This ain’t no garden party, bitch.

LBJ once said. “Liberals are a bunch of pussies; that’s why they never win anything.”

So, my bleeding-heart, shrinking violet liberal friends, and my complacent well-off white liberal-ish friends; if you haven’t gotten the memo yet, be aware that we are at war; and your kids are going to die–literally–in this war. Our enemies have not played by the rules, nor have they pulled any punches. Nor should we.

A complete and utter nut job is in power because you guys can’t stomach what it takes to get the job done, to completely annihilate the enemy; to smear their names and their families names all over the pavement for everybody to see. In this battle, nothing short of complete extinction will do, so stop cockblocking this form of guerrilla warfare and pick up a pen or pull up a podium and learn how to hit what you’re shooting at. Or get the hell out of the way of people who know how to do this shit.

To be clear, no right-wing nut-cases were harmed in the publishing of this article; this guerrilla operative infiltrated right-wing nut-job websites for data gathering, posted some fake news stories to get their one functioning brain cell firing, then trolled the living shit out of them.

What I am saying–and I’m sure you’ve noticed my rhetoric changing over the course of the past six months–is that when you have a racist friend or a white entitled friend, call them out on that shit. Don’t let up. Tell them their thinking is fucked up, and that therefore, their opinions don’t deserve to see the light of day. Shame them for being the stupid fucks that they are and stop inviting them to your annual block parties. And don’t just stop there; take on the racist or clueless assholes out in public–not your workplace, you need to keep your job.

Those jerks in line at the DMV bitching about government? Call them out for being ungrateful, spoiled little brats. Those red-hat-wearing motherfuckers at the military surplus store? They so much as utter one word about politics, and you should hand them their empty heads on a platter. That white lady salesclerk with giant fake nails complaining about people paying with food stamps? Tell her to shut her mouth and ring up the goddamned order before you go to her boss and get her ignorant ass fired so she can enjoy the food stamp life as well.

We are WAYYYYY too tolerant of each other. We need to grow some balls and cull our herds of people who have too many opinions and too few brains.

Oh, and while you’re at it, let’s go after those sissy vegan animal rights activists.  I’m a carnivore, bitch!  This, of all years, in Utah, the voting body of our state Democratic party feebly announced that their new priority was “animal rights,” (which is a pussy’s way of getting out of doing REAL social change) My suggestion for shutting them down? Hold a Carnivorous picnic right in front of them–rare beef steaks, ostrich burgers, rabbit stew, and squirrel souffle.

And keep your rifle nearby just in case a stupid city duck waddles by; fill that thing full of shot, pluck and gut the duck right in front of those Dems, chop it’s head off, wipe it’s ass, and cook it up in some tangy orange sauce.

When they complain, tell them to get over themselves. We are omnivorous. It’s written into our ancient history; the calories we gained by cooking meat allowed us to evolve into smarter apes. Our ancient predecessors–much like modern-day monkeys and birds–used tools–those tools enabled us to kill giant animals and chop up big chunks off of the carcasses we killed, and allowed us to carry away the meat and cook that shit up before a fearsome quadruped with claws and fangs came along and claimed the carcass for themselves.

Then, our brains grew bigger, because we used tools and fire to get enough calories to run those big brains. Then, we evolved into homo sapiens and made even more cool tools to kill and eat animals with, and then we found that, since we didn’t have to spend all the live-long day chewing fibrous roots and leaves, we had plenty of time left over to paint on cave walls, domesticate grass, and make bead necklaces–hence, modern-day barbecue cook-offs, gluten-free bakeries, and street festivals selling crappy home-made jewelry.

If they complain, tell them that if they don’t pull their heads out of their vegan asses, their kids will certainly be scavenging road kill–or each other–after our entire civilization has crumbled.



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