Boy, what in the fuck are you talking about?

You sound like you got too much shrimp crammed into your mouth, Bubba Gump. Listen real good now, son, because I ain't a man who likes to repeat himself. You are nothing. You do not matter. You aren't even a statistic. You're the kind of guy who can go to a good old down home Texas pool party and get himself taken out of the gene pool by the boys in blue, and no one will bat an eye. Someday soon, someone with an itchy trigger finger is gonna see you walking out of whatever convenience store will accept your food stamps and decide to stand his ground, and not a single person anywhere will give a fart in a windstorm. You understand, boy?

You ain't gonna ever be anyone's poster boy. You ain't ever gonna make headlines. You lost the genetic lottery when you slid out of a zambo twat, and you've been losing ever since. And that ain't my fault, boy, so don't go trying to call me racist or whatever else you social justice dipshits feel like throwing around these days, trying to get more hits on your blogs or whatever you do. That's society. Things was that way before my daddy's daddy was born, and before YOUR daddy's daddy avoided gettin' dragged behind a truck long enough to throw some rapeseed into your grandmaw. This is just the way things is.

What you need to do is read yourself your bible, and read yourself your United States Constitution. The real one, not the one they've done edited in the years since in an effort to give everyone a pussy where their cocks should be. The way I see it, and the way God sees it, is I'm 40% more of a man than you can ever wish to be, son. I'm a human being and you're an animal. I have dominion over you as described in the book of Genesis.

Now, we can sit here all day waiting for your monkey ass to evolve, or we can just move along with our lives. I'm sure you got a bunch of kids to feed somewhere, right?




Kickout.