The Blackboard Jungle Monsters
It's not exactly "the bad kid was reformed and now has a future thanks to my heroism" but in today's U.S.S.A. a bathhouse patron being accused of wanting to build an oil derrick is the closest thing to a happy ending you're going to get.
Someone's doing the raping and it's not Whites who drive pick-up trucks.
I like to think that immediately after writing this the author either picked up a big paycheck while laughing hysterically or looked at what had been written, realized it was pure drivel and then took his own life.
Truly we are their children. Sophisticated and intelligent, trusting and cooperative, outnumbered by their lessers, sought out as mates (muh dikk) and eventually bred into annihilation. It seems like there might be some sort of lesson here. Hey, is that negro ball on the electronic synagogue? Go watch the jumping monsters, everything is fine.
We need fewer Whites in everything, but we also need Whites to act as a holocaust goat for all of the failings of our multi-cult dung heap. "Put more schwoogies in the poster!" demands the wise merchant, but the end result is still a Thought Crime.
Beneath the wheels of jewish "diversity," Western nations knocked down like bowling pins by the disastrous jewish century. Spiritual sickness and foreign invasion, cancerous individuality and violent brown fanatics. The center can not hold, the slouch toward the candlelight vigil, indignant desert aliens, rough beasts and sentient trucks, stony sleep on broken blood-splattered pavement.
Bring on the rapping yiddish grannies! The jew demon is sure cool and with it, I think I'll vote for the destruction of my homeland. It's also surprising the carpetbag club would bring up the holohoax to make a political point, something they're normally extremely reluctant to do.
We all know the media is on Trump's side and protects him as much as possible. Can I ask what color the sky is in your world, hymie?
A negro was voting, otherwise the booths were empty. Boy is he going to be disappointed to discover there's no "He look like me" choice, just Miss Ann. I was finished in about twenty seconds, a phrase I never expected to report with pride, but here we are. With that I'd done everything I could do. Feed it into the machine, beep beep, here's hoping some sort of fraud didn't erase or change it. If we win this thing by one vote you can all thank me.
You don't need a framed scrap of toilet paper from prestigious Deakin University to realize that your eyes are not lying to you. We really don't want to interact with the shit-colored biological weapons in our midst, despite endless propaganda from the traveling merchant encouraging unnatural and suicidal behavior.