Drained of humanity, addicted to the vanity of ersatz masculinity from forsaken femininity: The interchangeable dregs surrendered sense for compliments from frantic fascist friends promising means to suit the ends predetermined by the child-raping homosexual Jewish heads of APAs.
Hidden from the darkness of black humanity, blinded by the pure white lights of hospital emergency: The porn star’s ass- and cunt-stitches testament to her non-racist tendencies, as she helps porn producers promulgate that penile anomalies are the baseline that a porn-addict would need to be a Real Man.
Then, in porn’s sister industry, badass millionaire victim Uma Thurman earned the right to Kill Bill, as the plucked cluck from the cattle-call by a fat ugly Jew and his goy enablers.
“Women can do anything!,” moaned the barren bitches bravely unto their morphine TVs, happily witnessing Bill’s killer righteously receive victim-status for being asked to drive a car.
Halls of congress echoed with the clucks of sterile cavalcades — of motherless childless deprived depraved — demanding that foxes, by default, be caged whenever they touch recruits of a holy hen-house harem.
The moral of the story: Men can NOT be trusted — unless it’s a large group of men saying what you want to hear, while dripping in ulterior motives, on the Expanded Plantation.