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Old Devil Part 3: 8/10/21
© 2021 James LaFond
This occurred, yesterday, August 9, 2021, on the paved banks of the mighty Ohio at a gas station. Rick had returned from training all amped up on caffeine, went to the supermarket, and then forgot my sports drink. He headed back out. When Rick returned to the kitchen while I was speaking with his mother and her friend and Mescaline Franklin in the dinning room, he waved me in and asked me if his nose was marked or bent. Then, as I looked for something, he said, “If you have to look that hard, its fine. Thanks, I'll tell you and Mescaline later.”
Old Devil Speaks:
I headed down to the the gas station where the little Indian guy has been hiding behind the plastic shield for over a year. I get your drinks and say to the guy, “Thanks a lot for taking down the shield—good for you. It's nice to see you.”
I was feeling good.
But when I had parked, I am so used to driving a bigger car since I rented that Charger and didn't want to have to pay for scratching up the fender, that I pulled up kind of far from the curb. But I'm in and out like that.
I get out and I get into the car, and there is this big, fat younger guy gassing his car over by the pump and he looks at me and sneers and calls me an asshole.
I looked at him as I got into my car and he said, “Asshole!”
So I roll down my window and say, “Do we have a problem?” and he says, “You shouldn't park like that, asshole!”
So—I know Jimmy, this as a dick move and I shouldn't have done it and my road rage should be behind me now—but I'm so sick of people hiding behind their glass and flipping me off and calling me names while I'm driving as if I can't follow them home—so fuck this fat piece-of-shit!
I'm not good at estimating land whale weight because of the blubber. But he was about six foot two, since I'm five-eleven and he was fat and pear-shaped, not too sloppy for an American...
[I ballpark the landwhale at 6'1” 250 pounds.]
So, I pull up next to him and say one more time, “Do we have a problem?”
“Yeah, you shouldn't park like that!”
So I get out and step up to him and say, “Why is it any concern of yours? I didn't park next to you or take up any of your space. It's none of your business.”
He steps closer so I went to push him back [with one hand on his throat and the other on his chest] and I'm weak, I have no success. I've always been able to push big fat fucks around. And this thing, with a beard, he is brushing off my hands and running his mouth which pisses me off.
So I hit him twice [two short arm hooks from the shovel angle] and catch him on the face [cheeks] and he staggers back.
Jimmy, my shit was weak. I was pissed. I should have dropped this guy. I need some pointers—because you know what, I liked this, I want more of this. Fuck these white people! A Negro would have at least had the sense not to pick a fight with some guy like me who obviously doesn't give a shit.
So, I got to give it to the fat fuck, he steps to me and I'm not having it. Mind you, I have pushed him once and hit him twice and he still isn't fighting, just running his mouth.
This fat fuck steps up to me, looking down into my face and “Bam!” I head-butted this mother-ficker in the nose and split it open and then he stepped back again, further, where I wanted him.
No, there was no blood coming out of the nose, it was a surface cut. Even then he won't fight, but keeps complaining about my parking, so I took the gas hose out of his car and stepped up to him and said, “Motherfucker, you should leave me alone. I aught to soak you in this shit and light your ass up!
Then he starts begging me to do it, to soak him in gas and light him up!
“Go ahead, do it! Set me on fire!”
What the fuck?
At this point, the clock is running and the cops wouldn't be long, so I threw down the gas hose, got in my car and drove, and while I was driving off he is holding the gas hose like its a light saber and he's going to get me with it. Maybe he'll use the gas hose gambit on some other fat fuck—maybe I improved his game?
This guy was bigger than me, at least ten years younger and was as unwilling to fight as he was willing to pick a fight.
Jimmy, what the hell is going on?
Woke Devil Speaks
Beginning with Brovid Jiveteen Advent, in March 2020, myself and five other older paleface combatants I am close to have been threatened harm and challenged to fights by younger, larger white non-combatants, who all backed way down when evil started to ooze their way. This has happened in Portland, three Pennsylvania towns including this one and in Baltimore.
I am chalking it up to the extreme bitch-titted feminization of the North American Land Whale of the Ivory genus. It is no longer even thinkable for a police officer of ivory hue to offer violence to a person of superior and godlike ebony hue. For the white peasant to affront his dark lord is even further beyond the pale.
So, the sense is, and I think it is mostly instinctive, based on media conditioning, that in this world of ebony godhood and ultimate vaginal authority that our hated kind are the only people anyone can imagine the State backing them up against.
With Americans, everything comes down to mindless worship of the State, the Sacred System of Control. After being locked up like livestock by no means other than media commands, with no need to even send out the army and police to check homes for visitors like in more masculine Australia, the Faggots of Planet Faggatron yearn to be human again and to feel some kind of power—and the only universally hated being in sight is the paleface.
For these reasons, as illustrated by Rick's recent adventures, I have for years been predicting that the target of the toxic wrath of white people [meaning middle class, university eductated and upper class and gay and liberal and tranny and conservative Cuckmericans] will be the paleface. Consider, that the English ancestors of American White People, back when they were called Christians, hated the working class lowlife of European descent so much that they spent fortunes bringing African slaves to this misbegotton nation to displace us, and have ultimately set them upon us in a quest for out extermination.
I Am THE DEVIL hated by the Conservative American Money Church and the Liberal American Media Faith.
But I have at least one equally hated Brother in Deviltry, Rick, the Candide of White Devils, who cannot conceal his nature from the ever-hungry cannibal ϲunt that is America. For this alone I would love him.
This morning, as Rick and I drank coffee, I looked into the fridge for the sports drink and saw that it was not diet, but regular and said, “Bro, I really appreciate you braving the slings and arrows of the landwhale for my hydration, but I can't drink this shit—it's not on Rick's list!”
Pittsburgh, Tuesday, August 10
harm city to chicongo
Ajay 1
z-pill forever
under the god of things
the greatest boxer
broken dance
the greatest lie ever sold
barbarism versus civilization
the sunset saga complete
beasts of aryаs
Shep     Nov 3, 2021

Huh. Usually the Irish Kiss is a game-winner. Rick musta lost weight in his head.
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