International House of Primitives

Please watch the following amazing video.


I'm not sure I'm even worthy to discuss the incredible avant-garde art film I just watched. First of all, the bold decision to film vertically pays off big time, creating a claustrophobic effect that greatly heightens the dramatic tension. The sound consists of what strongly resembles monkey noises or perhaps some lesser primate, with an experimental soundtrack consisting of a series of loud irregularly timed beeps that I can only assume are Morse code for "Push that red button, Mr. Putin." The kinetic motion beneath these stunning layers is memorable, with satisfying property destruction and the sort of immediacy and desperate struggle formerly confined to the local monkey house. "Maybe the jew wasn't entirely honest," I think to myself as I take in the magic.

An IHOP manager was left bloodied after he was attacked by rowdy female patrons who threw punches, chairs, and plates at the worker, according to Tennessee police who are seeking to identify the assailants. 

If the shrieking and violent brown blobs in the high quality footage look like a specific simian and not like every single negro you've ever met, please contact the 90 I.Q. "five oh."

According to cops, the melee touched off early Friday morning at an IHOP restaurant in Memphis after victim Mohammad Al Hourani, 28, asked the group to “please keep it down.”

The fastest way to incite the "mule of the world" to total and complete savagery is to make a polite request, especially one regarding noise levels. Casting aspersions on posterior size would also work. These are proud African Queens who don't need no man, moe-ham-head. Yew donn bee tellin em wat ta dew, mudda fudda.

Al Hourani said he called 911, but before police arrived, he was attacked by one of the suspects near the IHOP’s front door.

This is how my jihad against nigga bodies (Ah! Ah!) began.

As seen in the above video, which was shot by a diner unconnected to the raucous party of five, the manager fought with one woman near a booth while two of her friends threw plates at the worker from point blank range. Al Hourani told cops he was struck in the head several times.

The mighty strength of "diversity." A creature from a distant and backward desert land battles crazed Hottentots against a backdrop of a rapidly collapsing city built by Whites, for Whites. These are our equals, indeed these are our betters. We need fewer Whites in everything. Whites are bad. The jew is very trustworthy, ignore the evidence of your lying eyes, ears and nose.

After the 5’ 8” manager bodyslammed the woman with whom he was tangling, one of the plate throwers launched a chair at Al Hourani.

Well you know something brother, the Hamheadster has no patience for the monkeyshines! Watcha gonna do, Aunt Jemima, when Islamomania runs wild on YOU!

The IHOP employee, who was bleeding profusely from cuts to his head and face, was later transported to a local hospital for treatment of his injuries.

Blood from a stone (cube worshiper).

Al Hourani told officers that “one of the reasons why the suspects got so upset was because he kept calling them sirs even though the suspects were dressed like ladies.” 

LOL. Those ugly monsters are actually female, Moe. I know, I find it hard to believe, too.

Full Story.

You have to leave, sir.

Comments

  1. Lol..."I don' need no MAAAN tellin' me what ta DO!!!"

    The exact phrase uttered by a 70 IQ Baby Mama to a much younger, more naive version of Fled the Undertow when she innocently (foolishly) asked the "mother" of one of her ghetto kindergarten students if "Barkevious' father would be joining us for our parent/teacher conference tomorrow?"

    HO-LEE SHIT! My little faux pas earned me a 20-minute lecture at a volume that could be heard all the way to the front office. Other teachers actually came to my classroom to see what all the fuss was about.

    That day marked yet another milestone in the 3-year-long ghetto teaching assignment now known as "Fled's Red-Pilling Years".

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  2. Well, it's definitely a good thing that you fled the undertow, indeed it is! Just look around yourself at the countless walking-dead who weren't so fortunate. Now, switching from metaphor to physical reality, where fleeing isn't an option, I bid you the strength of the gods, sister, and remind you that you are never alone. We WILL prevail.

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