stand on the Great Nasal Battle? Where’s the ADL? Where’s Sarah Silverman, who sees swastikas in sandwiches yet performed alongside Cooper in Maestro?
One can hear Wiesenthal Center dean Marvin Hier (nose courtesy of the Heckle and Jeckle collection): “It’s da ultimate posthumous defeat for Hitlah! We’ll make all da gentiles wear Jew noses, so when da next Holahcaust comes, dey can’t tell us apaht.”
Stupid as that sounds, it’s not nearly as reality-detached as the guy who thought Bradley Cooper’s “pre-op Laura Loomer” beak looked even remotely realistic.
GA-GAZA
Like a herpes cold sore, Taylor Lorenz can’t stop returning. The Washington Post’s fraudulent “Gen Z” social media reporter, who’s actually in her 40s or older (as a “social media” reporter, it’s only appropriate that she’s a living meme: “how do you do, fellow kids?”), has shifted focus from canceling legitimate journalists, doxxing rightists, and weeping about mean tweets, to becoming the poster girl for “long Covid,” which she claims to have.
One could say that Lorenz is the “WWII pinup girl” for the battle against long Covid, but that would muddy the waters, as Lorenz is so old she actually was a WWII pinup girl.
Claiming to have “neverending Covid” (Limahl’s follow-up to his 1984 hit), last week Lorenz blasted every other human in America for no longer locking down and masking up. Indeed, she claimed that the Covid “variants” created by you are “committing genocide in Gaza.”
Substituting germs for Jews is either the worst anti-Jew libel in history, or the best pro-Jew deflection.
Lorenz went further, claiming that your refusal to mask means that she can’t go to the grocery store to buy food (she was going to say “buy bread for my family,” but then she realized she’s such an odious creature, she has no family).
But wait…if Lorenz has “permanent Covid,” why is she worried about catching it? She’s old enough to remember AIDS (hell, she’s old enough to remember polio), and the thing about that disease was, once you got full-blown AIDS, you couldn’t get AIDSier.
Rock Hudson: “I’m worried about getting more AIDS.”
Marc Christian: “Sweetie, your blood cells lost so much white, your doctor calls your arteries Detroit. Your white-count’s so low, it could be a Harvard freshman class. Your blood vessels are so nonwhite, bacteria won’t walk through them at night. Bend over, Rock-baby—you’ve nothing to lose.”
If Lorenz believes she has forever Covid, doesn’t that mean she’s the menace? The Typhoid Mummy? (Get it? She’s old.) And even the most strident anti-mask anti-lockdowner probably wouldn’t mind if Lorenz were forcibly quarantined for the rest of her life.
Nobody would mind.
]]>JUST PLANE CRAZY
2023’s least pleasant travel trend was airplane defecation. A dozen stories involving passengers “letting loose” in the seats and aisles.
Well, welcome to 2024, the year that will make you nostalgic for the days of passenger poop.
With attention focused on the Boeing 737 Max, a plane that can’t seem to stop falling apart midair, investigators have learned that one of the reasons for the reintroduction of “flying is a likely cause of death” after decades of “flying is the safest form of transportation” is that Boeing’s been outsourcing its safety testing to $9-an-hour Indians.
Yes, by all means, entrust the safety of airplanes to people who’ve yet to figure out the toilet.
That’s not a joke; for years the Indian government has run PSAs explaining to its citizens what a toilet is and how to use it. And Boeing was like, “These are the people to stress-test our safety software!”
Worse still, the Punjabi safety-checkers spent all their time on the test flights using the radio comms to call elderly people to tell them that their Microsoft Windows has a virus.
“Please give me your credit card number, ma’am, before the plane I’m on explodes midair over Burbank.”
Long delays, lost luggage, canceled flights, nationwide computer outages, passenger defecation, and onboard bathrooms occupied for the duration because Pete Buttigieg saw an attractive blond guy. Hard to believe that airlines could find a way to make flying worse.
But they did. Kudos.
And it doesn’t stop there…
THE WILLIE ODOMETER
On Sept. 22, 1993, an illiterate black Affirmative Action hire with the on-the-nose name of Willie Odom was piloting a barge near Mobile, Alabama. Odom had no experience using radar, and he couldn’t read a map, which was irrelevant as he’d left his maps at home anyway (“Why I gotsta bring somethin’ I kin’t read nohow?).
Odom plowed his barge into a railway trestle, dislodging the tracks, and the Amtrak Sunset Limited derailed and plunged into the water, killing 47 innocent people.
Odom’s legal defense was “Feets, don’t fail me now!” It worked; he never faced any penalties.
In a sane nation, the Odom disaster would’ve put the brakes on Affirmative Action hires for positions that might involve mass death if performed poorly. Indeed, in 1999 SCOTUS ruled that United Airlines could refuse to hire pilots with bad eyesight (Sutton v. United), because even George Bush Sr.’s gift to dystopia, the ADA, allows for discrimination if a person’s disability poses a “direct threat” to public safety.
That was then. Welcome to The Age of Odom! Today, United Airlines CEO and drag queen (yes, drag queen) Scott Kirby has committed to ensuring that 50 percent of his pilot hires are Affirmative Action cases, regardless of the safety cost (the UA office pool for the death toll of the first Kirby-created crash is open; the smart bet is between 150 and 200). And (in Peter Griffin voice) you think that’s bad, last week the FAA committed to hiring air traffic controllers with “hearing & vision problems, missing extremities, partial paralysis, complete paralysis, epilepsy, severe intellectual disability, psychiatric disability and dwarfism.”
That’s an actual quote. You know it’s an effed-up list when the friggin’ DWARF is the least objectionable inclusion.
So, while United has a new generation of Willie Odoms in the air flying blind because dey doesn’t know da charts, on the ground, the controllers will be a bunch of blind deaf amputee paralyzed schizophrenic retards having seizures and psychotic episodes.
Pilot: “Oh lawdy, where I be? I jes’ be seein’ sky n’ sheeeet!”
Controller: “Stop soul-stealing my banana-boat you goat-headed concrete caterpillar demon-dog.”
Pilot: “Roger that.”
Yes, you will long for the days of passengers pooping in the seat next to you. You’ll long for any flight that brought you home sullied but alive.
SISTERS ARE SCREWIN’ IT FOR THEMSELVES
Continuing the theme, a humble suggestion: Anyone involved in matters of life or death should not do dance videos.
Please.
As if the “dancing nurses” of Covid weren’t bad enough…
Bereaved relative: “May I hold my father’s hand as he passes?”
Nurse: “Shabba-doo shabba-doo 2-3-4 Billy Bounce moonwalk! Lookit me, I’m a superstar!”
Now the people in charge of keeping planes in the air are following suit.
Spirit Aerosystems, the company responsible for turning the Boeing 737 Max into a high-stakes game of Don’t Break the Ice (“how many parts can fall off before the entire craft disintegrates?”) had, in the months leading up to the current “quality crisis” (that’s Bloomberg’s adorable way of saying “airplanes falling apart crisis”), been posting “dance videos” of its diverse “dream team” of women and women-of-color engineers.
You know what these DEI darlings should’ve been doing instead of dancing? Maybe screwing the doors in so they don’t fall off mid-flight.
Mind you, to these enginHERS, the very word “screw” denotes sexual violence. And “right-hand thread” is misogynistic, suggesting “rightism,” “hand job,” and “threat.”
Surely you can’t expect an Oberlin grad with a degree in Mayan Menstruation Poetry to work under such oppressive circumstances.
That said, Netflix is looking to turn the Boeing crisis into a movie. Last week, authorities in London busted a Dubai gang that was transporting hundreds of millions of laundered pounds via executive-class carry-on baggage. In the Netflix retelling, the 737 door blows open, sucking out the laundering ringleader’s bags, exposing the scheme as the money rains down on a black neighborhood, enabling the locals to buy bread for their family (and crack). Initially accused of negligence, Spirit Aerosystems engineer LaWandella DeGroovius, who’d attached the door using Gorilla Glue (“after I dun put it in mah hair, I figured it could hold a door too”), is lauded for busting the crime ring.
Final scene: LaWandella dances as she’s promoted to Spirit CEO.
Fade out…on the film, and U.S. engineering competence.
TRUMP CLAPS BACK
What does it say about the current state of the GOP that in a presidential primary with two Indians, it’s the white guy who has the communicable disease?
Hell, even Vivek’s middle name—Ganapathy—sounds like a disease.
Ganapathy: noun—a mental disorder in which the patient thinks he’s a four-armed elephant. Side effects: transparent toadying to large white men who feed him peanuts and make him do tricks.
But in fact it’s not Vivek or Nikki “Israel’s never needed America but don’t cut off foreign aid because even though they don’t need it they humor us ’cuz they know it makes us happy” Haley who’s the active-sore loser. It’s Trump.
According to James Carville, aka “the dancing Six Flags guy if he were a Bond villain,” Trump has the clap. Carville bases this claim on the runny red marks on Trump’s hand, prominently displayed as he waved to fans during a recent court appearance.
Carville has no medical training. But as Bill Clinton’s friend and top adviser, he’s probably seen more VD than a red-light-district free clinician.
To quote Business Insider, Trump’s red marks might be something called “hand herpes,” a condition often seen in Muppet puppeteers who don’t wear protection when sticking their hand up Miss Piggy (that tramp gets around).
Should Trump have a venereal disease, it’s unlikely his supporters will mind. Indeed, Evangelicals are already citing iconic conservative Syphilis Schlafly as an example of the right’s tolerance of the venereally affected.
Former Trump adviser George Papillomadopoulos could not be reached for comment.
JULIO IGLESI-ASS
Whether or not Trump’s hands have been in places no hand should be, there’s another prominent GOP who has his finger not on the pulse of his party, but up its rear end.
Matt Gaetz, Republican proctologist.
Reacting to Trump’s strong showing in Iowa, Gaetz triumphantly told Newsmax that the victory proves that Trump’s path back to the White House will be dependent on black and Latino voters. Somehow, Gaetz arrived at this conclusion after Trump won an almost entirely white contest.
“This is the blue collar realignment of the Republican Party and what I can tell you is for every Karen we lose, there’s a Julio and a Jamal ready to sign up for the MAGA movement, and that bodes well for our ability to be more diverse and to be more durable as we head into not only the rest of the primary contest, but also the general election.”
Inside word has it that Gaetz was dared to follow up a victory that showed Trump’s popularity among working-class whites by uttering the single most idiotic and least relevant thing imaginable. According to sources, it was between “we need the votes of Julio and Jamal” and “we need sentient buttermilk flapjacks hanging from drones to protect election integrity.”
In the end, Gaetz rejected the latter, as it’s already RFK Jr.’s slogan.
Also, leave it to Gaetz to round out what was the worst week for “diversity” in ages (the Boeing 737 crisis, the FAA and United announcements, the FBI and Johns Hopkins DEI scandals) by championing “diversity.”
There’s also a theory going around that Gaetz’s comments were a calculated attempt by Florida GOPs to drive Ann Coulter insane before she can write an anti-Trump bestseller.
If the GOP’s gonna base 2024 on attracting Julios and Jamals, party leaders should buy a Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka, because that’s what kamikazes used (and no dancing LaQuedas were involved in the plane’s construction).
Trump’s new platform: the Rhodium Plan! Leaf-blowers for every bean, hot fries for every black.
And no, the plan isn’t named for the precious metal, but Rhodium DeJackshun, a black guy who murdered five people over cold fries. Trump’s promised to pardon him, day one.
]]>A SCOOBY JEW MYSTERY!
Today’s episode: The Case of the Haunted Brownstone.
Crown Heights, Brooklyn: For weeks, people living in the area were hearing voices coming from their walls and floorboards.
“Honey, I think we have ghosts in the walls.”
“What are they saying? Are they pining for lost loves? Crying out to avenge their deaths?”
“Uh, no. They’re arguing over whether the brisket’s too dry.”
Yes, some walls wail, while others just kvetch.
Turns out the “ghostly” voices were Orthodox Lubavitcher Jews from the neighborhood’s Chabad HQ. The Hasidics had built secret tunnels connecting the HQ to other Lubavitcher buildings, in the process snaking under and in between other people’s homes.
The construction noise went unnoticed. But typical Jews, they just couldn’t stop talking for ten damn minutes.
Last week the NYPD descended on the tunnels, and the Lubavitchers were Lubevicted. Dramatic footage showed black-clad Hasids attempting to escape by climbing out of sewers—an odd sight, as typically for Jews “sewer” isn’t a noun but a command you give your lawyer after a fender-bender involving a female driver.
One of the Ortho-doxed Jews told the Post, “I regret nothing; the brisket was too dry.”
Zoynks, Scoob!
HARD ROCK CAFE
Albuquerque is George Soros country—one of the most violent and crime-ridden cities in the nation, thanks to the “progressive” Soros DA Raul Torrez.
Several years ago, one of Albuquerque’s leading lights, a homeless schizophrenic named Edelidio Wallace (part of the city’s elite Toofargonquin Round Table), threw a rock with “pay up!” Sharpied on it through the window of a Mexican restaurant. Cops asked him why he did it, and Wallace replied, “All Messican restaurants owe me money.”
Prosecutors rationally explained that the restaurant owners don’t even know who he is, and it’s not realistic to think that “all Mexicans” would owe him money. And with that, Wallace was released.
Reason and not incarceration won the day!
Then Wallace threw “pay up!” rocks through the windows of more than a dozen more Mexican restaurants. Torrez was stymied. “Obviously, we can’t institutionalize the man! That goes against the holy word of Soros.” One suggestion was to ban Sharpies, but that would’ve negatively affected the city’s bustling graffiti industry. So Wallace was enrolled in a multimillion-dollar taxpayer-funded mental health program, to convince him, via logic not punishment, that Mexican restaurant owners don’t owe him money.
And it worked! Last year, Wallace “graduated” from the program, a reformed man. “Never again,” said he, “shall I throw a rock through a Mexican restaurant window demanding money I’m not owed.” There were tears aplenty as Wallace boarded a bus for a new life in a new city. And once again, decarceration and deinstitutionalization had prevailed!
And then last week in Los Angeles Wallace threw rocks Sharpied with “pay up!” through the windows of more than a dozen Jewish restaurants throughout the city.
Perhaps Albuquerque’s “mental health” facilities are as crappy as everything else in that town.
Poor Jews; their tunnels destroyed in NYC, their restaurants destroyed in L.A. Like young Kamala Harris at a party filled with men who could help her career, Jews are taking it in both ends at the same time.
LIKE FLIES TO FRYPAPER
Continuing the “mental health” thread, remember Steve Stephens? He was a “behavioral health specialist” in Cleveland. In April 2017, Stephens, a black gentleman, got into an argument with his girlfriend. Being a “mental health professional,” he realized that the only way to mend the relationship was to Facebook livestream the murder of a random pedestrian while screaming, “You made me do this, bitch. Happy now?”
After killing a complete stranger (a 74-year-old man), Stephens hightailed it out of Cleveland, as, within hours, his name, face, and car had been plastered across the nation (that’s what happens when you’re on camera doing a murder).
But then Stephens saw a McDonald’s. Yes, he knew he had to flee quick…but…fries!
As Stephens pulled into the drive-through, the workers, who’d seen the APB, recognized him. They called police and—swear to God, this is no joke—kept him there by saying that they were making his fries extra hot, and it would take a few minutes.
The ruse worked. Police arrived, and Stephens shot himself.
The fries went uneaten, a tragic moment in black history (known in black culture as the “Cleveland Race Friot”).
Last week, black actress Taraji Henson, who’s either a more-attractive-than-normal hedgehog or a less-attractive-than-normal human female, went on a whining tour regarding the daily “racism” she faces. Henson, star of the current Color Purple remake, wept at a presser while explaining that even though she gets $10 million a movie, “half goes to Uncle Sam” and “one-third goes to my entourage.”
Because by all means, don’t ever vote Republican (cutting taxes for the rich is literally the only thing that worthless party still does; might as well make use of it), and don’t consider reducing your entourage (is it really necessary to employ ten “weave wranglers”?).
Henson also complained that she’s expected to drive herself to the studio. She declared that she needs “a driver and security” to make sure she gets to work on time.
And she has a point. No matter how badly a black American needs to get somewhere, or get out of somewhere, they will stop for fries.
McDonald’s is missing a huge opportunity; now that every movie and TV show has to be black, have mobile McDs on every set.
Just make sure the fryer is plenty hot; celebrity tantrums are bad enough without putting cold fries in the mix.
BLAQUAFINA
Say goodbye to youth football in California! Sacramento lawmakers (119 Democrats and one Republican who’s certain that this is the year he’ll finally end abortion in the state) are banning “tackle football” for minors.
This is being done “to reduce brain injuries.”
Odd, as the state does nothing to reduce the brain injuries of adults sucker punched by blacks in Oakland.
Should the tackle-ban pass, the only allowable type of football for minors will be “flag football,” which initially excited San Francisco State Senator Scott Wiener, until he saw the “l” in “flag.”
That said, perhaps no-contact football is the better choice in a state where a six-foot, 200-pound teen can identify as a woman and play against girls.
This same California legislature also just approved the use of sewage as drinking water. When presented with two options for dealing with the state’s dry years—No. 1, building more reservoirs to capture rainfall during the record wet years like 2023, or No. 2, drinking poop, the legislators chose No. 2 (once again exciting Scott Wiener), proving that the brain-damage issues run beyond football.
On the plus side, the state’s street-dwelling homeless will now be able to make a decent living supplying “water” to Cali residents.
This is a state where Skittles are being banned because there’s a 0.000007 percent chance the red dye might be harmful to lab rats. But the legislators who’ve spent $10 billion on a “high speed rail” line that goes from your ass to your elbow (that is, of course, sarcasm…there’s still not enough track laid to go that far) assure citizens that the poop will be properly treated before being pumped into their homes.
And if you believe that, you believe that Gavin Newsom observed his own mask mandates.
MEH-HEE-CO? MORE LIKE MEH-SHEE-CO
Last week was not a pleasant one for Mexican President Andrés Manuel Lopéz Obrador (considering the fact that Mexican presidents never have good news to deliver, it’s always best for them to have many names, because their constituents possess such short attention spans, by the time they finish reading the name, they forget what they’re reading about). President Mexican Phone Book was at a political event where he joked about one of the attendees being “a man in a dress.” Turns out “Ru Paul Rodriguez” is a tranny lawmaker from Obrador’s own party! And now President Juan Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt has learned the hard way that you never refer to a tranny as a “man in a dress.”
“I am a woman…and that is not up for discussion,” federal legislator Salma Luévano told the “Mexican press” (a chicken that can hunt-and-peck a typewriter). And now Mexican trannies are in such a huff, they may stage a protest by not leaving for the U.S.
Meanwhile in Ecuador, drug cartels took over a TV station during a live broadcast, to protest the government’s crackdown on crime. Storming the country’s version of CNN (Sí-NN), the thugs demanded the release of imprisoned cartel members and a 24-hour Christina Aguilera channel to celebrate the literal only Ecuadorean to ever do anything culturally popular in the outside world.
Sadly, the hostage drama was for naught, as the TV station is too poor to afford actual cameras, so the cartel members had issued their demands to a tin can on a stick.
As cartel violence rages throughout Ecuador, Peru has sealed its border with the nation, which is kind of like Rain Man moving to a different seat on the short bus because he considers it beneath him to sit next to I Am Sam.
The only thing certain about the current unrest in Ecuador is that it will lead to a million more “refugees” crossing the U.S. border. And lest you fear that the Biden Administration, facing the lowest poll numbers in history on immigration, might slow border crossings in an election year, worry not—Rashida Tlaib had generously donated Hamas paragliders to the invaders.
Flying frijoles…coming soon to NYC.
]]>PLATE OUTTA COMPTON
As Governor Newsom rolls out statewide free healthcare for all illegals, Californians who complain are scolded about how immigrants are needed because their “food is better.”
Well, immigrants giveth and immigrants taketh away.
Or taketh out.
Now that Compton, California—birthplace of gangsta rap—is 72 percent Hispanic, the nature of the city’s crime has changed: Way fewer murders over sneakers, but ¡ay yi yi! don’t be rude when it comes to food. On New Year’s Eve, a rancho of young Compton hombres was having a 1 a.m. “street takeover” (Fast and Furious-style street racing). Though technically illegal, street takeovers are allowed because county DA George Gascon gets sexually aroused by young Mexican men in fast cars. “Ay papi, do donuts on me, hombrecito guapo! Pull my clutch!”
After pointlessly racing in circles for an hour, the Barrio Andrettis found themselves a mite peckish. And wouldn’t you know it, right next to their racing site was Ruben’s Mexican Food, an eatery that, based on its Yelp reviews, has a history of being rude to customers.
So the reveleros drove a car through the storefront and cleaned it out.
Several local news outlets incorrectly reported the looted restaurant as “Ruby’s Bakery,” because whites in the media still can’t accept that Compton’s not black anymore, and it made for better copy to pretend it was some kindly old black woman’s chicken and waffle shop (“Oh lawdy, dey dun stoled my banana puddin’!”).
Security cameras captured the attack. The suspects are described as Hispanic males, medium height. Police are questioning 90 percent of Los Angeles.
Hopefully they’ll have better luck than the cops who still haven’t cracked the case from August, when a deli in the Jewish Pico/Robertson district was broken into after hours.
Though there are still no clues regarding the suspects, cops assume them to be black, because nothing was stolen. Counterintuitive as that may seem, remember that deli food is usually served cold. Cops assume the burglary happened because Jamaal and Darquella saw the sign “Buy Herring Here” and assumed it was a jewelry store.
PASTOR AL PASTOR
With Mexicans making headlines for food stories, blacks are having to up their game.
And boy, did they ever last week in High Point, N.C.
Coming soon from McD’s—the Nappy Meal.
57-year-old local pastor Dwayne Waden rushed to a nearby McDonald’s, where his wife, Latoya Gladney (nothing says “good Christian marriage” like a husband and wife having different last names), was training as a manager. Apparently, she’d called her hubby to complain that one of her young underlings had “disrespected” her on the job, so Pastor Waden, a black gentleman of estimable size, stormed into the kitchen, grabbed the offending coworker (a young black man) by the neck, and tried to stick his face in the deep fryer.
Talk about the world’s worst baptism! You’ve heard of “anointing with oil,” but this is ridiculous.
Pastor Waden, a.k.a. Crispus Attack-us, was arrested by cops. Although his denomination was not released by police, it was likely Mangle-ican. Or possibly Char-ismatic.
His church HQ is now known as the Holy Frica-See.
Martin Luther Singe was booked on charges of assault and beer-battery. He told local media that he was simply following in the footsteps of his hero, W.E.B. Du Boils and the Panfry-African Movement. When asked what he’s going to do with his time in jail, Waden stated that he plans to write his autobiography: The Fryer Next Time.
Perhaps the worst part of the story is, once the young black worker’s head was pulled out of the fryer, he began brawling with his colleagues, complaining that he wasn’t hot enough.
HARVARD BARD
Gone be now our Gay a’ peril. Harvard prez Claudine Gay is finally out following an ever-growing mountain of plagiarism charges. And CNN is mourning the loss, with network hack Matt Egan bitching that all Gay did was steal people’s “words,” but not their “ideas.”
Yes, to CNN, only patent disputes count as plagiarism.
Not that Gay helped her cause by telling supporters to buy her new invention: “Claudine Gay here for ShamWow! Cleans the blood of massacred Jews in half the time!”
Gay should’ve gone on the counteroffensive, asserting that the authors from whom she pilfered actually stole from her! Because that’s the new thing. Blacks are now claiming that a black woman wrote Shakespeare’s works. And while there’s zero evidence of this (of course), there’s no denying that the first drafts of Shakespeare’s classics do suggest black influence.
Henry VI final version:
My brain more busy than the spider weave;
Fear me you but warm the starved snake,
Who will sting your hearts.
Original draft:
My brain more empty than my dyed-hair weave;
Fear me if you no not warm McDonald’s for this starved snake,
Who will sting you with a wet floor sign.
All’s Well That Ends Well:
I knew the young count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to virginity and devours up all the fry it finds.
Was actually…
I knew the young thug to be a dangerous boy named LaSivius, who be fat as a whale in Virginia and devours up all the fries he finds.
And Twelfth Night:
I am an ass: so that by my foes,
And by friends, I am abused,
So that, conclusions to be as kisses,
If your four negatives make your two affirmatives,
Why then, the better for my foes.
Started as…
I gots a big ass; I can’t see my toes,
And by whitey, I am abused,
So that, Caucasians be ass-kissers,
If your four niggatives make your Affirmative Action,
Why then, the better for stank hoes.
THE “NO TRUE CHINAMAN” PHALLUSY
Talk about penis envy.
The Chinese have serious issues with animals and weenies. According to their “medicine,” eating a tiger penis mixed with herbs will increase not just the size of a man’s member, but his sexual stamina as well.
As for the tiger, he goes on to a successful singing career as countertenor in the jungle choir.
In fact, the Chinese trade in penises is wiping out a whole bunch of species. In 2022, officials in Nigeria seized several thousand donkey cocks at Lagos Airport. The donkey dongs were scheduled to be shipped to China, where, again, they’re used in “traditional medicine” (the Chinese believe that if you ingest enough donkey penises, you can bypass Harvard’s anti-Asian quotas because the admissions board will think you’re black).
The trafficking in penises is so prevalent and financially rewarding, Nigeria’s animal population is almost exhausted. So beware; the next “Nigerian Prince” who emails you might be looking for something more than just your credit card number.
The Chinese are so obsessed with animal schlongs, they’ve actually started making their own. Last week a 2018 “study” in the Oxford Journal of Sexual Medicine, published on the National Institutes of Health website, went viral. Turns out the Chins are growing artificial penises on dogs to be harvested for tranny surgery. Then the mutilated dogs are killed (hey, Fauci needs a hobby).
So, to summarize, the Chinese eat penises, make penises, eat dogs, and put penises on dogs.
Mao Zedong would be proud.
Now that California officially mandates “gender neutral” aisles in stores, no word on if stores will also be forced to sell lab-grown Chinese doggy-dicks. Perhaps for once it’s good that something isn’t made in America. But it’s only a matter of time before such conscienceless butchery comes here.
After all, Fauci needs a hobby.
CONGO LINE
Bongo, bongo, bongo, I don’t wanna leave the Congo, oh no no no,
Bingo, bangle, bungle, I got slaughtered in the jungle so the trees could grow!
And since we were just in Nigeria, why not skip over to the Congo to wrap things up?
The Atlantic, always the first to make any black person’s death at the hands of a white a genocide, has taken a new relaxed line regarding actual black genocide.
Yes, if D’Slaymius Jackson tries to rob a white man and gets shot for his troubles, it’s an outrage.
But 3 million dead blacks?
It’s good for the trees!
No joke; last week The Atlantic ran a piece about how the never-ending wars in the Congo have preserved the region’s pristine rainforest. The essay’s author, Atlantic writer Ross Andersen, gives two main reasons why the life-giving trees have thrived even as death has raged around them for decades.
First, it’s because “the perpetrators of genocide seek refuge there.”
The wily Africans have kept the trees standing so that warlords can hightail it to a hiding place like Stepin Fetchit running from a ghost.
“Ficus don’t fail me now!”
The other reason provided by Andersen is that with everyone in the Congo killing everyone else, foreign companies that work forests for timber stay out, as it’s just too dangerous.
Ah, the Congolese; so determined to save trees, they’re willing to kill millions of their own to protect their timber from being harvested.
The spirit of Patrice Lumbermumba lives on.
To be fair, Andersen does seem regretful that the only way to retain the forest is if Congolese keep dying. “What a tragedy,” he writes (cut to a beheaded tribesman: “You’re telling ME!”).
Bookmark the piece and the next time some woke activist tells you that your haircut or word choice or support for cops is “killing black people,” pull up the essay and reply, “Hey—I’m doin’ it for the trees.”
Blacks might have a tough time getting credit, but they sure make excellent carbon credit.
]]>AND ALL OF A SUDDEN, AUTOPSIES MATTER
In 2024, immigration would be the No. 1 winning issue for the GOP, so don’t count on Republicans to touch it with a ten-foot pole.
Still, if any GOPs do want to play their party’s winning hand, they need look no further than Vergilio Aguilar Mendez.
Mendez is the photo that accompanies the encyclopedia entry for “not sending their best.” The 18-year-old Guatemalan “immigrant” is, according to his own attorney, functionally retarded and nonfunctionally violent due to impulse-control issues.
And you’d think that would be bad enough.
Because that would be bad enough.
But remember—the motto of Guatemala, the nation that immediately follows Mexico to the south, is “You think you’ve seen bad enough? Welcome to worse.”
Mendez speaks a bizarre “indigenous” Guatemalan language called Mam (not to be confused with the indigenous language of American cowboys, “Howdy Mam,” or the indigenous language of Jews in blackface, “Mam-mee”). Retarded violent powder-keg Mendez caravanned to the U.S. knowing he speaks a language even Mexicans can’t understand (Guatemalans only exist to give Mexicans someone to look down on…they’re the fat bespectacled pimple-faced high school nerd who allows the thin bespectacled pimple-faced high school nerd to say, “Well, at least I’m not fat”), and what happens next? He trespasses on private property and attacks the cop who tried to question him.
Surely his indigenous cries of “ixtopoctle pterodactypoctle click-click-click quetzquaxtle” should’ve smoothed everything over.
And then, after wrestling with Rainforest Man as he resisted arrest, the cop—a 52-year-old with 26 years on the job—had a fatal heart attack.
And the medical examiner was like, “Ahhh, he had hypertension. He’d have died anyway!”
And the media’s cheering it.
Cut to Derek Chauvin in his isolation cell realizing that the country of his birth would’ve treated him a lot different had he been a foreign brown tard who spoke a dead language.
WEBSTER OF LIES
In keeping with annual tradition, last week Merriam-Webster’s announced its “word of the year.”
Bear in mind that Webster’s isn’t exactly culture-war neutral; this is the “dictionary” that switched the definition of “woman” from “biologically female human” to “whatever men say it is; now don’t worry your pretty little head about it princess and get back in the kitchen.”
So 2023’s “word of the year”?
Authentic.
Webster’s provided some relevant uses of the term from the year’s news:
The white man was forced to stop selling tacos because they’re not authentic unless cooked by a Hispanic.
The Chinese musician provided the most authentic version of Bach’s Cello Suites ever.
The Irish Prime Minister welcomed the newest planeload of Nigerians by saying, “It’s good to have authentic Irish back in their ancestral home.”
Bud Light was attacked by right-wingers for hiring an authentic woman to sell its delicious brew.
Djimon Hounsou was praised for his authentic performance as Frank Lloyd Wright in the Netflix biopic Darchitect.
Hamas activist Mahmoud es Fou-el condemned eyewitness descriptions of rape at the Nova music festival as not authentic. “They say the women screamed,” Fou-el told the AP. “That’s false; we covered their mouths.” Then he paused and said, “Oh, crap…”
“Webster’s definitions are not authentic,” said everyone in the world who cares about words.
The runner-up for word of the year was fryzee—“A frenzy brought on by fries served at subpar temperatures.” See also: brawl weavil—“The shed exofilament littering the floor following a fryzee.”
THE BIONIC MENSCH
Elon Musk has a robot rebellion on his hands. Last week in Austin, a robot that was programmed to “grab and move car parts” decided it preferred to grab and move human parts. The robot violently seized a human worker (who, ironically, was just about to activate software to disable the grab-bots, but he was running late because Travis County mandates a two-hour meth break before each shift), “pinned the man,” then “sank its metal claws into the worker’s back and arm.”
The worker lost a large chunk of flesh. And while pundits are making the easy-joke “rise of the machines” quips, it’s interesting to note that the amount of flesh the worker lost measured exactly one pound.
With his enthusiastic Twitter platforming and amplification of Jew-hatred and Holocaust denial, Elon may have pushed the Jews a little too far. Would it be a surprise if the people who crippled Iran’s entire nuclear industry with Stuxnet could create software that turns Musk’s robots into Shakespeare’s flesh-hungry Jew?
Behold, Shynet.
Coming in 2024: The Terminatorah.
“If you prick us, we do not bleed…YOU DO.”
The mass production of Jew-bots would certainly make life harder for street thugs; NYC hospitals would be flooded with black men with busted hands (“Man, dat Jew I sucka punched gots a jaw o’ steel!”).
So perhaps Musk’s best move, if he wants to mend fences after a year in which he repeatedly found himself at odds with organized Jewry, is to assembly-line Jewish cyborgs.
Sure, there’ll be ancillary problems; the “cybergs” will use their wealth and guile to steal all the blonde gentile sex robots, but hey, there are always gonna be trade-offs.
THE FRYNAL SOLUTION
Of course, it’s all fun and games to joke about Musk’s killer robots, but here’s an AI story that’s disturbingly true. McDonald’s was so badly plagued in 2023 by black violence over cold fries, the company is literally working on anti-cold-fry AI to stem the losses incurred via employee injuries.
According to The Verge, “McDonald’s is partnering with Google to deploy generative AI beginning in 2024” to ensure that “large orders of fries are delivered hot.”
“McDonald’s isn’t specific about how the AI will be used,” but “the system will help managers quickly spot and enact solutions to reduce business disruptions.”
Because surely it takes a robot to tell a black customer from a white one.
Meanwhile, the NY Post published a “hack” to ensure that your McDonald’s fries are scalding-hot every time: Just specify “no salt,” which means the workers have to make a batch especially for you. It’s a neat trick, but unlikely to help, because (a) blacks love salt like they love hypertension and diabetes, and it’s unlikely that potential brawlers will comprehend that they can add the salt themselves after receiving the order, and (b) thugs are unlikely to read the Post because they can’t read at all.
It’s impressive the extent to which, from Google to the Post, there’s an ongoing quest to stop cold-fry violence. Young blacks are America’s foodies, accent on the “dies.” On Christmas Day, a black vagrant with a lengthy rap sheet stabbed two South American tourists who were dining at a Grand Central Station eatery (Cavern on the Spleen, which offers a bird’s-eye view of commuters crushed and disemboweled after being pushed onto the tracks by schizos).
The vagrant, “Father Christmassacre,” asked to sit next to “the crackers,” only to declare that he wanted “all white people dead” as he stabbed the two young Paraguayan diners.
The tourists are expected to survive, and they’ll have wonderful tales to tell back home about how the fact that American blacks thought they were “crackers” confirmed everything they’d ever read about the genius of American blacks.
HOLIDAY ROADKILL
On Dec. 27, pro-Hamas protesters in the U.S. rolled out a nationwide airport blockade in which noble leftists fighting for the right of Muslims to rape and murder Jews linked arms and prevented entry to LAX, JFK, and O’Hare, keeping travelers from their flights.
The normally busy airports became so deserted, Sam Brinton had to obtain luggage by buying it at a store.
This capped a year in which “climate activists” in the U.K. and Europe (including Greta Thunberg, a.k.a. “the dwarf from Twin Peaks as a tranny”) made a cottage industry out of blockading highways, “slow-walking” traffic on busy streets, defacing buildings, and vandalizing museums.
So last week the AP decided to run a piece explaining how protests that involve violence and the use of force are actually the most important facets of a well-functioning democracy.
And the hack writer they chose to pen the piece?
Jill Lawless.
Because apparently Carl Chaos, Annie Anarchic, and Bob Barbarous were unavailable.
Lawless argues that even though, in the U.K., it’s great that anyone who misgenders a tranny gets tossed into prison, the people who must never be touched by law enforcement are “activists who have blocked roads and bridges, glued themselves to trains, splattered artworks with paint, sprayed buildings with fake blood, doused athletes in orange powder and more to draw attention to the threats posed by climate change.”
She describes these “activists” as “peaceful,” which would’ve been 2023’s largest and most pungent pile of verbal BS had Jonathan Majors not called himself “a great man.”
To be fair to the pro-Hamas protesters, they do represent a step up for violent activists, because whereas BLM “cops are genociding blacks” militants and Thunberg “the earth is on fire” radicals campaign for phony crises, at least Hamas protesters are correct that their buddies are being killed…it’s just that nobody cares and any chance that somebody might start to care is quickly extinguished when a gang of tablecloth-wearing lunatics makes you late for your flight back home.
And with that, The Week That Perished wishes you safe travels and a joyous New Year.
May your fries be hot and your Thunbergs cold,
May you age better than Biden as you grow old.
May your life be less chaotic than GOP leadership,
And longer in tenure.
Thank you for your readership.
See you in 2024!
]]>ART-IS-ANAL CHRISTMAS
Sometimes conservatives come across like flat-earthers, in that they fail to see the curve. Last week’s outrage-du-jour involved a video posted by Her Lordship Dr. Jill Biden Ph.D. Ed.D. Esquire Esquivel. The video showed a breezy Nutcracker-themed tap routine performed by a New York dance troupe in the Christmas-decorated halls of the White House.
For some reason, conservatives declared it the greatest affront to Christmas since 1985’s Santa Claus: The Movie (never heard of it? Exactly). The fury appears to emanate from a belief on the part of rightists that the dancers’ costumes were Hunger Games–themed, when in fact they were based on Tchaikovsky Nutcracker characters.
It would be nice if the self-proclaimed “defenders of Western culture” actually knew Western culture (several of the more savvy conservatives, like Ann Coulter and “beloved” Takimag scribe Drunkowitz Dwarfenberg, took contrary positions, praising the video).
Grading on a curve, considering the extent to which Hollywood and other leftist institutions mangle beloved traditions, the fact that the video contained no twerking or same-sex snogging makes it based. At least based enough not to bitch about. Especially as the Christmas video suggested by Pete Buttigieg and Maxine Waters would’ve involved Lizzo shooting sugarplums out of her rectum as Sam Brinton dressed as Rudolph humps the leg of Rachel Levine playing Tranta Claus in a dildo workshop staffed by illegal Hondurans.
That said, far-leftists did get the Christmas video of their dreams…make that reams…as a legislative aide to Sen. Ben Cardin recorded an anal sex video in the Hart Senate Building (now known as the Hard Senate Building). The donner of gay apparel, Aidan Maese-Czeropski (ironically, AIDS and Maese-Czeropski is the clinical term for end-stage HIV), has been fired, not for violating the sanctity of the Senate but for not offering Cardin a reach-around.
Still, the news isn’t all bad for the Little Cummer Boy: He’s already landed a Netflix Christmas show. It involves the Island of Misfit Sex Toys, and the less said here, the better.
HA-MESS
Mr. Jill Biden was aroused from his cryo-chamber last week for a fundraiser in Beverly Hills. Due to threats by Palestinian beheaders-of-peace, the area surrounding the event was closed to traffic the entire weekend. Exactly what a Jewish neighborhood wants during Hanukkah.
The Biden shindig was supposed to be “star-studded,” but other than host Steven Spielberg, the only “celeb” who showed up was Lenny Kravitz. You know it’s a lousy celebrity event when the guy who played Mr. Belding would’ve gotten A-list seating.
Meanwhile, a pro-Gaza “comedy show” in Brooklyn hosted by “Muslim comedian” Ramy Youssef drew Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, and Cara Delevingne (the scowling toff-nosed Brit of royal lineage best known for inventing “resting-bitch-of-Buchenwald face”).
And Youssef was on fire that night (literally; the Molotov cocktail he planned to throw at Jews went off in his hands).
His material was actually quite strong.
“October 7th proved the old stereotype that Jewish children are always a-head of their class.”
“Say this about the Nova music festival; in terms of female-targeted marketing, it had solid penetration!”
“Hostages are like Pringles; you can’t take just one. And nobody wants to give ’em back after they’ve been used.”
Finally, in London, Eric Clapton (who long ago abandoned “keep Britain white” for “to hell with Britain; I’m fightin’ for Arabs now”) held a pro-Hamas concert, in which he demanded that Israel stop the shelling.
Clapton’s desire to end the bombing is understandable; he has an unfortunate history with objects falling from the sky.
MEATHEAD-OF-STATE
Democrats are increasingly concerned about Biden’s age. Dude’s so old, his Secret Service codename is Methuselah (which is better than Hunter’s codename, Smoking-meth-uselah). Voters worry that a second Biden term might be compromised by the fact that America relies on China for its supply of Depends. So Team Biden’s hard at work crafting propaganda about how the elderly can do anything a young’un can.
And now the propaganda’s progressed to litigation.
Meathead Movers is a gimmicky California moving company, in operation for over 25 years, in which buff college athletes looking to earn a few extra bucks put on a “show” while moving furniture, fridges, and such. They flex, jerk, pose, and jog when not carrying an item.
For California gays, Meathead Movers is the perfect way to “pop the cork” in a new home on moving day.
The Biden administration is suing Meathead Movers for not employing the elderly as movers (not as clerks, but movers). To be clear, even California, a state where you can be sued for discrimination for not having a token black at your wedding or serving “bland-ass” potato salad, sees nothing improper with the gimmick of a moving company comprised of bodybuilders.
In legal filings, Biden’s EEOC claims that it’s “ageist” to suggest that an 81-year-old can’t single-handedly carry a couch on his back like a 20-year-old muscle-head.
This from a president what gets a hernia lifting an ice cream cone.
Of course, once you claim that men can get pregnant and menstruate, you gotta seek new heights of unreality.
Should Meathead Movers be forced to hire oldies, it’s likely that the customer experience will be diminished.
Mover: “Help! I’m trapped under this terrible apparatus!”
Customer: “It’s a toaster.”
Mover: “Call FDR! Call the WPA! My spleen’s crushed!”
Hopefully, Biden’s newest idiotic move will spark a Democrat-on-Democrat war, as West Hollywood gays mourn the loss of seeing large packages move their large packages.
PITCHING WU, CATCHING POO
Poor Michelle Wu. The Taiwanese-American mayor of Boston was doing so well. Scientist parents, high school valedictorian, perfect SAT and ACT scores, she even managed to get into Harvard without fellating an admissions administrator (these days, that’s the only way around Ivy League Asian quotas). As mayor, Wu effortlessly balanced motherhood with her political duties (she was not only the first mayor in the city’s history to give birth while in office, she gave birth during her State of the City address, without using a teleprompter).
Such a high achiever! A charmed life, a high-functioning high-IQ go-getter, never failing, always reaching her goals.
Then she put a sensitive task in the hands of a black woman.
Tiger mom, meet cold fry-ger mom.
Wu had a top-secret email to send to city council “members of color”: a clandestine holiday party invite, no whites allowed. Because certainly Wu has more in common with City Councilmember L’Dariuss “Stank-Ass” Odom, who not only failed the SAT and ACT, he didn’t even correctly spell the test names, than she has with some white dude who had to overcome the same quotas she did to get into college.
Wu assigned the task of sending out the sooper-secret email to her assistant, a black queen named Denise DosSantos (originally Denise DosEquis, but she changed it because “that beer be nasty”).
Literally, all this majestic person of color had to do was send the invite to the six “colored” council members, and not the seven white ones.
But that task involved math, so D’oh-Santos sent it to everyone.
To be fair, when she was hired she wasn’t told that her job would involve counting.
So of course now there’s a scandal, as Boston’s whites, who long ago traded effective governance for the ego boost of watching bad actors ape their idiotic accent, are wondering if it’s legal for government officials to exclude other officials based on race.
Holiday tears for Michelle Wu: The last time something yellow sank so quickly in Boston, the British were losing their crates of souchong to the briny depths.
MODS AND MODESTY
In a startling development, social media leftists have decided to respect the privacy of murdered Jews.
Because up till now, anytime leftists would see a propaganda opportunity when trying to paint rightists as Nazis, out came the photos of Holocaust victims—the naked, emaciated, dead, or dying human skeletons at camps like Bergen-Belsen.
Rightist: “I think maybe we should tighten amnesty laws.”
Leftist: “MONSTER! SEE the results of your Nazism. Look at these bare-assed full-frontal zombies plowed into mass graves. This is what your racism leads to, and we owe it to ourselves to forever fixate on and replay the footage of these people who never actually signed releases to become poster-corpses for political fetishes, but hey—I’m certain each one of them would be really happy to know that even in the year 2023, strangers are gawking at their shriveled nads just to dunk on Republicans.”
Weirdly, though, today, as Jews are being kidnapped, tortured, and killed in the present, Meta—parent company of Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, and Cyberdyne Killbots Inc., has decided that showing footage of Hamas savagery must be banned…to respect the dignity of the Jewish victims!
Ain’t that odd…as long as the perpetrators were white, there was never any concern about “dignity” while endlessly replaying footage of naked dying Jews. But now that the perps are Akbars, all of a sudden, one must never show their misdeeds, lest the Jews they’ve tortured or killed be seen in an undignified moment.
Surely the decision has nothing to do with shielding the savage actions of brown folks from public scrutiny.
Meta’s oversight board objected to the removal of Hamas atrocity footage. Fortunately, the Killbots took care of that problem (R.I.P. oversight board). The new board members have promised to be less uppity, though they did suggest a compromise—allow the footage, but use AI to make every Hamas thug look like 1970s Jon Voight.
And every victim like Joy Behar, to make the deaths less disturbing.
]]>MAGILL, A GORILLA
In a coda to the disastrous congressional testimony by U Penn president Liz Magill and Harvard Affirmative Action zombie Claudine Gay during a hearing on anti-Semitism on college campuses, it turns out that both bozos were prepped for their testimony by the iconic law firm WilmerHale.
With Magill ma-gone and Gay grappling with a plagiarism scandal (it didn’t help that her response to the accusation was, “I have nothing to fear but the buck stopping here”), attention has turned to why a firm with such a storied history (infamous, too; WilmerHale defended BP during the oil spill, spinning it as “hey, at least something black can float in the sea!”) would give such terrible prep.
Well, looking back at the firm’s past debate prep work, there’s a definite record of shoddiness.
“President Ford, remember to point out that there’s no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe.”
“Senator Quayle, bring up JFK—Bensten will have no comeback to that.”
“Mr. Perot, just let the Admiral ad-lib. He’ll shine!”
WilmerHale’s “crisis management” chief, Alyssa DaCunha (a surname that sounds like the worst thing you can call a Puerto Rican’s mother), says she’s proud of her firm’s 2023 record, which includes telling Susan Sarandon “declare that you’re glad Jews are facing hatred; you’ll be a hero in Hollywood,” telling Hamas, “this’ll bring Israel to the bargaining table,” telling NYC Mayor Adams “keep supporting open borders; these ‘transports’ are a one-time stunt,” and telling Hunter Biden, “don’t worry—between your daddy, the WaPo, and the NY Times, you’ll never see a courtroom.”
It means many worries,
For the rest of your days.
It’s our intelligence-free philosophy,
DaCunha Matata!
TRANS-ATLANTIC
From Atlantic to Pacific, gee the trannies are terrific!
There’s no place like homo for the holidays, and on two different coasts, that old saw proved true, thanks to men who cut off their weenies with old saws.
In Seattle, where public schools have ceased teaching math, reading, and science in order to “level” white students with the Third Worlders imported by Biden, a 10th-grade “educator” at Chief Seattle High gave students a test with questions like “true or false: all men have penises” and “true or false: only women can get pregnant.”
Students who gave the scientifically correct answers were failed. Not just because they violated tranny ideology, but because the fact that they understood the questions meant they could read, a no-no at Chief Seattle High.
BTW, one of the Chief’s best-known quotes, “There is no death, only a change of worlds,” has been altered by the school to “There is no gender, only a change of penises.”
Seattle also said, “What is man without the beasts?”
Well, not an Englishman.
Over in England, ordinary citizens are routinely jailed for daring to say there are only two genders. But you know who didn’t get jail time? Liam Brown, a 25-year-old Dorset gentleman who’d been terrorizing the countryside raping calves on cattle farms. One local farmer noticed that a high number of his calves were dying, but not from any identifiable cause. Concerned, he set up a matrix of motion-activated alarms on his farm, and he found the answer, though he likely regrets that he did.
Brown would sneak onto farms in the middle of the night, bind the calves, assault them, and flee.
The farmer caught Brown pants-down “in the act.” But the court refused to punish him beyond a £600 fine.
That the judge’s name was The Honourable Cesar Bovyne N. Shaggitsbotham may or may not have contributed to the leniency.
So that’s England; misgender someone, immediate prison. Rape and kill calves, meh, to each zir own.
Also, a word of advice: Never buy veal from Dorset.
FESTIVAL OF BLIGHTS
The Hanukkah candle-lighting prayer begins “Baruch atah Adonai”…but this year, it’s more like “Baruch atah Adon-OY!”
The last time Jews had such a bad “festival of lights,” Goebbels’ thugs were burning down their temples.
Due to threats from angry Akbars, their leftist allies, and even a few far-rightists who hate Jews but lack the nads to take action unless they can hide behind people of color, Hanukkah celebrations around the U.S. have been canceled. Menorah lighting ceremonies in Virginia, Louisiana, California, and D.C. have been scrapped.
The Washington Post, always at the cutting edge of fecal journalism, ran a piece about how these ceremonies aren’t being canceled because of Muslim threats or anti-Semitism, but because Jews are so ashamed of what Israel is doing in Gaza, they don’t want to celebrate anyway.
It’s the best WaPo piece since 2022’s “Salman Rushdie Didn’t Want That Extra Eye Anyhow.”
But the grand prize for shutting down Hanukkah goes to the Poles, where a leading far-right politician burst into a menorah-lighting ceremony in Parliament and snuffed the flames with a powder-filled fire extinguisher, which clogged the airways of attendees, causing breathing problems.
Baruch atah adenoids.
The politician, Grzegorz Braun (whose credentials as a “Polish nationalist” seem questionable as his surname doesn’t have idiotic consonants where they shouldn’t be), told reporters that Jews are “satanic” and Hanukkah is “Satan-worship.”
It’s great to see Poland moving on from being a global joke.
Did you hear about the Polish guy who tried to celebrate Hanukkah? He lit his Minolta, and ruined his holiday snaps. He tore his fingernails trying to get to the chocolate center of an actual gold coin. He danced the hora, then got beaten by her pimp when he wouldn’t pay.
Baruch atah Adonai-yi-yi.
BAH BAH BLACK SLEEP
Sandman? More like KLANNEDman.
Turns out sleep is racist.
Dr. Dayna Johnson of Emory University’s Rollins School of Public Health is on a nationwide crusade to spread the word that blacks can’t sleep because of racism. According to her, the only time her fellow blacks can slumber is via a right cross from a McDonald’s cashier.
In an interview last month with U Wisconsin’s Judith Siers-Poisson (and seriously, if you’re ever in Paris, you just have to try the Siers-Poisson), Johnson declared that whitey’s “racism and micro-aggressions” are preventing blacks from sleeping. Worse still, blacks develop sleep problems “vicariously” by reading about racism that happens to other blacks.
Seems like an argument to take Vox, Salon, and The Atlantic offline. Stop publishing “racism is everywhere” pieces, and maybe DeShawn can get de shuteye.
Also, it’s too bad Johnson doesn’t work at the Henry Rollins School of Public Health; five minutes of his pretentious “poetry” puts anyone to sleep.
Johnson lacks any actual evidence for her black sleeplessness theory, but she makes up for it by ending every sentence with “right?”
“…delaying sleep and interrupting sleep, right?”
“…we’re talking about interruptions in any one of those dimensions, right?”
“It’s a large range—between 4% and 80% of certain populations, right?”
“It’s heterogeneous, right?”
“We’re really faced with two major issues at that time, right?”
“We were encountering a lot of civil unrest, right?”
“The participants talked about how it could have been them, right?”
“This is due to historic racist policies such as redlining, right?”
“Sleep is linked to pretty much everything, right?”
“So we have a healthier workforce, right?”
“You can work one job and increase that opportunity for sleep, right?”
It’s unclear who started the fad of vacuous talking heads ending every sentence with “right?” but almost certainly it was WilmerHale.
That said, if blacks are having trouble sleeping, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Here’s a classic poem about a scrappy little honors student whose sleepless Christmas Eve led to a night of magical wonder…
A VISIT FROM ST. NIGGALESS
’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the crib,
Only DeShawn was stirring, nibbling on a McRib.
’Twasn’t much of a meal, yet still it was all,
That remained from the evening’s McDonaldland brawl.
Fries were served tepid, so DeShawn and his friends,
Leapt o’er the counter to kick some rear ends.
When the cops came a-running, DeShawn quickly did leave.
But LaQuanda was captured, as was her weave.
Now DeShawn sat bereft, with no scalding spuds,
When up on the roof came a series of thuds.
“Could it be Santa? ’Cause that’d be great,”
Said DeShawn, as he grabbed his loaded .38.
“I’ll steal that damn sack, keep it for myself,
And if Santa complains, I’ll put one in his elf.”
Climbing onto the roof, DeShawn reacted with dread,
“Aw damn, it ain’t Santa, just some homeless crackhead.”
Laying a finger aside of his nose,
The stranger snorted some coke and recited his prose.
“I ain’t no damn crackhead; shut up wit’ them lies,
I’m BLM Santa, and I brung you hot fries.”
“BLM Santa?” cried DeShawn, “I must be trippin’,
I thought you wuz a myth, like a black diner who’s tippin’.
But you totally real, with Rudolph’s red-nose a’ lightin’!”
“That’s a pitbull,” said Santa, “blood-red from dog-fightin’.”
And with that, Santa produced a pallet of fries,
Hot as Hades itself, each pouch super-size.
“Merry Christmas,” said Santa, as he climbed in his sleigh.
Then a great noise rang out; DeShawn shot him anyway.
“Sorry, Santa,” he said, “for this violent endeavor,
But with your magical bag, I’ll have hot fries forever.”
And who can blame him? The temptation too strong to pass on,
“So I’m dropping the charges,” said D.A. George Gascon.
And they heard DeShawn exclaim as the court sat in disquiet,
“Merry Crisp-spuds to all, and to all, a good riot.”
BAYSQUASH
For blacks, swimming in the ocean can be hazardous.
So can sitting on the beach, apparently—odd as that may seem, what with their factory-installed sunblock.
In 2019, Jerrid Powell was sunbathing on the Santa Monica sand when a “Baywatch” lifeguard vehicle ran him over after mistaking him for a beached sea lion with nappy hair (Nappus Retariidae, an invasive species known for begging tourists for fries, then killing them over the temperature).
Powell sued the city and, after several years of litigation and Covid delays, was awarded $700,000.
And how did he use the dough? A pilgrimage to Ghana to visit the birthplace of Ebola? A personal 24-hour fry cook?
Nope. He started killin’ folks using the new car he bought from the settlement.
For a guy who claimed to be crippled, as a serial killer Powell covered a lot of ground. In a three-day period he murdered a suburban homeowner in a follow-home robbery in San Dimas (47 miles from Santa Monica), then three homeless men in Downtown L.A. (33 miles from San Dimas), then he drove to Beverly Hills (14 miles from Downtown) to hunt for wealthy follow-home victims. Fortunately, BH’s network of street cameras “pinged” his car, which had been ID’d during the homeless murders.
And once again, blacks prove to be America’s greatest creatives. Any white trucker can kill hookers along an interstate. But Powell switched cities, victim profiles, and MOs just enough to baffle the county for almost a week.
But in the end, it was the car the taxpayers of Santa Monica bought him that gave him away.
An ironic ending worthy of O. Henry: “Gift of the Magi”? More like “Grift of the Mazda.”
EXTRA! EXTRA! BLEED ALL ABOUT IT!
Like a discarded weave following a McDonald’s brawl, this story is hard to untangle.
A.V. Rockwell is a black female film director. Her whole shtick is casting the blackiest of films with the blackiest of actors. Dark-skinned only! Forget Halle Berry; bring on Fred Berry. For her recent film A Thousand to One (a tale of noble black people being noble), Rockwell cast Teyana Me Shay Jacqueli Shumpert Taylor in the lead role. Taylor isn’t an award-winning actress, but she is the three-time winner of the annual Inglewood “Damn You Name Be Long, Bitch” contest.
Stars of Taylor’s “magnitude” rely on stand-ins when the crew is setting up shots before filming…and lighting Taylor is particularly difficult as she absorbs light like a supernova. Rockwell hired one of the movie’s blue-black extras, Jameelah Michl, to be Taylor’s double.
And Michl was so “grateful” for the bump in pay from extra to stand-in that she began stalking Rockwell. According to The Wrap, Michl bombarded Rockwell with unwanted gifts like “love letters, an Aladdin necklace, a ‘best director ever’ mug, a Black Lives Matter hoodie and a photo of Langston Hughes” (she even included a gift certificate for Langston Hughes-brand Ice Cream Deferred—“guaranteed not to dry up”—raisins optional). When Rockwell asked Michl to leave her alone, the deranged stalker threatened violence.
Finally, the besieged director filed a restraining order, which took an extra hour to process as county clerks couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that a black person named Rockwell felt like somebody’s watching her.
In response, Michl did the only logical thing: She went to the home of Rockwell’s white business associate, “socially conscious BLM filmmaker activist” Michael Latt, knocked on the door, and shot him in the chest.
Latt’s production company is called Lead With Love; the name will be retained after his death, but the pronunciation of the first word will be changed to reflect the object lodged in his heart.
Meanwhile, nobody saw Rockwell’s film anyway, so the whole thing was an exercise in futility…and fatality.
A STEAMING PILE OF BULL(ION)
Gen-Xers who grew up with bad 1970s and ’80s TV action shows knew four things:
(1) Quicksand was everywhere. Dealing with quicksand was like getting a traffic ticket; when you become an adult, it’ll happen at least once.
(2) Jewel thievery was really rampant in Oahu. Every week, Magnum P.I. would recover priceless gems, without ever once asking, “Why the hell would the Prince of Monaco bring the Royal Scepter of House Grimaldi to an effing beach resort?”
(3) In L.A., the defining crime was art theft. Again and again, Charlie’s Angels would pursue art thieves…in a city that, at the time, was world-renowned for having the fewest and worst art galleries of any city its size.
(4) And finally, everyone wanted gold bullion. Gen-X kids likely had no idea what gold bullion actually is, but they knew that every week the Six Million Dollar Man had to retrieve some. Stolen gold bars neatly stacked in a getaway van became the defining image of dastardly criminality on uninspired TV shows of the era.
And last week Democrat senator Bob Menendez, a man so corrupt African dictators look at him and go daaaayum, was caught with a neatly stacked pile of gold bars in his home that apparently came from a heist at the house of one of the New Jersey politico’s donors.
Turns out every gold bar has a unique serial number, which is why bullion thieves are so easy to catch.
Ain’t it a shame? The government spent six million dollars on a bionic man, when all they really needed was a computer nerd with an Excel spreadsheet.
Menendez (who, ironically enough, is currently being dogged by the Senate version of a bionic man—John Fetterman, “a man barely alive” reborn as a dynamic superhero)—offered no explanation for the presence of the bullion. He then grabbed the bars and ran from investigators…only to get trapped in the infamous Paramus quicksand fields.
Gen-Xers could’ve warned him.
HARMBURGER WITH A GENOCIDE OF FRIES
How the worm has turned.
Or, in this case, how the water buffalo has Turnered. As in, Nat Turnered.
Remember the infamous “water buffalo” case?
January 1993, U Penn. Israeli-born student Eden Jacobowitz was in his dorm, studying hard for his degree in Abrasive and Shady Business Operation. Outside the dorm, young women from the university’s black sorority, Smelta Smelta Fry, were protesting something or another by banging pots and drums.
Every dude in the dorm began yelling at them, but it was Jacobowitz who landed the money shot: “Shut up, you water buffalo! If you’re looking for a party, there’s a zoo a mile from here.”
The young Jew was “prosecuted” by the university for hate speech (and sued in civil court by water buffaloes defamed by the comparison).
Thirty years later, the black strikes back. This time it’s Israeli students being hate-speeched by blacks at U Penn and elsewhere. Last week, a herd of smug smiling elite university presidents appeared before Congress to answer for virulent anti-Semitism on their campuses. Harvard president Claudine LGBTQ (correction: “Gay”), who’s black, refused to declare “calling for the genocide of Jews” an actionable offense at her syphilitic Affirmative Action DEI diploma mill.
Perhaps calling for the genocide of water buffaloes would’ve gotten more of a rise from her.
Meanwhile, last week the black president of the NYU Student Bar Association, Ryna Workman (not to be confused with “Tryna Work, Man,” the complaint of whites when their studies are interrupted by water buffaloes), was booted from her position thanks to her stunning and brave comments that Israel deserved the October 7th rapes and murders.
Workman was denounced by Republican and Democrat students alike, leaving her politically unaffiliated.
But the good news is, if she’s looking for a party, there’s a zoo a mile from there.
THE PEOPLE’S (SHOT IN THE) TEMPLE
You know what always works well? White guys who launch leftist cults for blacks.
As the Venezuelan army is discovering during its military annexation of Guyana, there are still bug-eyed frightened black folks in the forests hiding behind trees going, “Is it okay to come out yet?”
From Jim Jones to David Koresh to Charlie Manson, charismatic, messianic whites who build cultist compounds to fight for “social justice” are nothin’ but trouble.
Enter “Fergie” Chambers, heir to the $34 billion Cox Enterprises basic-cable fortune (i.e., the house that Walker, Texas Ranger reruns built). Chambers is using his $250 million share of the inheritance to build a “revolutionary communist compound” in Massachusetts where “people of color” can arm themselves for the coming war against whites and Jews.
Cox, as you may recall, is the cable carrier that siphoned the bandwidth of its customers in 2020 to punish them for being bourgeois TV watchers instead of MAOIST REVOLUTIONARIES!
It’s the “reverse glory hole” dynamic: Cox sucks people.
In a piece last week in The Free Press, “Fergie” made it clear that his compound is gearing up for violence. The FP interviewed a bunch of Massachusetts locals, but since every response sounded like “yabba dabba daaaabba doooo,” it was difficult to gauge the reaction of the compound’s neighbors.
However, a dialect translator, one “M. Wahlberg,” told the FP that the locals are quite unhappy about the Jonestown-in-the-making next door.
In theory, white Americans troubled by the fact that the Cox fortune is being used to plot their murder might consider abandoning Cox for other carriers.
But in practice…hey, in this episode of Walker, Chuck Norris roundhouses a guy and then says, “He got his kicks.”
Nobody in their right mind is gonna trade such brilliant witticisms for some idiotic protest against a company planning to literally exterminate them.
And once again, whites are yabba dabba screwed.
]]>