On this particular visit, I was done shopping and standing at the back of a very long line of coons and wetbacks who were stocking up for the month. I had forgotten that today was welfare check day, and every darky in town was out celebrating and buying (and shoplifting) everything they could get their hands on. Every last cart was full to overflowing with food and booze. I'm not talking about a working man's diet either. Every cart was loaded with huge packages of the best steaks, chops, and seafood money could buy. I stood gap-mouthed at the obvious cost of this haul. Of course we are the ones paying for all this, not them. Each mud whipped out a welfare card and charged the entire load to you and me. I looked at my own cart and shook my head. It didn't look anything like theirs. I lived on a budget, just like every other white in America, who can't afford spit, thanks to the government cleaning us out to the point we can barely buy anything. And now they want even more...

I was standing there, minding my own business, when a wetback bitch eyed my cart and then nudged her husband. She pointed to the pitiful little load I was buying compared to their massive haul, and they snickered in arrogant delight. They knew exactly why there was such a stark difference, and they were gloating over it. They were robbing me right there in front of God and everybody, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. This was wetback evil in its refined state. I pay for my food, and I pay my bills. Something these parasites haven't done since the day they snuck into our country. I deserve what I have. That's the difference between us and them. The thing that seems to escape most whites is the fact that all that food these maggots are hauling out of that store, and all the stores around the country, belong to YOU. It's no different at all than if they were to break into your home and steal it from your refrigerator. And our own government is forcing us to allow this. This is treason...

I just can't express the rage that builds inside me whenever I see this kind of thing going down. And guys, the store was packed with these parasites. And all across the city, and all across the state and nation, our stores are packed with millions upon millions of these thieving bastards every first week of each month. And they take all this food home and use it to feed the monstrous brood they're creating right under our noses. I passed an elementary school today and watched as hundreds and hundreds of kids ran and played in the schoolyard. But there was something horribly wrong with that picture. Every last kid there was a mudlet. Waves and waves of little brown bastards, growing up to fill our prisons and gangs, and become the next huge generation of white hating rapists, robbers and murderers...

But back to the mud mart:
As I stood in line, a very tall and extremely ugly buck jammed his cart ahead of everyone else, daring any of the other muds to say anything. Fortunately for him I was in another line, or he'd have never gotten away with it. Then I got a closer look at this ape and what he was doing. His cart was full to overflowing with endless packets of chicken! If it sounds like the old cliche', you're right. Another chicken loving nigger who was in hog heaven today, because whitey was paying for all dis' cheeken! Can I get a yowzaah? I was aghast at this sight. There was absolutely nothing else in his cart. Nothing but raw chicken! I shook my head in amazement and disgust. But ole' Rastus wasn't finished amazing me yet, nosirree. As he stood there bored to death (He obviously couldn't read, so grabbing one of the magazines to pass the time was out.), and looked around impatiently while the checkout line crawled at a snail's pace. Blacks are notoriously slow at checkouts, always enraging any whites behind them. That's because they're never ready to pay when it's time, and have to go digging for their card and money. Then they have to try and operate the scanner, which is really hard for most. On top of that they always start arguing about the price of items, and always want the manager so they can try to weasel the price down. It's always a never ending parade of nigger attitude...

Suddenly a very dim light bulb went off in Rastus' head and he reached in his pocket.. and pulled out a lint covered drumstick of fried chicken, I shit you not! There's no telling how long that moldy piece of bird had been rolling around in his unwashed pants, but he didn't even pick the lint off as his gigantic rubber lips wrapped themselves around that drumstick like the foot of a snail. I felt the gorge rise in my throat. His big white, soft boiled egg eyes rolled up in his simian head in pure nigger ecstasy as he bit down into that chunk of petrified chicken leg. This coon was the epitome of all the stereotypes I'd ever heard about niggers and fried chicken, and I busted out laughing right there in the store. A lot of the other muds stared at me in hostile curiosity, but I was careful to keep my eyes off the subject of my mirth, or the store would have instantly filled with flapping lips about "cibo raahts" and bein' "racis' ". Racist my rosy white butt. He's a typical coon, I don't care if he's polka dotted. Gazing around, I noticed an old white woman who was also taking in this spectacle, and you could have used her mouth for a dustpan. Shock and disgust were plastered all over her face. You don't have to be a white activist to know that these apes and their Mestizo cousins have no business in white society, anymore than a cockroach has at the dinner table...

Just when I thought things couldn't get any more niggery, I spotted another coon who was standing behind Rastus. He was eyeing him greedily as he chomped away on his drumstick. I watched him as he licked his lips like a dog eyeing his master's sandwich. The sight of his fellow chimp enjoying that drumstick finally was too much for him, and he reached over and tapped Rastus on the shoulder and said, "Hey my brutha, you wouldn't happen to hab anotha' piece o' cheeken in yo' pocket, now would you? Dat sho be lookin' tasty!" But old Mc'Chicken wasn't in the mood for sharing his treasure with another buck, and glared at him with open hostility. "Gitcho own cheeken muthafugga! Dis' heeah iz mine, you dig?" He shook his half eaten drumstick at his antagonist for punctuation. Now I was really having fun! A huge grin was plastered across my face, and try as I might, I couldn't wipe it off...

Well, buck number two didn't like the response he got from buck number one, and instantly there was a lip flap-o-rama as both coons lit into each other in a stream of profanities that would peel paint. Only blacks can cuss like that in public without a trace of shame. I had finished my checkout and was ready to leave, but instead I stood there in hopeful anticipation of a fight over said chicken between those two apes. Finally, just as it looked like they were going to go to blows, the store manager stepped in and threatened them both with the cops. This poor guy has a really crappy job. I wondered to myself just how many times a week he has to deal with crap like this. So I left in disappointment, my hopes of a fight dashed to the ground. Oh well, there's always tomorrow...

Unpacking my stuff at home, I wondered to myself if I shouldn't fry up a few pieces of chicken and start carrying them around in my shirt pocket with the leg sticking out, just to egg some coon into harassing me for it, so I'd have an excuse to put some knots on a worthless black skull. I nixed the idea however, when a vision of fifteen chicken crazed coons chasing me down the street came crowding into my head. As least I came away with one jewel of wisdom; When the race war starts, we'll be able to gather them by the dozen simply by placing a bucket of chicken in one spot in a parking lot. And while they're all fighting each other over which coon gets what, we'll be able to mow down the lot of them. Whatever it is about the taste buds of the black that makes them go so ape shit over chicken is a mystery to modern science. They'd sell their grandmother for a slice of watermelon, a rack of ribs, or a piece of fried chicken. All I can say is I'm glad it isn't "white meat" instead...