The 'Elite'
Should Grow Some Balls and Actually Fight Like Men
Did depression make you fatter or more lazy? Because I’m carved from brass right now and I’ve really just been doing a bit of yoga and a bit of running. When I was the most fiscally comfortable, I was the most unhealthy. Peanut M&Ms flowed like water.
Minecraft was my escape from a shitty publishing job. Bad food was my path to slow suicide.
When you make so little money that you have to make sure your little dude has what he needs first (good organic beef, milk, veggies, homebaked bread, farm eggs), then tinned sardines and squid and GV pasta become good enough for you. No, I don’t need that toast. That cookie. That sweet drink. That anything.
You stop spending $3 or $5 or $9 here and there because the next service staying running is going to cost you at least 12 of those $9 purchases. 20 Lincolns is $100. The cost of four shitty protein bars can go to food that will make dinner three times.
Anyway, I saw this on my freshly-cleaned X account, now devoid of repetitive, boring, disingenuous smart-kid memes which allowed me to signal that I wanted to be like said smart kids. When you leave the cliques and the cool kids behind, you’re thrown back into the pit with the normies.
So anyway, THIS is what they sell to ‘normies’ as discourse.
Left wing pussy: “Oh, the humanity, won’t Trump *speak out* against this?”
Right wing pussy: “You are a bad man! Begone from my gentle and precious vision!”
Holy shit, gentlemen—did you want to take your fucking panties off first before you get into the oil pit to wrestle each other while crying your squinty eyes out? Can I get you both a case of Häagen-Dazs for your recovery from biting and nail-scratching?
It’s amazing that outsiders occasionally mistake Americans as “tough” or “savage” when it’s shit like this that makes our populist knickers shake. Our military hardware and well-trained grunts might back up the whining Miller spouts—but that doesn’t mean Miller himself has a dick despite his probable appetite for it. Obviously the algorithm rules all, which means that a critical mass of pussified Americans think any of this shit matters one way or another.
The algorithm, in this case, proves that Americans actually DO give a shit about these simpering fairies fighting each other over a glowing screen. That means the algorithm thinks I ALSO give a shit about a judge’s COASTAL HOME burning to the ground.
Coastal home.
Boo fucking hoo, to every one of these cunts. I’m on a fucking SARDINE DIET to make sure I can pay for heating fuel, and I’m going to cry for an oceanside property, Democratic, Republican, whig, know-nothing, or otherwise?
Hey. I have an idea. A Democratic judge’s house got burned down? That’s a shame. Pick a Right wing judge and burn his house down. There. Now stop fucking whining about your pretty frilly shit and keep your hands to yourselves before I turn this car around and drive it straight into West Philly, where all your fucking whining about coastal houses and appropriate behavior would be swallowed up by the way the world actually fucking works—a world neither Miller nor Goldman would survive for more than two weeks, a world which sneers, mocks again, and tells these little boys to sort it out on the street and GET BACK TO FUCKING WORK.
Whether it’s politically motivated or not, whether the judge’s retarded family blew out a pilot light or whether a cartoon MAGA-maybe-troon-maybe-white-maybe-male who doesn’t know whether they’re based or woke and tossed a molotov into the /foyer'/ of this Sargasso McMansion—I don’t care. Burn another down. Fight each other in the streets with old-school tools. Do whatever it takes, and cite “freedom isn’t free” or whatever the fuck retard speech-as-soundbyte you can fit onto a bumper sticker today to sell to one hundred million retarded partisans on each side while the remaining 150 million of us desperately scrape our change and sell our classless shit to each other to survive another day.
But don’t be rich, powerful, and pretend to be enraged or upset or horrified without either of your dicks effectively doing anything—and then expect people like me to do anything but wish clammy-skinned infant-bodied persons-of-political-privilege swift mercy from their fucking mental suffering behind their fucking iPhones.
We all know that both Goldman and Miller get paid really really well for this limp-dicked futility.
That’s because the news’ advertisers believe I give a shit about a dead CEO, or about the myriad ways in which a retard like Trump has “amazed them” with his crassness again, because this time—FOR THE 117,565th TIME—they were oh so amazed he didn’t fucking magically transform into the progressive savior they apparently expected him to become since their last retarded headline 13 hours ago.
They think I’m concerned about people who don’t look like me taking my jobs, or speaking another language which isn’t down-home American retard ‘English’ from a rural county.
They think we give a shit about any of their fairy flailing, or the glitter-laced puffballs they pretend to throw at each other over at Elon’s giant digital DiscoveryZone.
I would respect both of these men more if they fought each other, eight points, televised. The winner can go on to fight another simperingly weak but femininely-talented-whining bureaucrat until one remains. Then, at the end of the bloody tournament, we can pick any blue collar worker in America…legal or not…to finish off the winner with a single flick of a finger to the face—because mild irritation is about all it would take to incapacitate a Daniel Goldman or a Stephen Miller.
The MAGA-ites might be depicted as scary roughnecks once in a while, but get high enough in the ranks and you’ll find that the Republicans have—in the last 20 years—mimicked the lamentations and whining of their weakling opponents in their feathers and in their spongiformed fucking minds. The Republicans are every bit as nagging-grandmother as Tipper fucking Gore was 45 years ago.
Evidence? Look at the human penis below and know it in your heart.
But shit, I better watch what I say when I talk about Elites like Miller and Goldman. I should keep quiet and know my position or they might use their powerhouse move…
Whining on the fucking internet. (My god, get to your bunkers.)
God knows it nearly gave me an aneurysm today just to be shown what kind of supreme hall monitor pussy the Deputy Chief of Staff is. A little more evidence of just how incompetent and ineffective high-ranking people like this are, and I’m going to grab my chest like Redd Foxx on the one day he wasn’t joking.