Racist vs. Unracist vs. Overtly Unracist

Let me start off by defining the terms. To be racist is to address race in any way, shape, or form. Some people use the term “racial” to identify unmalicious racism. Strictly speaking, anything that’s racial is also racist but people usually define racism as the hateful discrimination of race. It is universally agreed that negative racism is bad (unless you’re a racist asshole) therefore people try to be unracist.

By strict definitions, being unracist would simply be not addressing race at all. However, due to the negative connotation of racism, people become overtly unracist instead, going out of their way to be nice to minorities. I’m not against overt unracism if one feels inclined to do so, but one should not be expected to be an overt unracist. People often go out of their way to be extra nice because of white guilt. But guess what? I’m not white so people should not expect me to be extra nice. I’m still going to be nice, but I’m not going to be extra nice to you because of race.

Being completely unracist and pretending like race doesn’t exist is stupid too. But because a lot of people are stupid and would get mad at anything that sounds remotely racist, it actually becomes smart to be completely unracist if you don’t want to infuriate (stupid) people. I don’t have a job, career, or livelihood to lose so I don’t worry about being completely unracist. If we have to pretend that race doesn’t exist, why don’t we also pretend like our genitals don’t exist. While we’re at it, let’s get rid of the brain as well.

A vast majority of people are overly obsessed with political correctness. A vast majority of people are stupid. There are a lot of people who fear the word “nigger” as if saying the word would threaten their lives. Let me tell you a story of how I used the word “nigger” and a black guy threatened to beat me up. Classy.

On episode 14 of my podcast, I told a story of a “nigger purse”. I was chatting online with a black friend and as a goof, I wanted to work the word “nigger” into the conversation and make it look like an accident. I analyzed the keyboard and saw that I could pass it off as mistyping the word “bigger”. So I worked my way into pretending to mistype “nigger purse” when I “meant” to type “bigger purse”.

I find that story funny and it’s only funny because “nigger” is such a charged word. Some people may find it offensive and the only reason for that is because the word “nigger” popped up. George Carlin said it best when he said that context is what matters. If I called my friend a nigger, that would’ve been a whole different story but that didn’t happen. “Nigger purse” is as innocent as the word can be used because it’s fictitious and sounds ridiculous. Should the word “nigger” absolutely be never used? Absolutes are stupid. Murder is bad, but should we absolutely never murder? If there’s a Hitler performing genocide right now, should we let him live and continue the genocide because murder is absolutely bad? Unironically (or ironically?), some religious fanatics would stick to the absolute.

My black friend heard the podcast and was deeply offended, solely because the word “nigger” popped up. I do feel bad and apologized for the goofing because he was the brunt of the joke. I only feel bad because nigger is such a bad word. It shouldn’t be a bad word, but it is. Even so, I do not believe it’s something to be hysterical over. So where does this leave things? Am I a racist? Maybe, but I’m not malicious. I have been perfectly nice to this black friend and did several extended favors for him with no intention of asking for anything in return. If he can’t accept that I don’t fear the word “nigger”, then begone with him.

If he does beat me up, I wonder how the judicial system would look at this case. I wonder if a black judge would make a difference.

Discrimination and Internet

From time to time, I voice my opinion about gay people, retarded people, or people of other ethnicities, usually black. The problem is, I don’t know any gay retarded black people and I also don’t know anyone who’s gay or retarded or gay. Oops I typed gay again. I meant black. Due to my lack of interactions with these people, my opinions are completely baseless. I mean, who knows… maybe after meeting some of these people, it turns out that I really hate them. Maybe I haven’t been discriminating enough.

All kidding aside, I honestly don’t have much of an opinion on these matters. Although I wrote something negative about a race, I don’t think it’s actually racist. That’s because the butt of the joke isn’t the gays or the blacks or the retards; the butt of the joke is me for being so wildly ignorant and stupid. Too bad there are so many people on the internet that’ll go right ahead and get offended at the sight of some of these words.

Speaking of the internet, I hate my internet. I switched internet service providers recently and the new one sucks. Basically, whenever I download something, I can no longer load new pages. That means I can no longer download porn while looking for more porn to download while streaming porn on my second monitor. How am I supposed to live this way? What’s that? Meet a real girl you say? Are you out of your mind?

Offensive Words

It always boggles me why people get offended by the sight or sound of a word, regardless of context. It’s ridiculous that someone can get offended when I tell them that I was making retard noises in bed. How else would you describe that noise? Go ahead, try. Plus, I wasn’t being a retard in anyone’s face or anything. I was just being retarded on my own. When did it become a crime to be a retard and be conscious enough to describe it as such.

The other word people fear is the word nigger. They fear the word almost as much as they fear black people. Unless you’re black, you can’t be offended by that word. White people don’t want to hear that word because it makes them feel guilty. Everyone else just doesn’t want to be in the same room when a black guy hears it.

My Mom Vs. Normal Part I

I always bitch about how my parents annoy me and on a few rare occasions, I wonder if I’m the one at fault. Maybe I’m just easily annoyed and they’re not actually that annoying. But then they brilliantly come in and prove me wrong. There are many ambiguous situations where it seems like I’m pissed at them for asking a perfectly normal question, but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t asked quite so perfectly normal(ly? this sounds weird… oh well).

To the untrained eye, I might seem like the bad guy but people who have annoying people in their lives will understand me. You have to bear in mind that my mom is constantly so annoying and that there are no existing pleasant experiences with her. Even if it’s not THAT bad, she overwhelms me with quantity. If you don’t have someone like that in your life, you simply won’t understand. You can’t just imagine yourself in that position because human imagination sucks. You just can’t understand just like how I would never understand what it’s like to be a black person. I’ll never know what it’s like to have a big dick, dance well, and see floating eyes and teeth in the mirror at night.

So I volunteered to drive my brother from the airport tomorrow and my mom annoyingly asked me if I’ve set up a meeting with him yet… and I got annoyed. Let’s analyze what my mom just did and how a normal person should’ve done it. First of all, if she trusts me, I shouldn’t even be questioned at all. Sure, it would be okay to give me a passing reminder but the key words are “passing” and “reminder”. What my mom did was a failed attempt at firm interrogation. A normal person might just ask if I remember about tomorrow and I’ll say “yup” and that’s the end of a normal pleasant conversation. The person reminding me knows that it’s a reminder and that it’s a brief conversation, so she would probably be doing something else or just walking past. Of course, my mom did the complete opposite. She walked into my room, planted herself next to me, and asked if I’ve told my brother that I’m driving him yet. The wording is so negatively presumptuous. She assumes that there’s even a delay between my volunteering and updating my brother on the information. Annoyed, I just grunted “yeah” and that COULD have been the end of a not so pleasant, but not terrible, exchange of words. But then she goes on and asks if I’ve discussed where to meet him yet. Really? I need HER help to do this? Bear in mind that I’m a very self sufficient person who can do everything on my own and never fails and never asks for help. Meanwhile, she’s a publicly stupid person who fears doing stuff she’s unfamiliar with and asks for help all the time. I don’t need any help and I did, she wouldn’t be helpful anyway.

To back myself up even more, my aunt once asked my mom to pick her up at the airport and my mom said no because she doesn’t know how to drive to the airport. She genuinely believed that was a legit excuse and had no ill intentions but it was stupid nonetheless. Nobody’s born knowing how to drive to the airport. The question is whether the person is worth learning to drive to the airport for and my mom’s response was no.

Do, or Don’t Do

It is easier to tell somebody to not do something than it is to tell somebody to do something.

That’s all I wanted to write but I’m not about to leave this as a tweet-sized entry so I’ll beef this up with some bullshit filler. That statement is pretty universal save for two exceptions. If a person is physiologically addicted to a substance, then it would be easier to do than not do. The other exception is just semantics, double negatives. My biggest struggle with life right now is to not be a lazy bum. To be a lazy bum is to do nothing. So to tell me not to be a lazy bum is to tell me to do something.

I know I’ve previously stated that I don’t want to write too much about depression crap because it’s not funny and no one gives a shit. Since this is already an unfunny entry, I’ll throw in another thought I’ve been having. I don’t want to die. But even more so, I don’t want to live. My affinity to being suicidal is only because death is the lesser of two evils, given how shitty life is. I’m not suicidal (yet) because I’m living one hell of a dream life. Right now I’m just bumming at home with no financial responsibilities or any other kind of responsibility, Each day, I only need to worry about entertaining myself but life is already barely worth living. Why would doing more of what I don’t like (work, job, employment) to get less of what I already have (basically everything), make me want to live more. And if I don’t want to live, then why bother. Like I said, it’s fine at the moment, but I’m just planning ahead for when I lose my financial freedom, and I will. My parents aren’t wealthy so even if I leeched off them for the rest of their lives, I won’t inherit enough to sustain myself for another year so it’s just an inevitability.

God dammit I’d hate to just end it there so let me try to brighten things up a little. Umm… on the bright side… I did not have black diarrhea yesterday .

(black diarrhea reference: https://tedgaming.wordpress.com/2013/06/11/shit-stories-part-i/)

Sketch Ideas Part I

These sketch idea entries are going to be brief. Although each idea can be expanded greatly, I will not be doing any expansions. These ideas will be so great that anyone would be able to think up multiple hilarious scenarios spawning from the premise.

You know the saying “good cop, bad cop”? Well, I’m here to say “good cop, black cop”. That’s all I’m going to say for this one.

This next sketch is an authority figure handing out rape whistles but then he runs out of whistles so he hands a party blower as a replacement. There’s such a sweet ironic imagery because both items technically function the same way but the tone they present is so different.

rape party blower

Shit Stories Part I

I was peeing and there was a mosquito flying within the confines of the bowl. Once it was hit by my stream, I thought it would go down and that would be the end of that. But instead, it flew back up into the air towards me. I was attacked by a mosquito soaked in my own urine…

I'm also soaked.

I’m also soaked.

That was a piss story but I thought they’re similar enough that I won’t make a whole separate entry for it. I don’t feel like writing up a long shit story right now so I’ll just squeeze in a short one so that there’s at least some shit in here. Umm… yesterday, I had black diarrhea. That’s all. It’s not much of a story. Just a shit fact.

Check out my black lingerie.

Check out my black lingerie.