Saturday, 26 December 2015 00:00

Merry politically incorrect christmas

Merry Politically Incorrect Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Hillary got schlonged by a climate change mouseWhite privilege snow covered homes and casinos
Suppressing the rights of all blacks and latinosGay presents were wrapped by the best non-white races
While parents tucked children away in safe spacesThey lie there confused in their organic beds
With visions of gender-change drugs in their headsWhen out on the roof there arose such a clatter
I dropped the remote to see what was the matterI thought it was cops, so I leapt like the flash
I turned off the porn and covered my stashAnd there to behold was a man on a trike
It was transgender Santa dressed up like a dyke!He wore a gray pantsuit with a hole in the center
Had a body like Midler and face like Jenner"On Honkey and Redneck and Bigot and Kike!"
Screamed transgender Santa dressed up like a dykeThey clattered for minutes with rooftop taps
Reindeer bitching and moaning about gender pay gapsThen down from the chimney came a disfigured mass
It was transgender Santa, twerking frantic bare assNowhere were presents or gifts in his sack
But a hand-written note, "I identify as BLACK!"Santa opened his bag and spilled to the floor
Papers with more victim slogans galore"I'm offended!" "That's hurtful!" "I think that was MEAN!"
Slick crybully slogans spilled over the scene"No more toys!" said St. Nick, "No commercialization."
"This year I give gifts of victimization!"The libtards rejoiced and chugged Coke to get fatter
While grubbing for food stamps 'cuz Black Lives do MatterMore poverty, ignorance, and Obama race-baiting
Means years of rewards for the party of hatingTo get what they want, they use madness of crowds
They just pull out a slogan and read it aloud!The media screams how their plight is unjust
While entitlement spending pushes nation to bustTransSanta lay a finger aside of his nose
Then snorted some coke and upwards he roseHe flew back to his sweatshop of obedient Elves
With Planned Parenthood baby parts stocked on the shelvesRejoicing Big Brother confiscation and theft
He said: "Happy Holidays to all; and stay trapped on the left!"


Published in Editorial
Monday, 11 November 2013 02:27

Is he the King?

His arms were waving, trying to grab hold of him. A tooth splits in half. The air is laden with blood, his mouth is too. Who are they? With their faces contorted by rage. They want their fun.

His want to kill, which before was to get away, has sobered. I'm going down here!

Hair tears from skin while his right leg and foot beat his groin. Someone must hear, someone will come. Or I will die.

Loud clicks followed the sudden breeze. With his head back and legs slipping, the gound cracks into his arse. And like a pack of wolfs the three men kick, in rhythm. The tingling is everywhere. The rush. The blacking out.


Published in Stories
Monday, 11 November 2013 02:24

The Story of Victor

Victor lived in a small red brick house on a modern road that formed part of a network of similar roads with paths, and gardens with red brick houses. His front door was blue and the inside of his house was pleasant. Its decorations were the same as before he had moved there a few years ago, consisting of a mixture of florals, stripes and borders. The same carpet remained all the way throughout the house, but he had bought a rather jazzy rug to brighten up the living room.

There he sat, on his favourite chair, which he had bought recently from a trendy store that had been closing down. They could not deliver it and so he had sat on it all the way home in the back of a black cab. The driver had joked how he hoped that Victor's living room was bigger than the back of his cab, but it didn't seem that much bigger when he had arrived home.

Published in Stories


The truth needs no laws to protect it. WRH