Black is Black – or Is It?

One of the most irritating aspects of the current obsession with race is that the term “black” is used generically for people who are not actually black but of mixed race, either directly or through their ancestors.

Lewis Hamilton, for example, is a product of black and white parents and is strikingly different from someone like Serena Williams who is overwhelmingly of African origin. Hamilton doesn´t even look particularly black because his “black” background is Caribbean, where there was lots of mixing, yet has adopted the black cause. I wonder what his white mother thinks.
Tiger Woods is another ethnic cocktail but, unlike Hamilton, he has had the sense to keep his mouth shut during all this BLM nonsense.

Another example is Naomi Campbell who has a Scottish surname and is regarded as “black” – although she is completely English – but her father was said to be of Chinese origin, a not uncommon mixture in Jamaica.

If you visit the United States, Latin America, the Caribbean and Africa you will see that lots of “black” people have European, Indian, Arab or even Asian blood. In fact, many of them could claim to be white, Arab or Asian depending on which ancestor they chose.

By claiming to be black, these people are turning their backs on their own parents and ancestors. Pure denial, so common in today´s world.

Nominated by: Mr Polly 

A nomination for subscription box companies, mainly the defunct-but-rebranded Loot Crate.(https://www.lootcrate.com/)

Ive heard about this shite through some friends and online associations.

These services cater for hopeless dorks and collectors of tat by getting them to pay a monthly subscription fee for a shoebox full of merch, or goodies, or loot, or if you aren’t an awful American cunt who cries over Star Wars trailers, a box of plastic shit.

This isn’t just the regular level of geek crap, either. It’s not just plush Artoo Deetoos or Bobbleheads of Spock. It’s true miscellany. It’s the bits of plastic flotsam that weren’t bought by the parents of the underclass at the market. It’s the junky old obscure French toy at the carboot the owner thinks was called ‘Monsieur Oiseau’ that has been scraped around the bottom of the stacker box since 1982.

It’s the effluent from a factory in Macau, lodging in pools and inlets for Capuchins to chew on and stick together with sap , until a local toddler picks it up and puts it in his mouldering shoebox of disgusting playthings like the feet and heads of butchered junglefowl and some glass beads from the bracelet of a dead Australian girl.

It’s the dreck, the scrapings from the lowest our planet can offer in manufacturing and cultural quality.

The fact this sort of tat excites a glimmer in the otherwise dead eyes of the wretched recluse beta cunt, and their need to share this nadir of human existence on social media, fills me with a queasy revulsion for the sort of person I used to associate with,
Their grasping desire to acquire, for gratification of the latest wave of collectibles. The product of a kickstarter they’ve invested hundreds of pounds in, despite being semi-employed and needing bail-outs for a sharer box of McNuggets for them and the housebound missus.

The cult of the geek and their clueless embrace of hipsters who only like this muck ‘ironically’, but then find themselves chortling to a repeat of The Big Bang Theory. and buying the latest woke comic book.

The saving grace is that Loot Crate filed for Bankruptcy last year, was bought up and rebranded The Loot Company. It has 1.4 stars on Trust Pilot.

However, there are other box services delivering this childish wank that allow these cunts to ‘get their geek on’.

The whole thing makes me heave.

Nominated by: Cuntamus Prime 

Public health England are incompetent cunts.

Turns out the twats have been including in the kung flu death statistics everyone who has tested positive for China pox even if they died of something else. This is thousands of people. These fuckers who spend their lives nagging the population have shown themselves to be entirely pointless.

That’s 5000 people, with plenty paid more than Boris, who should get the sack. Cunts.

Nominated by: Smug cunt

The story so far; Meghan, Duchess of Deceit, continues to plot her step-by-step climb to wealth and power. Now read on.

“Let me see”, said Meagain, glowering maliciously at her computer. “Marry a dim prince… check. Have royal baby… check. Claim victimhood status and flee to LA mansion… check. Next, a blockbuster book dissin’ them Windsor bastards *cackle*. It’ll soon be out!”.

At those last words, her husband, Prince Harry de Halfwit, dropped his “Beano” and leapt up. “What’ll soon be out, lambkins?” he leered gormlessly. “Is it time for Mr Wiggly to pop out again?”.

“Oh for…” hissed the Mistress of Malice. Forcing herself to be calm, she twisted her face into a grimace of a smile cold enough to freeze the River of Hades. “No my love” she gushed. “With so much to occupy you, you’ve forgotten about our book, ‘Finding Freedom’. It’s about our escape from conformity and exploitation in the UK, to a new life of riches and opportunity in the land of the free”.

“What, with your mater living with us? *haw haw* ” he guffawed. “Just my little joke, petal”, he added hastily. “But dash it, old girl, I hope you’ve not put anything in it to offend grandmama. We’re down to our last fifty million, and the pater might cut us off without a bean”. The Prince of Sighs shuffled uneasily and scratched his bald spot. “I say”, he blurted. “Ain’t it written by that johnny Obid Scoobydo or whatnot? He’s a proper odd looking cove if you ask me…”.

“Heavens, keep ya voice down”, snarled the Princess of Perfidy. We’re the Duke and Duchess of Diversity remember! Talk like that could ruin The Plan!”.

“Sorrers an’ all that rot”, bleated the Half-blood Prince guiltily. “Erm… what plan is that, my little pumpkin?”.

The’s Duchess’s eyes focussed on him like lasers. “Why, to be POTUS, of course!”, she said, her tongue flicking greedily across her glossy lips.

“Ah”, said Halfwit blankly. “Erm… *a-hem* what exactly is a POTUS, my pet?”.

“Jesus H Chraast, Harry”, snarled Meghan. “President. Of. The. United. States.”.

“But why can’t I be President?” whined the Duke sulkily. “I’m the chap here, you know, even if you do wear the trysers. I want to fly about in that big jet, and get driven around in limosines, and have even more flunkies, and lecture the common people about the climate and stuff while they pay all the bills…”.

“You’ll do all that at my side”, oozed the Madame of Manipulation. “You’ll be *cough* ‘First Lady’ or something, and redecorate the White House. Don’t worry about it and remember our arrangement. I’ll do the thinking, and you don’t”.

“If you say so, heart’s delight”, bleated the Duke Of Dim doubtfully. Then his guileless features brightened. “Isn’t it aboyt time for Mr Wiggly to play now?”.

“Oh Jesus”, whispered the Duchess, rapidly glancing at her diary. “I can give you fifteen minutes now”, she said grudgingly, but that’ll be all until Christmas. I’ve got a coast-to-coast book-signing and tv schedule to plan”.

“I say, look here”, said Halfwit indignantly. “Christmas, you say? That’s not the kind of thing a chap wants to hear when a chap gets married…”.

To be continued….

Nominated by: Ron Knee

(not sure if this is an actual nomination or a bedtime story? But well done anyway, Ron – admin)

It looks like we’ve finally got our (least) favourite little Communist agitator in checkmate. Feast your eyes on today’s opinion piece from him and pay special attention to the caption below the photo:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jul/29/twitter-boycott-racism-social-media-wiley-newspapers
Afterall “they all look the same, don’t they?!” Priceless!!!

Nominated by: Cunt me in 

(Couldn’t have happened to a nicer cunt! – admin)