Verily, after I had come from going in unto mine white woman, yea even unto her — tarry a bit did I with her thereafter, for to partake of the food and drink which was meted unto me, as reward for so rigorous a piping as I had laid.
Thence did I instruct her further, like before, as to the dysfunction of the manic white culture death-cult; for a downturned eye and solemn disposition did I countenance of her by her inability to fit dem curves into a pair of new shorts she’d been hoping to floss.
“Hark,” unto her I did say, “recline thy bosom onto the wet spot and incline thy ear unto my mansplaining, yea even dispelling thy displeasure by my manly reproach.”
She obeyed, as is customary for any woman towards a man, save for a bozo broad who pimps herself to a punk whom she can never respect.
“Wherefore canst thou tarry upon the thin, limp opinions of pallid faggots, dismal dykes, and coquettish kikes; whose emptiness alone, in the end, fills that seat of suicidal self-disgust which moves fools to give to a rat ass as to those hardly living ghosts?”
“For surely did I not pound you all the more fervently, yea even growling and exclaiming in a tone all the more manly, from a zeal brought by latching onto dem curves and pushing into all that womanly cushion?”
The white woman became of color, yea even of red — as testament to the truth of my manly insight; for she had, hitherto, often suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous social edicts, especially from boring, ass-less beckies, whose pale and paltry opinion is not worth dick, yea not even the dick which they, by their boring loins, cannot take.
Hence did I cue w a manly, black treatise by Chris Rock, whereupon he recounted the parable of the fat, black woman, whose “pump fat was coming out the pump.”
Surely, I reminded her, would the white, colorless, soulless death-cult would blithely warn against the social sedition of a person wrongly deciding to be happy while yet being so fat and so black:
“That fat nigger bitch is going to die of heart failure!,” would bleat the boring, butthurt white-cult retards — especially the black ones — all living with hearts and minds that failed long ago, by a bright, blinding, devilish desire to control the minds and lives of others, through the foundations of white privilege: shame, hypocrisy, and bitterness.