Tag Archives: racist

What Am I Thankful For

Since today is Thanksgiving, I figured I would share a list of things I am thankful for:

  1. I am thankful that I can say nigger, but honkies can’t
  2. I am thankful for the first of the month
  3. I am thankful that contrary to popular belief pimpin’ is easy
  4. I am thankful that bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks
  5. I am thankful for my strong pimp-hand
  6. I am thankful that white people are such cowards that they won’t call a spade a spade

That’s just a list of small things for which I am thankful. The thing that I am most thankful for is that you stupid crackers brought my ancestors here to scam the shit out of your dumb asses! If you are bored on Thanksgiving, and looking for something to do, leave your list of things you are thankful for in the comments.

Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks to all of you who have been partaking in my version of the truth.

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Posted by on November 24, 2011 in Uncategorized


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The Real Story of Thanksgiving

Since neither me, nor Honkey will be posting much until after the holiday season winds down, I figured I’d drop a massive truth bomb on you for Thanksgiving.

Everybody knows the traditional honkey version of Thanksgiving. Some crackers in funny hats sailed to the New World. When they got here, they didn’t have any slaves, so they almost starved to death. Then some friendly indians came along, and saved all the honkies from a gruesome death at the hands of mother nature. And I think one of them married Pocahontas. A touching story to be sure, but like most things in cracker history, it’s a lie concocted to hide the ugly truth of honkey oppression.

What the honkey euro-centric text books never taught that it was not just a bunch of crackers in funny hats and buckled shoes on the mayflower. They also had about fifty african slaves with them to help them work their fields and clean their houses.

When the Mayflower landed, the African slaves saw their chance. They were in the wilderness, and there was no cracker laws to force them to do anything. When night fell, the fifty African slaves ran away into the wilderness. In less than a week they built a fly fort out of trees and mud. They hunted deer, and caught fish for sustenance. They were shitting in high cotton!

The pilgrims, on the other hand, were livid. Their slaves had run away. There was no one to work their fields, or clean up after them. At first they thought they could survive on their own, but they were sadly mistaken.

Meanwhile, at the slave fort, the newly free slaves were discovered by the local indians. The local indians were angry that the slaves were keeping them up all night banging on their deerskin drums, and encroaching on their hunting lands. The slaves told the indians that they did not want to be there, but the honkies brought them there against their will. The indians, not being familiar with cracker treachery decided to investigate.

When they spoke with the honkies, the honkies told the indians that the only reason they were there was because the slaves escaped. The crackers told the indians that if they would help return their slaves, they would leave, and never come back. This sounded like a fair deal to the naive indians, so they agreed.

When the indian/cracker raiding party approached the slave tree fort, the leader of the honkies shouted for the slaves to submit or be killed. The slaves chose to die rather than to be enslaved again. The indian/cracker coalition exterminated the slaves. The slaves fought valiantly, killing many crackers and indians during the fight, but the combined forces of the indians and crackers, like some sort of ancient Voltron, overwhelmed the slaves.

After the massacre, the honkies invited the indians to their place for a big feast to say thanks for their help with the slave situation. The indians accepted the honkies’ hospitality. When they returned to the cracker settlement, a big party with music, and drinking was had. Then when it was time for the feast, the honkies killed all the indians. Then ate them.

The end. Happy Thanksgiving.


Posted by on November 22, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Why I Don’t Call the Police

As many of you know, black people not calling the police is a tradition that goes back a long time. Black people that call the police tend to get beaten by either the police, or by Tookie and RayRay and them. When the police get called in the hood, one way or another, somebody getting their ass beat. On top of that, everybody knows the police are racist, and probably won’t listen to shit a nigger got to say anyway.

Crackers like to write off stories of black people getting ignored by the police when they are clearly the victims of a heinous crime as the black people probably deserved to be ignored. Well, this is one such story. Once you read it, you will have no other choice but to be convinced that black people ain’t got no business calling the police.

A while back, I had put my garbage cans out by the curb to be collected like I routinely do every now and then. It was a normal day. The sun was shining, the sirens were wailing, the helicopters were flying, and you only heard the odd gunshot every now and then. There was nothing to suggest that I would be the victim of a crime during the night.

When I woke up the next afternoon, I went out to bring my garbage cans back to the house. The only problem was my cans had been stolen. They were probably stolen by some honkey as an initiation into the Ku Klux Klan or something. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I called the police.

After an hour passed, a police officer finally showed up at my door. Can you believe that racist cracker? I mean he pulled his black and white car right in front of my house. I told him under my breath that I had a crime to report, but I did not want my neighbors to know. He pulled his car down the street a ways.

Using the mailboxes as cover, I snuck to where the pig was now. I informed him that my garbage cans had been stolen. He asked how I knew they had been stolen. I told him that I had put them out for my garbage to be picked up, and when I came back to get them, they were gone. Then that racist son of a bitch had the nerve to suggest that I hadn’t paid my garbage bill. That asshole told me to call the garbage company, and if they had not picked up the garbage cans due to non-payment, he would come back and take a report. I tried to protest, but he just drove off.

I was so angry, and appalled at the boldness of this institutional racism. To suggest that just because I am black I don’t pay my bills. I was pissed, but all I could do was storm back to my house.

It was about this time that Tookie and RayRay and them who had been sitting on the curb across the street, approached me. They were pissed that the police had come into the hood, and dorve off their customers. They asked if I had called the police. I said the only thing any sane person could. I told them hell no I didn’t call no racist ass cracker pigs. I told them that the pig had the wrong address when he had stopped at my house, and he said he was looking for old Miss Johnson down the street. That seemed to satisfy them, and they returned to lawn chairs near the curb across the street.

Then, about two in the morning, somebody pulled a drive-by on poor old Miss Johnson. Well, there wasn’t no way I was calling those racist ass pigs back.

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Posted by on November 16, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Why I Will Vote for Herman Cain

Yes, I will vote for Herman Cain in the primary despite all the “sexual harrisment (which during the early 90’s made the long overdue change from harassment), and his obvious blackness”. I am sure some of you loyal readers may be shocked to learn that a guy named “Honkey McCrackerson” would vote for a black guy. Well that’s not my real name, the right reverend told me that if I wanted to work here, I had to take that name. Give me a minute or thirty of your time, and I will attempt to explain my feelings on Herman Cain.

First, let me crack this sexual harrisment chestnut. It is quite simple, really. See, I don’t care if he hit on women. I don’t. Sexual harrisment is not a crime, like say perjury or selling state secrets to the Chinese. Sexual harrisment is nothing more than a vehicle for screeching feminists to promote misandry. I am of the apparently outdated notion that in the grand scheme of things offending someone, anyone, is not that big a deal. In fact, it is my ever so humble opinion that when someone is offended it is more of an indictment of the offended than of the offender. In other words, people who get offended are whiny bitches, and I don’t give a crap about their feelings.

Secondly, before any of you start in on me, yes I am well aware of the historically detrimental effect blacks have had on society the world over. I just don’t think Herman Cain is the average citizen of Detroit or New Orleans. I could be wrong, but I think the fact that Herman Cain is in his current position is a strong indicator that he may be a few standard deviations above the average negro.

Lastly, who else is there to vote for? Rick “you’re soulless if you don’t like illegal immigrants” Perry? Mitt “I’m not entirely sure what my position on gun control, health care, or abortion is” Romney? Ron “I’m not a nut, but most of my supporters are” Paul? I think there are some other people running for the nomination too, but they aren’t important enough for me to ridicule. In all fairness to Dr. Paul, if there is some new information that comes to light that shakes my confidence in Cain, my vote will most likely go to Paul.

Cain claims to be against illegal immigration. He claims to support the Fair Tax. He claims he wants to reduce the size and scope of the federal government. There are no ideal candidates, and frankly, a presidential candidate who was all things to all people would frighten me. Besides, it doesn’t really matter because the country will descend into civil war in ten years anyway.

Rev. Dr. Swift’s Comments

You racist cracker, don’t you know it’s more racist to vote for Herman Cain than any of those other crackers?”

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Posted by on November 3, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Halloween in the Hood

Last night was that honkey holiday, Halloween. While Halloween is about as honkey as honkey gets, my kids still need to get theirs. I took all my kids trick or treating last night, and it was a crash course on dealing with racism in Amerikkka.

I went and picked up Treshawn from his momma. Then I went and picked up Shaquonn from her momma. Finally I went and got the twins, Trelarry and Shalarry from their momma. They are all about seven, or eight, and luckily their mommas all live in the same project.

I told the kids to keep their school uniforms on since I couldn’t find them any costumes that would fit them yesterday. I issued them pillow cases to store their spoils, and headed on over to the local whitopia, Oakline Acre Hills Valley.

You’ve seen these types of neighborhoods. They display their yard of the month awards, they have bulletin boards with announcements from the homeowners association, and every carport sports a Yukon and a Prius. All of these might as well have been a sign that said “No Niggers.”

I pulled my 1977 Pontiac Catalina in to the neighborhood, and parked on side of the road. We then struck out in search of generous, candy giving, honkies. As we passed groups of costumed trick or treaters, my kids would just stare with their mouths wide open.

Trelarry saw a little white boy dressed as Lebron James with a full replica uniform complete with head band. He asked, “Hey man, why you couldn’t get me a fly costume like that?”

I saw this as a teachable moment, and took the opportunity to give the boy a lesson on economics. I told him that since crackers invented Halloween, they put it on the 31st of the month knowing ssi and welfare checks come on the first of the month. I explained how this was a plot by whitey to keep blacks from participating in Halloween.

He thought about that for a minute, and responded, “Well that little racist didn’t even put black make up on to look black.” I just smiled because it appears my little boy who I only get to teach one weekend a month, is starting to get it.

We started knocking on doors. At one house, the racist ass woman that answered the door said, “Oh, what are you supposed be?”

Shaquonn said, “What, you never see a black person before.” And that old bitch slammed the door in our face. Another teachable moment. I told Shaquonn she shouldn’t speak to white people like that. I told her she was too nice, and should have used more profanity. I told her that people that made such racist statements deserved worse language than she used.

My kids’ desire for free candy was stronger than their aversion to racists. We pressed on, gathering plastic wrapped goodness while passing groups upon groups of white people dresses as various ghouls, goblins, ghosts, and celebrities.

The pillow cases continued to fill until our merriment was cut short by an unfortunate instance of near violent racism. As we passed one group of costumed crackers, I noticed this petite, blond haired, blue eyed white girl dressed as a slutty nurse.

Another teachable moment presented itself. I pulled Treshawn, and Trelarry close. I told them I was about to show them how to holler at white bitch. As the slutty nurse passed, I shouted, “Hey ho, come get some black dick!”

Three crackers that were walking with the slutty nurse, and dressed like the cast of Jersey Shore, at least I think it was a costume, stepped up and one of them said something about whipping my ass and his thirteen year old daughter. Once again, a teachable moment presented itself.

I told the kids I was going to show them how to handle a muscled up white boy. I pulled out my nine, and shouted, “Brace yourself, fool!”

I cracked off a few rounds, but I doubt I hit anybody. All those scary ass honkies scattered, but one of their nosey neighbors called the police. I heard the sirens coming, and one final teachable moment presented itself.

I was able to show the kids how handle the police. I shouted, “It’s the people, run!”

We ran back to my car, and drove back to the hood. While the kids were a little frightened by the whole incident, they came away from it wiser, and more capable of dealing with such overt racism. They also came away with a bunch of free candy…and a watch. Apparently Shalarry had lifted it off one of the honkies laying in the street after we were accosted by The Situation. So I also gained something. A sense of pride that my children were growing up right.

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Posted by on November 1, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Why Black People Can’t Be Racist

It seems some of you honkies don’t understand my contention that black people cannot be racist. What kind of reverend would I be if I weren’t here to educate you crackers on these matters. So I propose to drop some truth bombs on your white asses with this post.

To understand why blacks cannot be racist, you first have to understand racism. Merriam-Webster Online defines racism as:

1) a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race

2) racial prejudice or discrimination

The problem is that Mr. Merriam, and Mr. Webster are both white, and their definition of racism is intentionally narrow so as to further promote white supremacy. Racism is not, as whitey would have you believe, the belief that one race is superior to another. Racism is an institution in this country. Racism is Amerikkka.

In Amerikkka, white people run everything. They control the government. They control the banks. They control education. It is this white omnipresence that defines racism.

Only white people can turn their feelings towards blacks into action. Schools, run by white people, fail blacks disproportionately. The police, run by white people, arrest and imprison blacks disproportionately. Banks, run by white people, force black people into taking loans they can’t afford keeping them perpetually indebted to crackers. It is the power to turn thoughts into action that makes white people inherently racist.

Black people don’t run anything. Black people have no money. They have no control. They have no power. They have no authority. Blacks can hate honkies, but they can do little else than call crackers hurtful names. Blacks can’t set government policy. It is the lack of black power that absolves blacks of any hateful feelings they may harbor. They cannot turn their feelings towards whites into action.

Racism is not about hating people of other races. Racism is about having power over other races, and using that power to keep them subservient. Since black people have no power in Amerikkka, it is impossible for black people to be racists.

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Posted by on October 29, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Not All White People Are Racist

You would think during the reign of the first black president this would go without saying. Even a supercharged bigot like the good Rev. Dr. Swift has to be able to admit that. President Obama would not be ‘President” if white people did not vote for him in large numbers. Unless, of course you believe those crazy conspiracy theories that groups like ACORN committed voter fraud on a large enough scale that most white people did not have to vote for him. Or even better, that the JOOOOOZ just had him installed like they do every president.

But I digress.

You would think in a day and age where white people send humongous ass-tons of money to Africa for AIDS research, white people would not have to defend themselves against the kind of outlandish accusations that our good reverend and doctor likes to throw about. I’m sure our magnanimous host believes that white people invented AIDS, and have a cure stashed away that’s just for white people and Magic Johnson.

One would expect that in an era where black people are afforded affirmative action in every aspect of work and education that people could finally stop cowering in fear of being outed as a racist just because they believe the most qualified person should get a job, or entrance to a university. Sadly that’s not the case. Race hustlers like Swift believe that stuff is owed to them and their people because some ancient ancestor was owned by some dude that died two hundred years ago. To quote Dr. Evil, “Boo Fricketty Hoo.”

That’s why I took this post as Swift’s house cracker. Somebody needs to pierce that tool’s ignorance. Somebody has to at least try to interject some common sense into this sea of swirling idiocy. Race relations ain’t that hard. If everybody would just quit their incessant whining, we may be able to move towards a future where there is no government run plantation, or instant societal death for any white person that dares to speak out about it.

Rev. Dr. Swift’s Response

First, I ain’t no bigot, boy. Second, I admit nothing, deny everything, and make counter-accusations. Third, it’s the Jews I tell ya! Fourth, you didn’t know whitey invented AIDS and have a cure stashed away that’s just for whitey and Magic Johnson? Here’s a video that proves it. Fifth, of course you owe me. Sixth, everyone is treated as an equal here, Honkey McCrackerson.


Posted by on October 27, 2011 in Uncategorized


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