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Roy Batty
Daily Stormer
September 28, 2018
There are a lot of non-White Genocide and Jew-related things that really get under my skin.
Like the way Boomers eat. Have you ever seen it? They mutilate their food. They don’t know how to use a fork and a knife. They always finish whatever is on their plate, even if they’re not hungry anymore. Disgusting animals. I can’t stand to even be around Boomers and food anymore.
What else, what else…
Oh yea, dudes who play around with their alcohol levels. It’s such a basic rule. You’re not supposed to go down in like, alcohol strength – only up.
I’m not explaining this well.
Here.
Beer===>Vodka.
This is the natural progression. Softer to harder.
This is the opposite of a natural progression.
Beer===>Vodka===>Wine===>some Cocktail===>Beer again.
Like, even if you try to buy me a beer after I’m already on vodka, I’m not going to go back down to beer, and I don’t care what names you call me, you’re the one being a buzzkill here not me, this is basic drinking knowledge and I find it shocking that you still don’t know it.
And what is so bad about just starting with vodka and keeping it on vodka for the night. Why you gotta play around? Let’s just get to business and drink.
Amateurs.
Anyways, the third thing that really grinds my gears is people parading their retards around and making everyone else uncomfortable.
RT:
A woman who snapped at a young girl with special needs for apparently cheering too loudly at a Houston Astros game has faced a furious online backlash.
Chloe Beaver, 8, was supporting her beloved Astros against the Los Angeles Angels on Sunday when a woman sitting in the row in front turned round and sternly told her “enough.”
Yeah, I’ll say. Enough is enough.
An equally acceptable one-liner: “step OFF!”
Couldn’t find a higher quality gif that was small enough to upload
Chloe’s mother, Monica, shared the clip on Facebook, explaining that her daughter suffers from disruptive mood dysregulation disorder (DMDD) which means that she “can’t comprehend emotions greater than that of a toddler.”
8yr old Chloe was cheering at Sunday’s @astros game when a fan sitting in front yelled, “enough!” Chloe’s mom says she has DMDD (Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder) which means she can’t comprehend emotions greater than that of a toddler. Her cheering abruptly stop. Thoughts? pic.twitter.com/auhg4mDKB7
— Stephen Morgan Fox 26 (@StephenOnFOX) September 25, 2018
And then social media tore the righteous woman a new asshole for standing up to the little monster and her enabling parents.
Sickening.
Like, I’m just going to come right out and say it.
You should be ashamed of having a sick child.
You shouldn’t be parading that shit around in front of other people and daring them to react with disgust only to SMITE them over social media.
That’s fucking bullshit and these parents know it.
Our society has no shame anymore.
Like, if I have a bad zit, I try to cover that shit up. If I have a ketchup stain on my shirt, I try to rub it off in the bathroom and hope no one noticed. I still have some shame.
But I remember there was this one kid. This is not just my anti-Semitism talking, I’m pretty sure he was Jewish. And he was a half-vegetable, basically. Drooling and moaning and twitching around in his wheel-chair.
I did see him get up and walk once, actually…
And to this day, I wish that I hadn’t.
He was like an abnormal Titan.
Bile and disgust rise up inside of my throat as I write this. The recollection nauseates me.
The mother was haggard and always getting into squabbles with the neighbors. In retrospect, it’s clear to me now that she was in full protection mode, trying to defend her helpless drooling devil spawn.
But I was scared by the retard, and put off by her. I tried to pity it and show empathy, but it always struck me as false, especially because I would reflexively stop breathing while I was in the same elevator or anywhere near it. Like I didn’t want to inhale the sickness or something.
And I would quietly say a thank you prayer to God that he hadn’t made me a monster once I was safely at home.
Used to feel bad about that.
Now I know that this is normal. A very healthy and natural reaction. We are attracted to beauty and repulsed by the deformed and diseased.
The sheer amount of id-suppression that these parents must do every day is mind-boggling.
And you and I both know what we should do with children like this as a society.
Because retards and the genetically deformed serve no purpose. They cannot procreate for the most part, and even if they can, should we encourage that?
Are we not trying to make the world better? Ourselves better? To eliminate ugliness and deformity, not celebrate it?
Above all things, I want to see a clean world. Whenever I see decay and the ugly, I feel this almost religious urge surge up within me as I vow to one day clean it up.
And there is so much ugliness in the world. If we let it all hang out, just start celebrating it, suppressing our id and our instincts and trying to medicate/fool ourselves into thinking it’s ackshully beautiful, and akshully quite inspiring or whatever the fuck…
Can’t even finish my thought.
I just… it makes me so despondent sometimes.
That’s exactly what we have going on in the West right now.
Every time you go outside, it’s a freak show.
And you have to turn that filter on. Where you just pretend to not notice. And when you get home, you’re so exhausted, and you don’t even know why. Well, it’s because you were suppressing the instinct to cry out in outrage for the entire day.
Trying not to notice the smell of piss in the metro, the black bum screaming his head off on the corner of the street, the vet with one leg in his wheelchair, the plastic wrappers everywhere, the gay hook-up apps being advertised on buses.
“Get yourself tested today!” – with a red ribbon wrapping around a black guy and a white woman canoodling in each other’s arms.
“I am not invisible.” – a picture of a poo-colored child refugee with big doleful eyes that they want to bring over into my neighborhood.
A fat White woman walks by, some scrawled on doodle of ink visible between the sweat-stained spaghetti straps on the back.
A faint wiff of weed that becomes stronger as the car with blacked out windows blaring rap music drives past you.
So much filth that needs to be cleaned.
Drives me crazy, yo.
