30 October 2011

THE ATTACK OF THE TAXI

Here we are again. A new week. A new observation. About the same old crap. But this week I have a personal story for you. It is going to be a horror story of black on white abuse.

When I hear people say that there is no such thing as race, all the people of the world are exactly the same. It is just lack of opportunity that makes some races act retarded. And other races act like parasitic tape worms. And still other races run around preying on the defenseless like buzzards.

It makes me wonder if the people saying that are retarded themselves. Or are they just blind, deaf and dumb? Maybe they are on hallucinogenic drugs. Or maybe they are dodo birds disguised as humans. Whatever their deficiency, it is pitiful to behold.

Saying humans are all the same is like saying a Shetland pony should be just as able to win the Kentucky Derby as a thoroughbred. It's like saying a Rottweiler and a Collie have the same traits. A canary and an eagle are the same bird. It is just a trick of the light that makes them appear to be different.

If you are a person who believes that all of the human races are the same, you are not only retarded, you are stupid. You are an embicile. You are a veggie. Your mother should have flushed you and kept the afterbirth. You are dumber than a day old hog. And worst of all, you are probably a white liberal!

You are not only going to end up in hell when you die, you are going to be cheated by Jews, raped by Negroes, and robbed by Mexicans before you get the luxury of going to hell. So you had better try to enjoy your pitiful, delusional existence on this rock before you make your trip into total oblivion.

Now. Back to my horror story. I was recently in Memphis, Tennessee, which according to the internet is sixty-one percent black at the time of this incident. I was sitting at a red light in front of the Sun Records studio minding my own business waiting for the light to change to green when I heard a crunching noise and was shaken around.

I peered into my rear view mirror and an empty, white, Cadillac taxi had just nailed me in the left rear bumper. So I got out to investigate why an empty, white Cadillac taxi had attacked me for no apparent reason and lo and behold, there were two black gentlemen in the back of it, pushing it across this busy, four lane intersection. No one was inside steering or braking this runaway white Cadillac taxi.

Now, immediately, from out of nowhere, there were fifty black gentlemen milling around the accident and trying to push the Cadillac, which was firmly attached to my rear bumper and was not moving.

So as I approached the original two gentlemen who were pushing a white, Cadillac taxi around with no one inside, I offered to call the police since their car was a wreck and the bumper on the vehicle that I was driving was undamaged, but they would have none of that.

I noticed that one of the gentlemen was an east Indian while the second was definitely of African descent and their eyes were all bloodshot and watery. They were probably just coming home from their respective jobs where they had been working hard for at least eighteen hours from the look of their watery, red eyes.

They explained that the white, Cadillac taxi had ran out of gas and they were pushing it across this busy, four lane intersection with no one inside, to a gas station, instead of going to get a can of gas and take it back to the car. It was the logical thing to do. Anyone can realize that.

Since they didn't want the police involved and their left front fender was impaled on my bumper, I got back in my vehicle and backed up a little to make the hole in their fender bigger so they and their protégés could possibly get their gasless taxi unhooked from me. But one of the black gentlemen came up and asked me to pull ahead instead and so I did, bringing most of his front fender with me.

So we were separated and I went on my way, past Nathan Bedford Forrest's gravesite, and I assume that the Negroes with their gasless, damaged taxi continued to make their way on across the busy intersection to the gas station.

So think what you will, but I just can't believe that these black gentlemen whom God designed to live with their sticks and mud huts in the jungles of Africa are realistically up to living in Memphis, Tennessee. Or anywhere else in the civilized world, as far as that goes.

I know that you think that I am racist and mean for thinking that, but unless you happen to be totally witless, deep in your heart, you have to know that it is true. Like the old saying goes; You just can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. No matter how bad you want to and no matter how bad you think that it should be so.

I know, every now and then you can teach one of them to be a doctor or something. Just like you can teach a rat to run through a maze. But if you would bother to expend that same effort on white people, you would have a hundred doctors.

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