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OffTopic

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originally posted in:The Friends List
Edited by Mmmmm Napalm: 5/2/2015 4:36:19 PM
51

Racism in the United States knows no bounds. It's sickening.

So just like the racism and appalling police brutality we're seeing in Baltimore, I also encountered blatant racism where I live, at the local supermarket. My tragic story begins when I left the house in my traditional garb, and almost forgot my gaderffii, but thankfully I remembered to grab it before mounting my mode of transport. A couple hours later, I arrived at the supermarket, where I would encounter absolutely horrifying racism. I'm still traumatized, in all honesty. I made my way to the meat section, and upon finding what I was looking for I yelled my tribe's traditional harvest cry, and raised my gaderffii in the air. Unfortunately, this is where my terrible ordeal began. A nearby descendant of the settlers who slaughtered fellow members of my culture began laughing and pointing, and called me a horrible racial slur that I will only repeat in order to illustrate my plight and the traumatizing instance I endured. [spoiler]He said I was a... "Sandperson."[/spoiler] I responded as dictated by my culture, and by no means were my actions illegal. As is necessary in such a situation, I defended my tribe's honor, yelling my warcry and proceeding to swing my gaderffii at the bastard, who further insulted my honor, laughing as though my righteous attack was amusing. It was then I was overcome with rage. I swung my traditional weapon at the face of this blasphemer, impacting the side of his disgusting face, leaving him unconscious upon the ground. Unfortunately, before being able to complete the defense of my people's honor, I was come upon by more prejudiced individuals, who claimed my actions were illegal, citing flimsy evidence such as their oppressor laws. With one of them appearing rather muscular and having a frightening voice, I felt the only foreseeable option was to flee. I made my way home, filled with despair and righteous anger, until I arrived at my residence, where my sorrowful tale ends. I have been denied my honor, my culture, [i]my identity.[/i] I feel I have suffered abuses of a caliber far exceeding those felt by the likes of Martin Luther King Jr., or the peaceful protesters currently being brutalized in Baltimore. And yet, as I sit, tears dripping down the eye-holes of my mask; tears shed for all Tuskins currently suffering widespread oppression, I cannot help but remind my fellow Tuskins of our people's proverb regarding times of suffering: [b]"HUUURRRREEEHHHHURRHURRHURRHURRHUUUUUUUUURRRRREEEEEH"[/b]
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