The growing distaste towards and poor treatment of most Whites by the non-white hordes is almost breathtaking to watch here in SoCal. It’s also something that will make any normal, aware White man almost mad enough to pick up a gun and start doing some street cleaning on his own.
What am I moaning about now? Every day the influx of non-whites grows and grows and grows. Not only do their numbers grow, so does their arrogance, sense of entitlement and bitterness towards Whites. It’s affecting so many things, the small and seemingly unimportant right up through items of great importance that it’s hard to see how any Whites can fail to notice this. But most do. Sure, a lot of Whites see it, but it’s not registering correctly in their brainwashed minds. Other Whites see it and understand what’s going on, but they’re too intimidated to go against it, to fight back even in minor fashion. In some ways I understand. But if things don’t begin some kind of “correction” soon, it’s going to be all that much worse when we are finally forced to fight back with more than just websites that point out the responsible parties and blogs that point out unmentioned problems. Ahem.
There’s nowhere you can go to escape the multicult insanity. Not only the insanity forced on us by the people running the show, but the innate insanity, lack of common sense and self centered arrogance that’s found in most non-whites these days. I’m talking about the entire gamut also, from the filthiest central American jungle savage to the Asians who are able to blend in in a lot of ways. They’re all feeling their oats these days, all of them thinking they can push Whitey around. All of them.
God forbid you have to go to a shopping mall here in SoCal. Even if you live in area that’s for the most part free and clear of the never should have beens*, the structures seem to attract them like cockroaches cavorting in the filth of a mexican’s Section 8 apartment. Non-whites of all types can be found lumbering through the malls out here. The mexicans and blacks walking 5 or more across, most of them trying their best to make sure they don’t move more than a couple of centimeters to get out of anyone’s way, especially Whitey’s! That’s if they move at all. Being kind of a lug, I make sure they move. Most Whites don’t fight it. They go out of their way to be polite. It almost seems like a lot of Whites physically shrink when approaching these animals or they go out of their way to be courteous. This infection has been at epidemic levels among Whites for more than three decades. On the other side, the confidence, the arrogance, the belligerence and sense of entitlement, the feeling of power that non-Whites have over Whites has been growing steadily since at least the early 70’s. It kicked off in the mid 60’s with the NY based red-diaper baby judeo-bolsheviks getting the problems going down South under the guise of “civil rights protests”, but the shock-wave of non-White arrogance began to hit the country in the early 70’s and nothing’s been the same since as the force of this “attitude adjustment” increases every year.
From top to bottom, this attitude, this glee at intimidating Whites, attempting to make each encounter large or small into a chance to turn Whites, especially White males, into some kind of second class, bizarro form of Stepin Fetchit is something I see going on everywhere. Like I stated above, a trip to the mall here in SoCal is a multi-cult nightmare that will provide you with dozens of examples of the problems and symptoms I mention in my meandering posts. All it takes is a four minute walk through a shopping center. That’s all you’ll need to see the relationship between most non-whites and Whites. The casual arrogance of the non-whites, the haughtiness in their manner will be on full display. Watch them. Most of them, even many of the formerly courteous Asians will do as little as possible to get out of the way of Whites who are walking toward them. I don’t mean the non-Whites should jump aside and bow. It’s just that common courtesy is gone, you know, people coming from opposite directions each move aside a bit to let each other pass without undue trouble. Not anymore. The non-whites move forward as if they expect Whitey to get out of the way. Usually he does. In fact, many times the non-Whites attempt to move straight through Whites as if the Whites weren't there at all. There is no respect for Whites, anywhere, from anyone.
Too much of the time, Whitey shows deference as he makes sure the way is clear for his dusky betters. He automatically steps aside, as in way too far aside. It’s pitiful. Too often he gives the odd smile, the “…please, try to like me! I’m not a racist!” smile. This behavior by Whites is painful to watch and it just adds to a vicious circle. Whites backs off, Leroy, Jose, Chan, whoever, take more and more and more, whether it’s the walkway at the mall or a slot at school or a job. Sometimes it’s Whitey’s wallet or life. This “don’t upset them” behavior that has been drilled into the psyche of so many Whites is leading us to deeper into an ever worsening situation. So many Whites feel that they must do all they can not to upset non-Whites, to not make even the smallest move that might deemed as upsetting or “inappropriate” by these creatures that we are truly going to have one horrible time defending ourselves when the inevitable big battle hits. Whatever you do; “Don’t make them mad!”
So many Whites lack any heart at all that it’s scary. This is why we are victimized in so many areas, important and the seemingly unimportant. Believe me, all levels of non-White predation are dangerous to us. Even the slightest attempt by them to get an advantage over us should be viewed as predation. Each time they get away with something, it emboldens them for the next step, the bigger step, the next attack. They smell the fear like animals and move in. Whites are tested, attacked all day long by non-Whites and don’t even realize it. That’s where today’s entry is headed. I like to concentrate on things that many people feel are unimportant, small. Believe me, none of it is small. It all adds up. All of it. A mexican asking to borrow your pen and then walking off without you asking for it back is a test, an assault, a fight. And you've lost if he walks off with your pen. That's how he looks at it. That's how non-whites look at a lot of things.
The widespread stench of White fear combined with the inflated self esteem and confidence of non-whites has led to ceaseless attacks all over the country. Everywhere. All day long. Most people don’t understand that not all attacks are physical.
This feeling of “I’ve got Whitey cowed,” is most evident in the behavior of the black and latino populations. Every encounter with a White is a chance to screw with him, to exert some kind of control or authority. To win what they see as a contest. A fight. Take for instance ordering food at a restaurant or even a fast food outlet. This is where blacks usually outshine all other non-whites in outright temerity. I will say the ‘spanics are gaining ground in this area as they continue to emulate and combine black behaviors with their own innate primitive rituals as they continue their government directed takeover. Generally a black customer in almost any situation is a pain in the ass. A lot of you out there know what I’m writing about. You’ve seen it with your own eyes dozens and dozens of times.
There’s a diner I go to every couple of weeks or so if I have a very late day at work, and Tuesday was a very long day. Besides doing what I’m paid to do, I had to put up with the hurdles and irritants strewn through the day courtesy of multi-culturalism. Like walking into the restroom just as one of the mexican paper shufflers is exiting. He’s giving me a slightly startled look and he books. I go to the stall. He was giving me a startled look because now I’ll know who it was that “forgot” to flush. I’ll bet he also “forgot” to wash his hands. Mexicans in the shipping dept. out sick again. ‘Spanics who don’t want to make coffee, fill empty copiers and printers with paper when they’ve used it up. The usual. Dealing with unintelligible foreign computer “technicians” and sales people on the phone. Can't have Americans doing those jobs. Something might get done. Finally getting out the door, hopping in my car and then sitting in barely moving, stifling traffic, mexicans all over the place screwing it up because they generally aren't well equipped for handling motor vehicles.
I finally get to the diner. I take a look at the customers as I glance at the menu. Mostly White in this part of town. I order my food and I'm busy tinkering with my notes as I eat dinner. I'm about half-way through my meal when trouble walks in.
My attention locks on a black guy who strolls in alone and takes a seat at a booth. Without waiting to be directed to a seat. The sign at the front register says "Please Wait to be Seated." He’s about 45, has the sports page tucked under one arm. After he takes his seat, he flips through the menu. After about a minute, he begins staring across the room at several waitresses who are engaged in a discussion. They’re probably drawing straws to see who gets to serve the black guy, because blacks are generally non-tippers in addition to being pain-in-the-ass customers 99% of the time. The black guy has a look of surpeme contempt as he rolls his head and continues staring at the waitresses. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a Rolex. The Rolex is probably fake. Just like OJ’s. His shoes are some weird, gaudy, three tone piece of leather footwear that no White man could get away with wearing without being locked up.
One waitress finally draws the short straw. She goes to the bro’s table and flips open her pad of checks. “How are you doing?” The boon nods slightly like he’s doing her a favor to acknowledge her existence. No small talk. A man’s got to eat!
“The Meat Lover’s Breakfast Meal.”
“Alright, how would you-”
"Ah want the eggs scram-belled.” He cut her off quick. Don't question him. She isn't experienced enough to know that she's supposed to grovel, to let him speak uninterrupted. He'll let her know when she's allowed to ask questions.
“Ok” says the waitress. Most of the waitresses at this place are middle-aged and look like characters from a 1940’s film noir movie. They're not softies, but they've been around the block enough to know that the groids take the silliest of things far too seriously.
“Now ah want them scram-belled right. Very scram-belled. Scram-belled ‘til they're brown. Ah also want un-yins in them. Chopped un-yins.” “Chopped onions, ok.” The groid’s manner and expression are one in the same, imperious, staring at the White woman as if he’s deciding whether or not she understood her monarch’s commands. The waitress has a bland look on her face, she’s probably seen many a black bastard with overdone pronunciation coupled with ebonics dishing out laundry lists of “special requests".
“Ah’ll take a side of the pancakes, but make sure they’re cooked enough, two shades more’n golden brown.” The waitress is doing a good job of hiding her distaste for this clown’s foolishness. “Make sure they’re hot when you bring ‘em n make sure there’s lotsa buttah on the side.”
“Alright, butter on-”
“Lotsa buttah! N’ make sure the syrup holder isn’t messy. Don’t want to get mah hands sitcky.” He then wiggles his fingers in the air to show he’s got fingers almost like a human's.
“The bacon needs ta’ be ek-stra crispy.” “Ok.” “But not burnt. Ah’ll send burnt bacon riiiight back!” Then he has a good laugh. Hot-damn he’s funny to himself.
“Do you want hash browns or fruit?” “The hash browns, long as they ain't dry. N’some wheat toast.” Then he immediately pokes his nose into the sports page he’s brought with him. Dismissing the servant by paying her no more mind.
The waitress looks like she’s going to ask another question, but then she turns to walk away. She notices that I was watching and she rolls her eyes as she passes by.
She’s been attacked, but I don’t think she knew it. She probably did know that it was very possible this waster of air was just getting started.
I had to look away from the self important boon. His behavior was giving me flashbacks to dozens of other instances like this, going all the way back to the days when White kids could get a job at a place like Carl’s Jr like I did in High School. My first day on the job and the manager was going over the in’s and out’s of all the facets of working behind the scenes in the exciting world of fast food prep. My attention was caught by a girl running the drive-thru window. She was having some sort of problem with a black customer. The manager looked both ways then lowered his voice so that only I would hear… “You have to watch the niggers. That word doesn’t bother you does it?” He looked around frantically, thinking that maybe he’d put his foot in it.
“No. After going to school with them for years that’s how I look at them.” He looked instantly relieved. “Good. They’re almost always a pain in the ass, looking for something for nothing.” I can still remember him moving me farther back toward a corner to make sure no one would hear him. He wanted to get this off his chest.
“They’re always looking for a way to get out of paying the bill or some way to make us give them more than what they paid for.” The girl at the window was still having her go-around with the irate garboon. “They’ll tell you they didn’t order something when they did. They’ll tell you they told you to take something off their order when they didn’t. They don’t want to pay for it, but since it’s in the bag, they’ll keep it.” I listened, none of what he was telling me surprised me. “They’ll tell you the food’s too hot. They’ll tell you the food’s too cold. They’ll say they didn’t want ketchup. They’ve gone crazy… crazier!” I thought I knew everything he was speaking about. But I really didn’t. Neither did he I’d bet. By that I don’t think that at the time he realized the “reasoning” behind a lot of the monkey business. And there was lots of monkey business. I got a good dose of it over the months ahead. TNB is the proper term I believe.
I was working the counter a few weeks later and was giving a particularly picky groid customer his order, a “Superstar with Cheese” and some fries. He opened the burger while standing at the counter and began to theatrically examine the toppings. “Tha’ onions. Red onions or brown onions?”
“Excuse me?”
“Is the onions red onions or brown onions?” I’m thinking, “WTF difference does it make?” I couldn’t say that out loud without being fired from my prestigious position, so I went along. “I’ll have to check.” I knew damn well they were plain old brown onions. I’d bet a week’s pay he already knew the answer. But since he was giving me some ‘tude, I figured I’d better play the game. I stepped around the corner and asked loud enough for him to hear me, “Are the onions red onions or brown onions?” A couple of people laughed. “A guy up front wants to know.” I knew from experience that blacks hated to be referred to as “…some guy.” Doesn’t suit their Goodyear Blimp sized egos. They want to hear “Mister, customer, something regal like Sir Leroy of Martin Luther the King blvd,” or crap like that. I’d have preferred to use something more quaint like groid or asshole or even nigger but that usually doesn’t fly at most jobs.
“Brown onions, sir,” I reported to the curious brutha. Anyone who’s been around blacks knows what’s coming next; “I don’t want no brown onions. I need red onions.” He “needs” red onions? Yeah, that’s what he said to me. “Do we have red onions here?” Someone in the back shouted “No!” The groid looked at me, then looked into the cooking area behind me. “We have a problem. I’s expectin’ red onions. Yo’ commercials use red onions, so there should be red onions.” He’s picking through his fries, eating them while giving me his bullshit. I don’t know what kind of onions were used in any commercials. I can tell you the commercials had nothing to do with we did in real life at that restaurant.
“I can’t go out and get you red onions, sir. Would you like to order something else?”
“I want a Superstar with red onions.” I can remember thinking that all I wanted to do at this point was jump across the counter and choke this stupid, arrogant motherfucker to death to the cheers of onlookers who were sick and tired of this display of black bullshit. The manager could see I was getting ready to blow my top. He walked up and told me to go to the back and check the fridge, see what kind of onions we might have while he “…helped this customer out.”
So the brutha ordering his scrambled eggs and onions was reminding me of my stint at Carl’s Jr. among a thousand other ridiculous, self-centered nonsensical groid perpetrated routines I had been involved in or witnessed over the years. I’d really like to hear from some of you out there who have been through this crap or witnessed it. Ordering waiters and waitresses around ‘til they’re dizzy, then trying to run out on the check or contesting every item on the bill. Then leaving a miniscule tip if they leave a tip at all. Blacks holding up the line at the bank while they give tellers attitude. Holding up the line at the airport looking for special treatment or because they were simply too stupid to read and understand the posted rules and regulations. Which of course they don’t believe apply to them because in so many facets of life in the former US blacks do whatever the hell they feel like with little or no repercussions. I was thinking of blacks pushing people around for no reason other than they knew that the person would not or could not fight back, either because they’re cowed or brainwashed like most Whites or they were simply wary or scared of the groid’s numerical superiority in those particular situations. I was thinking of nogs starting trouble in school and getting away with it because intimidated teachers and administrators would be in “don’t make them mad” mode or the school personnel were brainwashed leftist jerkoffs who let groids get away with everything because of “…a history of 400 years of oppression” or other bullshit.
Blacks have been getting away with murder literally and figuratively for far too long. I’m thinking about all of this and I tell myself to cool off. Hey, take your mind off this crap by watching one of the TV's they have above the dining counter. Ok. I look across the room to see what's on the TV facing me. It’s Gloria Vanderbilt’s faggy son, Anderson Cooper and his propaganda show on CNN. Great. He starts running a promo or something with the mother or sister of one of the DC snipers, afro boy Lee Boyd Malvo. They’re also cutting to the daughter of one of the victims. The victim and daughter are White I should point out. I can barely hear the audio, but I can see the closed captioning. The CNN idiots are trying to get the daughter to say she can forgive Malvo, after all he was only 17 at the time, and he was brainwashed by John Allen Muhammad. Hey, when I was 17 I might have felt like strangling the idiot groid over his onion based bullshit, but I didn’t. I also knew it would probably be wrong to drive around the country and blast people with a high powered rifle. Then again, I’m white. The pompous bitch who’s related to Malvo is going on about how sorry he is, how he’s trying to make amends through his writing, etc. How about stringing the son of a bitch up? How’s that for making amends? At least the daughter said she couldn’t forgive the bastard for shooting her father. The media is ALWAYS getting Whites to say they forgive some black or brown savage who has hurt or killed a loved one from the White’s family. If on the rare occasion a White sends a brown or black six feet under (and it’s usually for good reason), the same media will let the dusky monsters wail and roar about their hatred for “the killer”, let them crow about vengeance. Then the media will tell us the emotions of the black or brown are valid, heartfelt, correct, deserved. Because those emotions are directed at Whites.
I decide I’d better not watch the TV. That kind of crap can ruin your appetite. It can also get you arrested if you take your coffee mug and use it to turn off the TV. I glance over at the groid, wondering if this place will manage to get his pancakes “…two shades more’n golden brown.” He’s raising his coffee cup as the busboy walks by. “Jose, coffee.” Then he plants his cup on the table and goes back to his paper without a second glance at the busboy. The busboy gives him a disgusted look but he does walk off to find the waitress. I know the busboy’s name isn’t Jose. This guy is just calling him that to screw around. I’ve seen blacks do that before on plenty of occasions also. Not that I care, but it’s indicative of the general attitude of groids toward everyone else. They think the whole world is intimidated by them. They’re justified in feeling that way toward whites as a group because so many Whites are intimidated by them. Or they’re at least intimidated by what could happen to them if they stand up to a black or most other non-whites.
Believe me, I’m aware that Whites, especially in the US, are in a no-win situation most of the time when dealing with non-Whites. If you stand your ground, even in a minor situation, you are automatically the bad guy, a complete villain. A "racist". Whooo! If a confrontation turns physical, most of the time you will end up fighting a swarm of browns or blacks because all of them, no matter the race, are more “group oriented” to put it nicely. They’re pack animals. This is especially the case for blacks and latrinos.
But this situation of Whites being perceived as weak, as being easy targets, the perception that any White can be attacked even if other Whites are around, because other Whites won’t jump in, is having dire consequences around the country as we all know. Far deeper consequences than some self absorbed nog cutting the line at an amusement park and not worrying about the consequences. As I mentioned earlier, when the big fight finally breaks out, we Whites are going to have a lot of trouble at first, simply because so many of us are so brainwashed we won’t fight. The herd will be culled. I don’t worry about us winning out in the long run. It’s the early part of the fighting that’s going to be the most costly. It’s a shame because it doesn’t have to be that way. On many occasions these days we’re targets just for the sake of being targets, for amusement. All thanks to forced multi-culturalism, civil rights laws that grant special privileges and rights to non-whites, along with other alien policies put forth by our “government”. But I digress…
The waitress zooms up and fills the boon buffoon’s coffee cup. He looks up a bit from his paper. A bit. Just enough to look at the coffee pot in the waitress’ hand. He looks gloriously irritated, obviously she should have come along with fresh java much quicker. I start to wonder if anyone else is watching this or if anyone even cares about this stuff.
A minute later she’s back with the boolie’s food. I can’t turn away, I have to watch. As the waitress lays out his food, the brutha scans everything on the plate. I know something’s up. Something’s wrong. It’s coming. She lays everything out and tells him, “I’ll be right back with the pancakes.” “Hold on. I need the eggs scram-belled some more. I told you they should scram-bell them ‘til they’re brown.” “They are pretty well done,” the waitress is forcing a smile.
“Not enough.” He shakes his head in the practiced, snobby way we see often in the news from dangerous clowns like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. The waitress nods and starts to pick up the plate. “The un-yins. They red un-yins or white un-yins?” “I think they’re brown onions.” I want to jump out of my seat and yell “Yes! Yes!” I want to tell this clown he’s the winner of the “Nigger of the Day Award!”
“Can you see to it that he makes new scram-belled eggs with red un-yins. Or even green un-yins if you got ‘em. I can't eat brown un-yins”
“I'll see what we can do.”
That isn’t what the boon wanted to hear. He lowers his head while looking right at the waitress. He wants to hear “Yes sir, right away, sir!” She takes the plate of food back to the cook’s counter and starts explaining to him what’s up. The boon looks over at the cook. The cook digs around behind the counter and holds up some green onions. The boon nods, like a king granting a peasant some paltry wish. He sits back, I can almost see his chest swell with the pride of victory. He’s just pushed Whitey around. Just committed an assault. Just won another round. I can only hope the cook spit in his food and dumped brown onions mixed with snot all through his “scram-belled” eggs. I was going to stick around and see what would happen when his pancakes showed up the wrong hue or without enough butter, but decided it might be better to get out of there before I was driven to do society a favor and put a steak knife in the groid’s neck.
Yeah, they walk all over us. At the mall. Ordering food in restaurants. Ordering us around. Giving us shitty service at the DMV, courts, any city, state or federal office. On the streets. In the schools. We Whites are being assaulted all day long by non-Whites yet not enough Whites realize it. These days, every thing they do is a test. Their will against ours. We’re losing most of the time. Every time they get their way, even in petty situations, it’s a win in their mind. They’ve gained another five yards by punching it through Whitey’s defensive line. Sure, most Whites see it as just letting something inconsequential go. Why bother to get worked up if some ‘spanic wants to cut in line at the movies? Because it’s a test. It’s an assault. And we are coming up on the short end in these assaults, we are losing these “contests” most of the time. For now. Until we Whites relearn the concept of “team” as it applies to our race, it’s only going to get worse.
Whenever you get a chance, derail them. Put your mind to it. You'll think of ways to do it without being obvious.
Thanks for putting up with today’s rant. Hope it made sense.
*Never should have beens: Most non-whites in the world today wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for White charity of some sort. Most of that “charity” coming from moneys extracted from the wallets of Whites via confiscatory tax schemes, and sent to non-White hell holes to up the birth rates. The rest of the money is sent to non-Whites inside the US to facilitate breeding via public housing, welfare, food stamps, WIC and more. There should be billions less non-Whites in the world, but we are being worked to death by our governments to make us pay for our destruction.
