FUNNY FICTION: Satan’s Cutesy White Angels – not do you Think?
Meant to be taken with a gallon of salt
(In other words, DO NOT take this, uh, “serially”.
By Karen Cole
FIRE FIGHTERS WON’T SAVE US!!!
They flee the forest fires, then email an autoresponder like this: We’ll be back in the office in about one week from now (or in other words, lotsa luck.) That’s the Forest Services for ya. They spot the fire coming, and then THEY LEAVE.
Well, you may have noticed them. Rank Aryans, really. All white and racially pure. This is a story based on true life events. When you look around, you see people. Wonderful, slightly depressed people, who know they are due for something better for them than just working for a living. People who were taught to play as kids, people who look like buildings…a little too much.
Anyway said people are white. Stark staring? No, more or less a healthy shade of pink, from the blood running under their skin. Their skin is dead when you look at it, so they all look a bit too good. Something is up with that. Lack of a major political orgy? Something rotten in the state of mayonnaise and sugar? Something that means that those people are angels, of some kind?
Right, you see. They can’t possibly be people, but it’s always consider the source. So they may be overly evolved humans, getting ready to be in extreme pain during global warming. They look like the most ultimate thing in blond-blue-eyed specialized depressed angry humans, but what if that is not so? What if instead, they are all tall, smaller headed, and getting ready for the total lack of pain that being in Hell delivers? What if they are Satan’s Angels?
They must show mercy on us sooner or later. They must step aside, take lesser jobs such as grocery store clerk, or duck hunters. They know that life itself is no picnic, only another attempt to bring them death too soon. They are White Aryans, and not racial supremacists. They know they have to either work for a living, be on welfare, or be independently wealthy. What is life for them? A frowning smile on an empty face, looking for something new.
Maybe they all need sex with Black America. Maybe that has already happened. Maybe this, maybe that. What if they are our tall friends, with less brain capacity to worry about how much agony they must keep to their silent selves? New improved humans, like a certain German philosopher said once, but nobody can live their lives for them. Where they are going, who knows? Some of them are Jewish, and some of them are other people.
And one of them wrote this story, with no capacity to be them. I’m seen as a tall witch, something that can never attain Whiteness Whitey Hood. I’m a former Robin Hood, a ghost writer, a saint in my own right. I saved Seattle, WA and the surrounding environs many long years ago.
I saved it for them. So they can make it up into Canada. The glaciers there are slowly melting back, and the same with the ones in Iceland and Greenland. It is too early for the death of the human race. Brown and Black people shine like demented stars, along the way to roads in space. Everyone in America comes from somewhat else now, somewhere else really. I come from Ohio, and my husband comes from a place called Viet Nam, or Nam Viet. Vietnam. He knows what I’m talking about, because he fought a war for someone else’s country there. He’s just far, far nobler than he knows he is.
Me, I hail from the most overcrowded state in the Union.
I would like to be able to kill people and get away with it? No, not at all. I’m waiting for some kind of major event that already happened, called extreme tornados in Ohio. There is no need to kill another human being, ever again. No need whatsoever. We shouldn’t even be aborting our fetuses. Under any conditions whatsoever, but I’m a woman, and I like the idea of choosing not to be raped, and leaving the act of pregnancy as something that is my decision instead of being raped, at that. I hear from praiseworthy right-wingers.
I would like to die for your purpose of saying anything you want whatsoever. I’d like to die for a reason, but not just yet, no not that. They removed my favorite Founding Father, whom I think was Patrick Henry. President Obama is discussing whether or not to use the missiles on Isis or Isil there and letting us stew about it for a change. He wanted to be assassinated and is frustrated about it not happening yet. He even has to hate his wife a little bit.
I’m still waiting for Mickey, Minnie, Donald and Daisy to don the mouse ears hat, but Daisy is quite dead in a traffic wreck back there somewhere. Well, where can this ramble go now? Onto one of my blogs. I don’t need a moving herd of huge white Aryans, Hitler gave me the word for them, and is blasted ding-dong right about something for a change. I’m not one of them.
I’m German-American and the above was my lack of multi-cultural nonsense. I’m just an American, not anything else really, part Cherokee and some other stuff. I’m writing a book called “The Rainbow Horizon” and this rant is going onto both Ezine Articles and my own blog, or just the latter case. This rant is due to me being on a new medication, with very little left to write about.
I think the large moving herd of Aryans will find a way. I had a teacher back in Junior High School who said he has no idea where it came from. Me either, Mack, I don’t understand being the shortest person everywhere I go. I just hang in there, baby, really, and the lack of mercy from God is all I can comprehend. We are mostly making money as a general American rule. We are torturing animals, to get our meat, and experimenting with people “funny.” We Americans are living off the Chocolate Slaves, in a very confusing manner. We Americans are suddenly unable to understand what bad people we are not. We Americas are trying to kill time now, and waiting for the WA State lottery to come though. We Americans have been friendly to me, in all cases.
If not, I would not have been alive to have written this short story.
Meanwhile, thank you for Gratitude, my sweet lord God. Thank you, Allah, for being something further along. But we are supplying the enemy with the money, the weapons, and everything else they need to keep the War Machine going. We are responsible for their actions at all times. They don’t know where else to go, apparently, except to throw their weapons down and to be in Hollywood movies, under conspiracies having to do with the Freemasons on a regular basis. I thought I was in the Ku Klux Klan once, and it’s just another attempt to blame women for them, or to kill off their women and children…
…I don’t know which one. Do YOU?
End of ramble: we are all now human lives of value, like Jews, Blacks and Native Americans said, and we should all be racing into the medical field. My daughter is thinking about it, joining it to see what will happen. I used to work in it. My prior day job was to be a lowly butt wipe for the Disabled, who don’t seem to need my kind anymore. The job went obsolete in ten seconds. Just like overnight, we had the first Black President of the United States…and we still do! No, there are still Home Health Care Aides in spite of AIDS and Personal Care Attendants in spite of Escort Services and Sexual Slavery Worldwide, which may already be gone by the time I type this.
GOD. What does he think about all those large Aryans? I hope he noticed them. Anyway, I’m just killing time anymore, and waiting for money to come rolling in from my family. I’m just another human being who needed the Seattle Police Department to go on living, and that is the sound of one hand clapping. I’m a martial artist who hung it up for Gandhi, and you are now significantly reaching the end of this rather demented, rambling story.
They met once, you know?
White People are the Right People. But, who is Left?
Jesus Christ – the Seattle Jaycees, you and me.
Jerry Can. Can what? It holds gas for hybrid vehicles. Do not sprinkle with gasoline, buy gas masks (one for each family member, due to super-heated onrushing air) and heavy woolen blankets. BUT DON’T GET THEM WET. Hit the freeways, while keeping those inside. Look for orange color over the Horizon. Etc.