The disco. We go to disco. My body's sweaty from the MDMA inside it. I like to dance with you. You grab my ponytail. It is greasy with Germanic juices that I put inside my hair. Disco, we are the disco. I have a mesh shirt. My leather pants show off my sausage inside it. I grind your body, then we eat ecstasy and have Special K inside of the bathroom. It's a men's bathroom, but no one cares that you come inside because they know that inside it we do lots of drugs. And I will share them if the bouncer lets me go into the bathroom with you, and then we go home. We have efficient sex. And then I realize you're not that hot anymore because I've blown a load and I don't have ecstasy inside of my bloodstream. So I make sandwich. It has hazelnuts, bread, and some jelly that I got from the supermarket. It tastes pretty good, but it probably tastes better because my taste buds have ecstasy inside them. And then I go up to the bathroom, and you're wearing one of my shirts; that isn't cool. You didn't even ask. I met you earlier the evening; you're not my girlfriend, you're just girl that I have sex with. We probably won't do this again because I realize that your hair is frazzled and it probably has extensions. It's not your real hair, and that's kind of gross 'cause who knows where it came from.
>>18
Consider this: a pack of wild Niggers.
Savage, slavering Niggers nearing your white home. Trampling your white lawn. Raping your white daughter.
And you can't do shit since their savages. The Nigger leader grabs your wife and fucks her with his shaman stick.
The primal niggers finally dominate your household. They watch barbaric shows on TV and your are forced to be their slave.
Such is the downfall of white man.
I want to reconcile the violence in your heaaaaart. I want to recognize your beauty's not just a maaaaask. I want exorcise the demons from your paaaaast. I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heaaaaart.