Thanks-For-Giving Whitey

 Special Thanksgiving Edition

Commander-In-Chief Barack Obama wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving with some real American-Indians, but after he lost $500,000 on their blackjack table and gambled away his daughters virginity, he tried to choke-out Chief  Moonshine.

They say history is written by the winners-- and nobody wins like white people. Thanksgiving is once again upon us, so as America's natives and our European forefathers did in Plymouth, this Thursday, families and friends will gather together to celebrate the harvest season. Homes across the nation will permeate with the aroma of freshly roasted, genetically mutated, hormone injected birds raised in captivity. These birds are bred for the sole purpose of one day being be-headed, then smothered in delicious rubs and spices, then tossed into an oven and cooked at 350 degrees for 4-6 hours, depending on the size, before finally being devoured by people who's rear-ends are already way too big.

White people aren't all bad, look at this pristine land we gave back to the Indians.

That doesn't make us whitey's bad people does it?  I don't think I'm a bad person just because I think we're better off without the Indians, or because I know Asians can't drive. It's not racist if it's a fact. Try getting a quote for auto insurance using a Chinatown address, then compare it to a neighborhood where women stay in the kitchen all day, and the only drivers allowed on the road are white males between the age of 21 and 50. (I know that neighborhood doesn't exist, I don't believe in Heaven either.)

Alright, maybe that's harsh, Mexicans can drive too. It's not like white people are going to do their own lawns, they're too busy being rich and powerful. But don't be doing 45 mph in the fast lane dusting my sports car with the exhaust from your '85 Datsun. Vamos! Vamos! Step on the gas Rodrigo! White people are in a hurry because we have jobs to get to. You're not getting to the free medical clinic any faster by driving in the fast lane, so move over. You'll still be there before the Taco Bell settles in your humongous stomach, which by the way is hanging over your sweatpants.  Gross.

So we've established that we need some Mexicans to be allowed to drive, but not all Mexicans. Of course, acquiring a valid Driver's License in the State of California requires proper paperwork-- so that might be a problem.


But let's say hypothetically... and I know, it's quite a stretch... but let's say they actually have their Green Card-- there would still be too many on the road. We still need to thin the herd. Pun intended.


Eliminate the one's with the peeing cartoon character on their back windows.  It's bad enough Mexicans keep giving us Salmonella every few months from pooping and peeing in the spinach fields they work in, but do I have to be constantly reminded of it while I'm driving to my job so I can earn enough money to pay taxes. Yeah, taxes, those are what white people pay for public services. Unlike Mexico, here in the U.S. we have services such as schools and Social Security (well maybe those aren't good examples).

They also can't drive if they have those annoying characters showing how many children they have. We know already. If you ask any white person what they think the average number of children Mexican's have is-- and they say anything less than 5-- they are lying. Those stickers of their kids are usually so numerous it creates a blind-spot, which is dangerous enough in itself, but it's highly unlikely any Mexicans have insurance.

It's Almost December... Surprise!!!

The joys of Christmas... wait shopping...malls... FML. Here's what you have to look forward to.





We've all been circling the mall parking lot in December scavenging for parking, when suddenly and inexplicably you turn down an aisle to find a ten car traffic jam.


All you needed was a soap-on-a-rope, some bath-beads, and a Tinkerbell costume-- in and out. Goddamn it! What could possibly be the hold-up?


Realizing it's a single Honda Civic causing the trouble, you turn down the radio, ignore Dr. Laura's monologue about morals and loving thy neighbor, throw the car in reverse and floor it down the next aisle in angry pursuit of a glimpse of what is inevitably an Asian. It's not like you're racist, you just want to see what nationality the driver is so you can confirm what you already know.

Because you're not a racist, you don't immediately blame the Asians, though you're pretty sure one of them is responsible. How can they be sooo good at math but can't drive a car? But since you're open-minded just like I am you know it might not be an Asian and it could be anyone-- other than a white male between the age of 21-50.  So, as a level-headed white-person, you naturally use your God-given deductive reasoning skills to figure it out.

The foriegn-parker who hates Christmas could very well be a Mexican. You can't rule that one out, not in Southern California. It's unlikely though because on the way to the mall you passed by a Home Depot and saw a few hundred of them taking a siesta on the lawn, so how many more Mexicans could be possibly be left?


Okay, that was racist, I'll give you that one.

So with an open-mind you quickly scrutinize the aesthetic integrity of the vehicle, searching for any indicators. Spinners? Nope. A big, fat, career pregnant wife who doesn't speak a word of English? Nope. Nothing against that woman, she looks just like a housekeeper I used to have. The housekeeper might not speak any English but she sure could clean a mean kitchen before getting pregnant with Jose the 11th and quitting.

Although I never could quite understand exactly what she was saying, by the tone of it, it sounded as though she didn't care for the noxious bleach fumes she inhaled while cleaning my bathroom. Doesn't that stuff cause brain-damage? Don't worry Maria, it's not like Jose was going to grow up to be an engineer anyway.

Judging by the fact the car looks reasonably intact, there's fewer than 11 people in it, and the registration tags are current it's highly unlikely it's a Mexican. No matter, another parking space just opened up--better hurry!

The plywood door is a dead-giveaway there is a Mexican driving.

It could also be a Persian of some sort. I don't know which one... the kind that wears leather jackets in the summer and wears too much cologne. They know where and when all the sales are, but don't let that fool you into thinking they aren't going to bargain the price down. Another reason it could be a Persian is because you did come to the shopping mall, and the ones that actually work are probably there picking up extra shifts slinging cell-phones at the Verizon kiosk.

If you've ever been to a mall in Southern California you're familiar with this.

But again, the culprit is driving a Honda not a '1976 Diesel Mercedes so cross them off.

Seriously, are Persians genetically predisposed to driving Mercedes? Why not BMW's? Or even Kia's? I realize that fuel efficiency isn't the first thing on their minds since they get oil from cousin Mohammed for free. And I recognize that you need a certain amount of structural integrity to plow through the gate of the U.S. Embassy, but after they blow themselves up it's not like the car is going to be resold so again I ask why Mercedes?

Southern California residents know that Persians all drive a Mercedes.
It doesn't matter if it's brand new, 40 years old, or has been salvaged from the last suicide bomber/owner who blew himself up in it.

Now you're close enough to get a visual on the culprit.



Asian. Yup, I knew it. I'm so smart... it's GREAT to be white!



So much for open-minded.

Unlike Mexicans, Asians typically possess the required paperwork to obtain a driver's license.
Unfortunately for them, it's the behind-the-wheel test that proves tricky.

So you park the car and are about to get out and brave the crowd.

Quick! Lock the doors!... a black person just walked by! It could be a black woman... no... wait... it's a man... sometimes it's hard to tell at first glance. It doesn't really matter, either way they're obviously up to no good. I certainly wasn't expecting to see any black people here, I pay premium rental prices in this neighborhood so I don't have to be around any black people. Plus, the Section 8 housing is all the way Downtown and I didn't think the bus-line ran this far west.

It's not considered racist when it's genuinely hard to tell the sex.

Deep breath. I was caught off guard at first just like you, but everything is going to be okay. I feel safe now because Mall security is already on it. There is no telling what a black person is hiding in those baggy pants. They could be hiding anything from a machine-gun to Jimmy Hoffa's body. There is only one section  in a black man's pants where there is no room to conceal his newly stolen merchandise-- and you already know where that is.

 I still don't think I'm racist because I'm not scared of all black people, just the ones who commit crimes, which should really lower the chance of this particular one being dangerous.

So to recap, nothing so far is racist because it's all been true-- so we're still good on the whole Karma thing.




You realize it was kind of silly to be startled now. What did you expect? It is the mall, and in the middle of the day, so it's not like any of them are at work. Plus, the mall is full of white women-- fat and thin, tall and short. It doesn't really matter as long as she's white.

Once inside the mall, you can't help but notice the tribal hooting and hollering. Noise, so vociferous, it could only be coming from more black people. Why can't you just stay quiet and keep walking Coolio? You already know they don't sell grape-drink at Orange Julius, so stop hitting on the underage girl filling her head with lies-- and try filling out a job application. Welfare doesn't send out checks until next week so what the hell are you doing here anyway? You're just causing raukus and scaring all the white people who plan on actually paying for their gifts.

It doesn't matter though because you've already trained yourself to ignore them. As long as you don't make eye-contact everything should be alright. Just pretend they're not there, grip your purse or wallet tightly, and walk by. Besides, you really don't want a confrontation with any of them -- blacks are a very volatile people. The men all carry guns, and the women... well you know about the women.

Even though I got there first, she can have the parking space without argument from me.

When you finally locate the maple syrup flavored anal-beads all you want to do is pay and get the hell out. The mall is a nightmare, and I can't wait to get home. But what happens next? You guessed it. An old person decides to write a check for $.49 cents because she doesn't like to carry a lot of cash.


You feel like the other 20 people in line and want to do her a favor and strangle her to death. It's a natural reaction so it's not wrong-- don't feel guilty. If I wanted to spend a bunch of time smelling old person I would have visited my Nana sometime in the last 15 years, but instead, I spend that time at home masterbating to reruns of Real Housewives.

Forget the mall, you're better off staying home.

In light of this years holiday spirit and cheer, this Thanksgiving we should do something different. Perhaps we should blow the dust off the list of goals we made at the beginning of the year, and take a moment to reflect upon the decaying moral fabric of our society, but more importantly of ourselves.

Let's see... woops, I meant to start working out this year but I was busy. I wanted to start saving money but Bank Of America keeps raising overdraft fees... nope, accomplished nothing this year. 

By the way-- Santa is skipping your house this year. He skips mine every year. That pervert probably has more important things to do anyway.

It's the time of year for change and reflection.

If you make New Years resolutions and don't accomplish anything, or find yourself justifying that you're a good person by saying, thinking, or convincing yourself of any of these things-- then you're not only racist and exactly what's wrong with society-- but you're also my kind of person.




I know it's terrible what he did, but I would totally F#*K Chris Brown... did you see him on the VMA'S? He can sing and dance!

So what if I watch kiddie-porn all day, I already un-friended Jerry Sandusky on Facebook.

I really want to learn Spanish but I really, really hate Mexicans.

Chaz Bono is really starting to look manly.

For a black guy, Herman Cain is pretty intelligent.

I would wait until Miley Cyrus is 18 to bang her, but she doesn't have to be 18 to jerk-off to her.

Merry Christmas!