What’s wrong with white men?

What is wrong with our white men?

Don lemon the mixed race black man said White men were the greatest threat to America. Of course, Mr. Lemon can get away with making race-antagonizing comments because he’s a lefty and that’s what lefties like to do. Of course, having the leftist owned media backing him has enormous benefits.
This isn’t the first time, leftists bashed white men, and they do it without fear. White men after decades of being labeled as the oppressors and racists, and browbeaten by their single mothers have gone effete. Not one squeak of protest was made against Mr. Lemon who surely senses how psychologically weak white men are. In this present day, it’s open season for shaming white men, and they take it like the broken men they are.
Not that I bash Mr. Lemon completely because he’s right to a certain extent- White men can be bad boys, and I mean real bad boys. But, what white people haters like Mr. Lemon don’t understand is without those bad boys AKA White men there would be no Western Civilization.
And, without Western Civilization, people of color would not enjoy the prosperity the white men made possible and they would die by the tens of millions like their forefathers did from famine, diseases or remain in bondage.
Yes, white men were oppressors much like the Mongols, the Arabs, the Turkomen, the Vikings, the Jews albeit much more sinister and deceitful, and the disgraced Nazis. Yes, they did cruel things just as others done. However, and there is a big however, it was White men who elevated humanity to the level it is today, and that is quite an accomplishment unmatched by all the other races of the world.
Leftists along with people of color taunt white men that they are no longer the bastions of power and might. If that’s the case then we can kiss this country goodbye. As much as the left sings their praises, people of color don’t have what it takes. Sorry.
So, if we’re going to survive white men must be bastions of power not just in political office but in the community, schools and home. We need them to be.
So we need our white men to be what they were meant to be- protectors, mentors, leaders, husband and most importantly- fathers. But they are faltering. Its a serious problem not only affecting the USA but Europe, Australia and New Zealand.
White men don’t have kids.
Black men do. Mexicans, Asians, Hindus, Muslims have kids- lots and lots of kids, but not so with white men.
I hike a lot. For me, hiking is like a small glimpse of the world. What I have been witnessing for the last 5 years is Western civilization going into retreat. Most of the people I hike with are white and half of them are men. The majority of the men have no children. And, Its not because they can’t afford them- they certainly can. They just didn’t want children. They view children as a burden. I can see the look of disgust on their faces at the mention of children. Forget about marrying. It’s startling and depressing. Only white men act like this. To me it’s a disease – a white man’s disease.
So, what caused this sickness? Is it easy living? Too many distractions? Maybe to some point. But something else is going on, and in my opinion it has to do with white women.
I’m stepping into dangerous territory but someone has to address it so it might as well be me.
Within the population of white women, there are those who are toxic, and its not due to personality but indoctrination. I’m ashamed to write that I was part of that toxic culture, too. It started in the late 60’s when I was very young. T
Sadly, that cultural indoctrination continues today. White women were encouraged to turn on their men, to view their men as the enemy, and treat them as the enemy by bullying, taunting, disrespecting and so on. Many caste aside the roles of mother and wife as if those roles were demeaning, That’s exactly what the left wanted and it had a bad effect on our men who saw us as creatures to be fearful of. I don’t know about other women but I don’t want men to be fearful of me. I want them to love and respect me as a woman.
The leftist indoctrinators who inhabited our high schools and universities went into high drive. They put into our minds very cleverly that marriage was just a piece of paper and having children was putting nature at risk. Unfortunately for western civilization, only whites listened. While non whites continued to populate, whites held back.- to save the planet, of course.
Year after year, decade after decade, leftist educators pushed an anti white men narrative. Women don’t need men, they would say, and we cheered because we believed our educators had our best interests at heart. They didn’t.
After researching on my own, I realized that we were being played for fools, women still are. Leftist propaganda had ruined, and continues to ruin our society by creating a divide between our men and us.
White women can easily reject the anti white men trend, and once again embrace family and marriage. We can regenerate our weakened society by standing up for our men. I’m not a feminist. I recognize that we are tribal animals, and the foundation of tribal life is based on the nuclear family- mother, father and children. We need our men to be a part of the family or there is no family. If there is no family then there is no society.
Destroying the family is a goal of communism. The left’s intense focus on destroying the family indicates that the family is of vast importance or else they wouldn’t bother. I wish white men and women would understand that because we are in their cross hairs. They want to take us out.
Traditionally, men are the provider, and women are the nurturers. Nurturing not only replenishes the family but society as a whole helping to keep it healthy. The left knows that and that’s why they want the roles of mother and father destroyed.

Men have historically protected the family, and so have women- at different angels. The woman’s role as both nurturer and protector is crucial. Women have the ability to protect their men from the leftist hate agenda. They can shut the left down very easily by standing up to them instead of joining in to shame their own men. It’s a woman’s duty to stand by her man and she shouldn’t hesitate to do so because lets face facts- its us against them. Through proper nurturing, women can coax men back to what nature meant them to be. Women are the glue that holds our society together. We have so much power in our hands and if we use it wisely we can restore confidence back to our men and rebolster our society.

That cat, Blue. A horror story

That cat, Blue
A horror story.

So you want to hear my story? Well, I guess I can tell you. Why not? I have plenty of time on my hands. Most prisoners do especially the ones waiting for their trial to get underway. You know what I’m accused of – murdering my dear wife, Mattie. You know some of the details but not all. The details I’m going to give are much more gruesome than what lawyers know.
You want to know how I was discovered? Hah. I’m here because of a cat. You look surprised. You’re probably thinking I’m playing with you but believe me I’m not. It’s all because of Blue that I’m here. Blue was my wife’s cat. Oh, I’m so angry for being done in by a little cat. I should have been more thorough. But that cat was on to me. She was much more intelligent than what I gave cats credit for. You want to know what happened to that cat? Let me tell my story first then I’ll tell you.
My wife had a thing for animals. Every Monday and Tuesday, after she finished work, she volunteered at the SPCA. Wednesdays and Thursdays, she volunteered at the wildlife center. When she wasn’t doing her volunteer work she was with her dog. She took her dog everywhere when it was ok for her to bring him- hiking, biking, trips to the beach- you name it. She named her mutt who was more pit-bull than anything- Dave. You know, Dave was the one the cops found with my wife, right? Dave loved my wife. He died protecting her. Did you know that? I bet you didn’t. He was the last dog. Mattie had two other dogs before she saved Dave. Her other dogs had run away- at least that’s what she thought. She was so heartbroken. I was the one who put into her head that they probably ran away. Dogs do that a lot, I consoled her. Still she couldn’t understand when she had loved them so much and they had loved her. It took so much discipline not to burst out laughing whenever I saw her eyes reddened and swollen. I tried hard not to snicker when she took her leash and went out into the streets calling out for Ben and later George. You see, my dear, her dogs had not run away. I killed them. Oh, stop looking shocked. You should know by now what I am. And just so you know, I laughed as I killed them. I love torturing creatures. Its something I loved to do since I was a kid. First it started with flies. I loved pulling off their wings and drowning them. Then I moved onto birds, mostly sparrows. I loved to drown them, too. I loved to listen them chirp crazily as they struggled in my clinched hand, pleading for their insignificant lives. It didn’t take long before I grew bored with birds and flies. Killing them didn’t give me the thrill I craved. I think I was about 13 when I moved onto dogs and cats. Nobody noticed. Who cares about strays? Oh, come on now. Spare me your tears.
You ask me why I’m so evil? Was I abused? Was I neglected? No. No. I was born evil!
Mattie and our children had absolutely no clue. Neither did our family or our neighbors. As far as everyone was concerned, I was the model husband. I was the model neighbor. If there was handy work to be done, I offered. If there was a lawn to be tended for a sick neighbor, I did it. Our neighbors adored us. They invited Mattie and I into their homes for bonfires, dinner parties, birthday parties and trips to the shore.
For a long time, my wife and I got along so well. Mattie fussed over the kids. She fussed over me. If I felt a cold coming on, Mattie jumped to action-making homemade chicken soup, cooing over me like I was a helpless child. If I felt fatigued, she rubbed my shoulders or my feet without hesitation. Every morning without fail, my clothes were set out and my shower started. When the kids and I came downstairs, breakfast was ready. Every evening, she had supper on the table. Our house was always clean. She worked but she made sure she was home before the kids got off the bus. She was what you would call a super mom, a super wife.
Then things changed. The kids grew up. Our two sons married and bought homes close by. Our two daughters went to college. They stayed local but lived at the dorms. Suddenly, we were alone. We were still young though with lots of years ahead. It was my hope now that we were empty-nesters, Mattie would settle down I like I had. But she didn’t, and that’s when our troubles started.
She joined a hiking club. She joined a biking club. On weekends, she hiked or biked or did both. She joined a gym and worked out during the week. She left early in the morning and was back in the house before I was out of bed. She was like an electrical charge that never lost its power. So it was that I aged but not Mattie. She grew more youthful, more vibrant.
Mattie begged me to work out with her, to go hiking and biking but I blew her off. I said I was too tired. Actually I wasn’t really tired. I just wasn’t interested in the gym or the outdoors. What I wanted was to play on my computer. I love computer games. Everyday like clockwork, after I ate dinner, I headed straight for my computer. It was my addiction. Everyone has an addiction. Don’t you agree?
After awhile, Mattie stopped asking. She had new friends now- much younger friends. Quite a few times, her cycling buddies came to our door for her. When they showed up, Mattie’s demeanor suddenly changed. She no longer walked but pranced. Her voice was no longer monotone. Her eyes shone with joy. She was a young girl again. She never acted like that when she was alone with me. I think that’s when I began to hate her.
On the weekends, she was gone for hours. I hated when she went out, and I hated that she had friends. She left me alone and I hated being alone. I wanted her home with me. Early one morning, she left with a promise to be back by the late afternoon. She left Ben home. That was a bad mistake. I told you that I killed strays when I was a young man. Well, I never stopped. I enjoyed killing too much although I never killed an animal that I knew. But Mattie leaving me alone to hang changed all that.
Ben was a big German Shepard, a beautiful dog. I know Mattie adored him. What better way to get back at her then through Ben? He was outside in the yard barking. He was too involved with the cat that was taunting him to notice me. I walked up to him from behind and stabbed him into his ribs over and over. He gave a startled whelp then crumbled to the ground. I don’t think he knew what hit him. Months later, Mattie brought home a Doberman Pinscher that had been dumped off at the SPCA. Mattie claimed the dog was too old to be adopted so she decided to take him. She named him, George. She loved him, and he loved her too. George’s eyes would actually sparkle when Mattie came home. And when she took out the leash he would go absolutely nuts. He loved going on day hikes with Mattie and practically became Mattie’s hiking group’s mascot.
Mattie had signed up for a hiking trip. It was an overnighter. She asked me if it was OK if she went. I told her to go and enjoy herself but inside I was fuming.
No dogs were allowed so George stayed home. As soon as he saw Mattie getting her hiking boots and hiking stick, he jumped for joy. But when he realized he wasn’t going, he whined and carried on. Mattie felt bad so she brushed him, and gave him a treat. But George was desolate when Mattie gathered her stuff and walked out to the car. He ran back and forth from window to window whining as he watched to Mattie pull out of the driveway. Despite being upset at leaving George, Mattie was excited. I was excited too. This was my opportunity.
There are those that say dogs don’t shed tears. But they do. Believe me, they do. George did.
Mattie cried. Oh, how she cried for her handsome dog. She looked for George. Her friends helped but George had disappeared. I comforted her, of course. I played the role of the supportive husband.
Not too long after George’s disappearance or so Mattie honestly believed, she showed up with Dave, more pit bull than anything. Dave was rescued from a kill shelter, and Dave seemed to understand it was Mattie who had saved him. Everywhere, Mattie, he followed gazing at her with that same adoring eyes of Ben and George
I’m no fan of dogs. I tolerated them until I killed them. Haha. You don’t appreciate my humor, do you? You hate me. I can tell. But that’s OK. You can hate me all you want. Let me continue- the one animal I truly hate is a cat. Mattie knew it. So on the day she showed up with a stray kitten, insisting it was not a big deal because the kitten was hers to take care of, I went berserk. We fought. I swung at her. I would have hit her in the face, but Dave rushed at me and caught my fist in his mouth. There was no adoration in his brown eyes only a warning. He growled softly as he held my fist firmly in his mouth. Mattie stroked his big head and murmured, “its Ok, boy. Let him go.” Dave opened his mouth slightly and I yanked my fist out with a terrified squeal, but Dave was unmoved. His eyes never left mine.
So the kitten stayed. I will admit she was a beauty. Her body was typical of a tabby cat. Her forearms all the way down to her paws were charcoal black and downright dainty. And, those eyes! It was her eyes that caught everyone’s attention-so big and blue- all the more big and blue against her black chocolate face. It was no surprise to anyone that Mattie named her – Blue.
Mattie made a fuss over that kitten who went from an adorable little kitten to an adorable little cat in a very short time. Her looks were striking and she seemed to know it. Whenever anyone made a remark about her she tilted her head upwards, softly narrowed her eyes and mewed in agreement. Mattie bought her toys and played with her for hours. Even Dave played with her. Sometimes, in the early morning I would hear Mattie singing songs to that cat with Dave howling softly like a backup singer. Who ever heard of people singing songs to a cat? Well, Mattie did and it annoyed the hell out of me. Blue enjoyed the songs and the fuss. She loved Mattie. That was obvious. But she didn’t like me. Quite a few times, she would follow me from one room to the next like a spy gathering information. She kept her distance staring at me so intently it made the hairs on my arms stick me. I knew she knew about me. She knew all my secrets. She knew all about my obsessions, my misdeeds and my crimes. That cat with her enormous blue eyes that I hated was always watching me. Once, I reached my hand out and called to her. But she sprang backward and scampered away in fright. She knew I wanted to hurt her. Ha-ha. Imagine that? That cat knew.
I knew it was only a matter of time before Blue had to disappear just like Ben and George had. It was time for that cat to go where the dogs had gone – an abandoned shed in the woods not too far from our property. It was the perfect spot. No one ever checked there because no one ever suspected.
Saturday came, and Mattie was preparing to go out despite the bitter cold. I was in the living room watching TV. I had downed my third can of beer, and it was still early morning. I saw Mattie getting her coat out from the closet. “Rushing out to meet your boyfriend? Huh?” I tried to sound jovial. Mattie glanced at my empty beer can then at my belly hanging over my belt. I saw the look of disgust in her eyes and laughed. I grabbed my belly and shook it at her. “You like it, huh? You like the big belly? “ Mattie wasn’t amused. “You have no shame. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I wouldn’t go near another man if you paid me.’ Dave walked slowly to her side and nudged her hand. She patted him, “its alright, boy.” Dave looked at me. He was not amused either. Mattie was silent as she took out the leash and put it on him. Dave didn’t wag his tail. He stared at me as he walked with Mattie toward the door. “When are you coming back, my dear?” I called after her sarcastically. “What do you care?” she answered. I could barely hear her.
I went to the frig and took out another beer. I looked out the window and watched until Mattie and Dave walked out of view. I popped open the beer and guzzled it down.
In the dining room, I heard the jiggle of little bells. I went to investigate. Blue was so engrossed with playing she didn’t see me. She eyed the jingle ball tenderly then pounced on it then lightly tapped at it with her soft paws only to whack it hard and send it spinning across the floor.
Blue was adorable to watch as she played and played. She was so soft and fragile and beautiful. Suddenly, I felt that urge to destroy that beauty. I could not control that urge and didn’t want to. I reached down and grabbed her. She looked up at me with wide eyes, her body rigid with horror. She struggled against me. She bit my thumb and clawed against my arms. But there was no escape. “You stupid cat,” I screamed, “ I got you, and now you’re going to die.” I laughed. I grasped her throat and pushed down hard. Her blue eyes bulged in absolute terror. “See, you were right about me the whole time. I’m evil, and you knew it. Shame you can’t talk. You could have told someone. But you can’t. You’re just a cat.” Blue withered in my grasp too exhausted to fight. I took her to the kitchen and put her on the table. I loosened my grip slightly as I pulled a butcher knife from the kitchen drawer. She mewed softly, weakly, and pathetically as if begging for mercy. But there was no mercy in me when it comes to killing. “You love those big blue eyes, don’t you ? But I want them and I’m going to take them.” I held her head tightly and brought up the knife. Blue knew what was coming. Now she was in an absolute frenzy. I angled the tip of the knife perfectly and pressed hard. Her eye popped out just as easily as George’s had. Blue screamed and it gave me such a delight. I brought the knife up again and angled it toward her other eye. Blue cried out agonized, and bite my thumb hard. I yelled in pain. That would be the first and last time that cat would bite me. I lifted her up and slammed her hard into the table. I heard a crack. Behind me, there was another scream. It was Mattie. I was confused. I thought she had gone hiking then I remembered there was no hike today because of the cold. She stared at me then at Blue. “What have you done to my cat? You bastard. You rotten bastard.” She screamed and then she was rushing at me. I was waiting for this confrontation. She hit me with every bit of her strength but she was no match. I grabbed her and slammed her against the wall. She was unfazed, and continued to claw at me. Her adrenaline had kicked in, and so had mine. I hit her in then Dave was on me. He tore open my leg and bit hard into my arm. I grabbed the butcher knife and stabbed that worthless mutt repeatedly. I have to give it to that dog. He fought hard. He loved Mattie so much that he was willing to die for her and that’s exactly what he did. Mattie was in shock, sobbing for Blue and now Dave. “You killed my killed my dog. You killed Dave.” I couldn’t help myself . Now was the chance to tell her what I wanted so badly to tell her before,, “Fuck Dave. I killed him, and just so you know I killed your other dogs. They never ran away.“ It took a moment for this to register in her mind. Her mouth fell open then closed as shock morphed into explosive rage. “You’re going to burn in hell!” She lunged at me. I knocked her to the floor, and hit her in the face until it was a bloody pulp. I felt her teeth crack with each pummel, and it felt good. There was no stopping me now. I never had the urge to kill a human but I did then. I cannot describe the thrill I gave me. And I hated her. I realize that now. I hated her for being popular and loved. I hated her perfect skin. I hated her perfect body. Well, she wasn’t so perfect now.
She continued to struggle. I stabbed her in the chest. How many times? I forget. Yet she still continued to fight. I grabbed her throat. and pressed down. She grabbed my wrists in an effort to free herself but it was hopeless. She sucked in one little breath then struggled to get another. “Mommy,” she moaned as her tears mixed with her blood. I was annoyed she would call for a woman who had died when she was just a little girl. Yet the moan had been so perfect, so melodic, I became aroused. I wanted to hear more. I relaxed my grip slightly but there was no more from Mattie. She was dead. In her last moments of life, I noticed, she had clutched Dave’s ear.
Blood was everywhere- on the floor, the cabinets, the walls. Pools of bright red blood, thick and gelatinous – had formed around Mattie and Dave. The floor was so slippery I had to use the table to keep falling flat on my face. I laughed as I looked over the fallen dead- the dog, the cat and my bride of twenty-three years. I looked down at her. She was barely recognizable as the woman I had shared my life with. I know at one point she had loved me, and I must have loved her but now I felt nothing. I put Blue’s limp body on Mattie’s serrated chest, and pulled them close to Dave. There was no movement. I unfolded a blanket and rolled the three of them unto it. I used the rest of the rope to tie the blanket at the top and bottom then I put them on a tarp making it easier for me to drag. Mattie had loved her pets so much, I thought. Well, now she would spend eternity with them.
The moon was full and I was able to see where I going without the aid of a flashlight. It was really bitter out but I was sweating profusely by the time I got to the shed. I opened it and dragged the dead in. The shed was built with cinder block years ago and was still in great condition. The far corner was where I buried Ben and George. I thought the least I could do was bury all of them together. Mattie would have liked that. The grave was a shallow grave and I was grateful for that because the ground had frozen and it was hard to shovel. I dug until I saw the remains of the dogs and dragged the bodies next to them. The blanket had torn, and Mattie and her pets were exposed but I didn’t care. I covered them as best as I could. I figured when the weather warmed I would come back and bury them properly. There was no hurry. No one knew about this place.
I went back to the house. I spent hours cleaning up the blood. When I finished, I was so exhausted. I fell immediately asleep as soon as I got into bed.
Voices woke me up. They were coming from the kitchen. I got up. I walked down the steps and saw my daughters, Melissa, and Claire, home for the weekend from college, in the kitchen drinking coffee. They saw me and got to their feet. “Where’s mom, “Claire, inquired. I played dumb, “I don’t know. Maybe she went out. “ Both my daughters looked out the window. “But her car is here, and she knew we were coming this morning. “
“We spoke to her early yesterday. She asked us to hike with her,” Melissa added. I shrugged my shoulders, “she’ll show up,” and went back upstairs. I wasn’t concerned. Nobody had a clue.
Hours passed. The girls were frantic. They called their brothers, Bruce and Brian. They were at the house within the hour. The police were notified. Word went around the community. The phone rang non stop. Mattie’s hiking and biking buddies called for updates. Her co-workers called then stopped by. “Our mother would never go anywhere with telling one of us. This isn’t like her. I know she’s in trouble,” my son Brian could not hide the fright in his voice.
Harry, the guy Mattie usually hiked with came by. I didn’t like him. If people didn’t know Mattie and I were married they would think this creep was her husband. He grilled me worse than the police. “So you saw her leave?” He asked a little too aggressively. “No, I didn’t.” He stepped close to me and whispered, “I don’t believe you, and neither does anyone else.” He left me standing on the porch and went into my yard. I should have thrown him off the property but I was too stunned to do much of anything except watch him. Did he suspect anything? Even if he did what proof did he have? I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Harry walked slowly over the grass as if he were looking for clues. But even if he were, he wouldn’t find any. You see, I am very meticulous in covering my tracks. My children followed behind him like he was some kind of guru. He suddenly stopped and looked back at me, “So where’s Dave?”
“I’m sure Dave is with my mom,” Bruce replied. I smirked when I heard that, “He’s with your mother all right.”
Harry moved on deep in thought. “So Dave is with your mother. So where is her cat, Blue?’
Melissa and Claire began to stutter. “Where is Blue? She’s not here either. Oh my God, something is wrong, terribly wrong!” Clair wept. “Mommy’s dead. I know it. I feel it in my heart.”
Neighbors, friends and family did their best to comfort my children but They were distraught, too. They knew just as Claire knew- Mattie was dead. Harry tried to give them hope although I could tell he was struggling to stay composed. “We don’t know that, Claire. Please, we have to be optimistic. Can we pray? I think we should do that for your mother.” Everyone gathered together and Harry lead them in prayer. I hated Mattie even more then. Even in death, she got all the attention. The prayers seemed to have a soothing effect on the crowd but suddenly Claire broke down weeping uncontrollably then collapsed. I watched in disgust as Bruce carried her into the house.
Not only did my kids and family spend the night but that creep, Harry did, too. They stayed up late talking. No one bothered me. They assumed I was distraught with worry and wanted to be alone. Finally exhaustion overtook them and they fell asleep. It was after 3 am, when the howling began. Melissa and Claire were on their feet seconds after the howling started. “Did you hear that?” I heard Melissa ask. “it sounds like a cat,” I heard Brian say. Then Claire said with a bit of hope in her voice, “ Maybe it is Blue.” The howling was pitiful. I could barely stand it. Claire spoke again. I could hear the panic in her voice. She was so young, only 18 and sensitive-the apple of her mother’s eye. “Maybe it is Blue. Suppose she’s hurt and she’s calling to us to save her or maybe she wants to take us to mommy?”
“You might be right,” I heard Harry interject.
That got my attention. I sat up in bed. The howling was louder, more desperate. There was a rushing of feet toward the door. I heard Bruce say, “its right by the door. Open it.” Someone opened the door. “oh my God,” I heard Melissa gasp, “it is Blue.” I was on my feet. I ran to the steps and saw what they saw. How was it possible? Blue was dead. I knew that for a fact.
Melissa and Claire advanced to Blue slowly and carefully so not to startle her, talking sweetly. “Someone hurt Blue. Her eye is missing,” Claire held her tears in. They were close enough to grab her but suddenly Blue bolted. My kids ran after her but she disappeared.
The next day the police were back. It was apparent now that a crime had been committed. Mattie had not run away. Her credit cards and debit cards were untouched. Her car remained in the driveway. No one had seen or heard from her. They began to ask more in depth questions but I answered them without hesitation. My voice was firm, and confident.
I’m proud to tell you that I played the part of the grieving husband perfectly. I think I missed my calling as an actor. I had posters made of Mattie and put them up in the supermarkets and malls. I told my story to anyone who wanted to hear it, and most did. I poured on the tears when I was interviewed by the news. What a show I put on. And to tell you the truth- I loved the attention. It made me feel special. No one suspected a thing.
The next night, the howling returned. Once more, Blue made her appearance only to bolt away and disappear. My kids were beside themselves. They refused to eat claiming they had no appetite. I was the only one who had an appetite. I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner. My kids watched in sad amazement but said nothing. “I guess that’s his way of coping, “ I heard Melissa console them and they believed her. They waited. What else was there for them to do? If only they knew. But I would never divulge my dirty secret.
The police continued to grill me relentlessly but I never faltered. They would never break me. They would never find Mattie. My crime was too well hidden. Nearly a week had passed since Mattie’s disappearance. The police called again to inform me the FBI was involved now and they would be making a visit tomorrow evening. It was obvious to me they were trying to scare me. But I wasn’t scared. I sniffed at the idea of the FBI coming to interview me all because of Mattie. Ha. She was just an ordinary person. Why did they care?

I told my kids and they said they already knew. They wanted to be there. That was fine with me.
The sun had already set when two FBI agents arrived along with two police officers. I was annoyed that the cops came. Did they suspect something? My kids sat with in the living room. They asked me the same questions the police asked. They were hoping to catch me at something that would lead them to arrest me but it didn’t happen. After an hour of basically interrogating me, they realized they were getting nowhere. They wrote what they had to write and were packing up to leave when the howling started. The agents and the police stopped what they were doing and listened. My kids listened, too entranced. The anguished howls were like a call to prayer. They sounded almost human. “What is that?” a woman FBI agent asked.
“My mom’s cat. She howls at our door but runs when we try to get her,” Brian offered. The howls grew closer. “Its outside the door,” a cop said. “Open it,” the lady agent requested. The cop opened the door and there sat Blue. The agent carefully approached Blue and knelt in front of her. She choked. “She reeks. She smells like decomposed flesh. Her right eye is missing. She’s in really bad shape. She has to be in pain.“ She looked at Blue tenderly. “Oh my God, you poor thing. Who did this to you?” she reached out to touch Blue but Blue backed away then stopped and looked at the agent imploringly with her remaining eye. She mewed then walked toward the agent only to walk away again. “I think she wants me to follow her,” the agent said to the cop.
Now, I had had enough. I rushed toward that cat and tried to kick her. But the agent and the police office with hands on their guns shoved me out of the way. “Stop where you are,” the cop commanded. I stopped. He motioned to the others. “We’re going to follow the cat. This is too creepy to pass up. And you’re coming with us,” the cop leveled his blue eyes at me almost daring me to resist. The other cop and agent took me by my elbows and led me out of the house. I didn’t give them a hard time. I thought then what could they possibly find?
My kids were more intrigued than frightened. They followed close behind.
The odor that emanated from Blue’s body was nauseating. I gagged and so did everyone else. She staggered as she walked. It was obvious she was in great pain and that made me glad. It was comical to watch as she weaved lopsided like a drunken sailor through the yard. It was when she went into the woods that I began to worry.
Blue led us down one path and then another. She mewed frequently as if to signal to us. Finally, she reached the shed. She stopped and looked slowly at the agents, the cops, and my kids then accusingly at me. I lost my temper then. I screamed. “you damn cat. I killed you. I know I did. “ I jerked away from the cops and lunged at Blue. I was fast but the cops were faster. They threw me to the ground. They pulled my arms back and put plastic ties around my wrists.
“The door is locked,” a cop announced. “Break the door down,” the other commanded. With a kick to the center of the door, it broke open. Blue stepped in. it was dark. Flashlights were turned on. Blue howled like a grief stricken child. She staggered over to the burial site. The bodies were exposed. Blue must have dug them up. Ben, and George were decomposed but still recognizable as dogs. Dave was still intact, the cold weather certainly helped. Beside him, lay Mattie. Blue went to her. She touched Mattie with her paw. She purred with a great love as she licked Mattie’s grey disfigured cheek. The cops and the agents stood transfixed. Tears slid down their cheeks. My kids came in fearfully, tentatively knowing what they would see but knowing that had to see. What they saw they should not have seen, and they would never had seen if it weren’t for that cat. They looked over the bodies. They saw their mother. They wept hysterically and clung to each other for support. They did not look at me as I was led away. That was the last time I ever saw them.
So, that’s it, my dear girl. The End. You know the rest.”
“So, what happened to that cat, Blue? You said you were going to tell me?” the young reporter inquired. She re-positioned herself in her chair and waited.
“Hah, you’re going to think I’m crazy. Wait, I’m already crazy. But, not in regards to Blue. I wasn’t the only one who saw. But why would I waste your time? You not going to believe me.”
The young woman cleared her throat and replied, “Try me.”
“Ok, I will. I was already in the custody, sitting in the back of the cop car so I’m telling this story second hand from the cops. The lady FBI agent asked where Blue was. She was told Blue was still next to Mattie. I got the impression the agent wanted to adopt Blue and take care of her. She went back into the shed to collect Blue. She found Blue laying on Mattie’s chest. She called to Blue but Blue didn’t respond. At first, the agent thought Blue was sleeping. She lifted Blue up and was startled to find Blue frozen, desiccated, stiff as a board. You see, Rigor mortis had set into her tiny body. She had been dead for over a week.

How to tame your whigger.

Socialists AKA the left are crypto communists and they have an agenda – the collapse of Western civilization. Since America unlike Europe has the right to bear arms and would have no problem using that right if and when threatened, the left has a problem. If they were to open fire on Americans, Americans would respond in kind. So the left had to come up with something else before they could initiate genocide on America like they did in Russia and it worked remarkably well – the indoctrination of children. They hit the colleges then moved on to high schools and now they have infiltrated the primary schools. The propaganda went extremely well. After indoctrination became a staple in American education, White guilt was introduced- again with great success. Its so easy to browbeat a race that sees itself as the evil oppressor, and make it submit. Many whites fell for it. They’re ashamed. They work hard to appease the ones whose ancestors were victimized by their ancestors not realizing that victimization happened throughout history. When non-whites riot, rape and murder, the white self hater searches for excuses. They readily embraced the leftist agenda and have learned the art of kowtowing to non whites while undermining the nation their forefathers built.Through appeasement they appease their God of political correctness and that makes them feel so good. Whiggers have to feel good. For them, its all about feeling good even if it means damning their own people. There’s quite a few names I can use to describe these traitors but I don’t want to get foul. So a more benign term that had grabbed my attention is ‘whigger’- its amusing, its insightful, its perfectly descriptive,and thoroughly insulting.
I started my nursing career at a large medical center in NJ. The nurses I worked with were nice albeit liberal but I had no problem with that because most women are. But there was one nurse who was more than liberal. She was a leftist- a sweet talker until you disagreed. If you dared to disagree, you were in for it. I found out the hard way when I told her I was against racial blending. She stopped talking to me after that and told whoever would listen that I was a racist and Nazi. I was flabbergasted. It got to the point that working with her was intolerable and I left. I saw her as a mean individual too naive at that time to comprehend that I was dealing with something much bigger.
Throughout my career, I encountered one nasty nurse after another – every single one was a leftist. I never had another confrontation but I witnessed them.
Deceitful leftist nurses who while pretending to promote sisterhood undermined other nurses for the sheer joy of causing angst and pain. Still I didn’t get it. It wasn’t until I became a home health nurse that things began to make sense. I learned through observation and interaction that I was dealing with a culture- a culture comprised of whites who hated who they were and what they were, who hated their history, their faith, and their civilization but not the goodies that went with it. They were and remain a culture of kiss asses who scorn loyalty, dignity and honor, and want the white race to disappear. That’s whiggers, for you and we don’t have to tolerate their nonsense.

They’re everywhere. They surround you. They surround me. You know they’re no good but you don’t know what to do because you don’t know how to defend yourself when you’re called a racist or a Nazi. For most Americans, being labeled with such derogatory terms is worse than being dispossessed or beaten. So its better or so you think to shut up and go about your business. Wrong. The problem is whiggers will call you a racist or Nazi no matter what. You’re white. You’re conservative. You’re Christian. On the day, You were born you were already designated an enemy combatant.
Everyday, pestiferous masses from Africa, Asia, India and Islamic countries flood into the USA. These invaders are a threat to the common good but the whigger doesn’t care abut the common good. He or she embraces them with open arms. These invaders are dangerous because of whigger support. Whiggers don’t know about the culture of the 3rd world and they don’t want to. They’ll bend over backwards accommodating them out of racial self hatred. Plus, they think its cool and nothing is more important to a whigger than being ‘cool’.

While I was at McGee rehab I had a black woman who was my age as a roommate. She rang her bell frequently. With each call, the nurse aides rushed in and cooed over her like she was a newborn. I had to laugh. They were absolutely ridiculous in fawning over this woman who was a frequent flyer at the facility. It was so obvious why. I lost count of the times I saw whiggers kowtowing to blacks. It’s downright comical.
One morning, a nurse’s aide came in to help my room mate wash and dress. My roommate made a derogatory racial comment about me knowing I was still there. Instead of ignoring the woman, the nurse’s aide chimed in with her own derogatory remarks about ‘white privilege’. That’s in violation of HIPPA laws and I’m sure the nurse aide knew it. But what do you expect from a whigger who’s trying to make an impression? I listened then pulled the curtain back. I looked them both in their eyes, and said, “the both of you need to shut up and I mean now.” They shut up.

After I was discharged from McGee rehab, I didn’t return to nursing, but I did go back to hiking. One Saturday, a new member joined us. She walked with me. She told me she was a nurse. We chatted amicably about nursing then she brought up politics. She hated trump and cried when Hillary lost. I thought what am I doing to attract these morons? I held my tongue not wishing to get into a polital debate. About two miles in the hike, she pulled from her pocket at least half a dozen photos of her grandchildren. Her grandchildren were black. She watched me closely. She was obviously looking for some kind of something. I looked the photos over. I said, “nice, ” and handed them back. She was annoyed. I said, “What’s wrong?” She snapped, “I was expecting a better reaction than that.” I wanted so badly to say what I really thought but didn’t want an annoyance to escalate into a battle. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “What do you want me to say?”
She never came back and that’s typical of a whigger.
Whiggers want to be praised, and petted, and when they aren’t praised, and petted they go elsewhere (or get revenge.) They are children, vain children.

Standing up to a whigger is not for the faint of heart. Wiggers love- absolutely love -attention. They puff up like bullfrogs during mating season when a crowd gathers. They croak louder and more belligerently as the crowd swells. Conservatives are usually intimidated and I don’t blame them. Whiggers are violent when they have backup. Not only that but they‘ll do whatever they can to shout you down.
So how do you stand up to a whigger? It’s is not for the faint of heart- I’ll tell you that. You have to be very strong and courageous, and I don’t mean just physically strong and courageous although that does matter. You have to be mentally strong and courageous, too. That comes with confidence in knowing.
In order to tame a whigger you have to know what makes a whigger tick. You have to understand the depth of the indoctrination that takes place in our country on a daily basis whether it’s in entertainment, music, media, commercials, and our education systems especially universities. Pay close attention. The left owns all social media including the traditional ones. Their propaganda is not benign.
You need to know who is the force behind this propaganda and why.
More importantly- You have to know what makes you tick. That ‘s where history comes into play. Knowing dates and places where battles took place don’t cut it. You have to know our history- who funded both sides of the civil war, how Andrew Jackson and Abraham Lincoln stood up to the Rothschild bankers, the truth about the Federal Reserve, why JKF was murdered, and so. You have to know and understand the history of communism. Who were the founders of communism, who were the real criminals behind the genocide of Russia and the Ukraine, who really started WW2, who inaugurated the genocide of the Sudetenland Germans, and who were the profiteers of white slave trade and the transatlantic African slave trade, and who really runs the US Deep state. The list goes on and on. By increasing our knowledge base, we learn about the enemy and also ourselves.
If we don’t recognize how important we are, its over for all of us -even the whiggers who are working so hard to ruin this country.
Now, don’t be alarmed when a whigger laughs at you or calls you a liar or mocks you when confronted with historical facts or truths. Whiggers don’t believe in truth. They prefer lies, myths, nonsense, bullshit, and fairy tales. They’ll scream. They’ll rant. They’ll call for their buddies. They’ll insult you with stuff like this-
#1- you’re nuts/crazy. (with whiggers, if you don’t agree with their agenda you’re branded as a nut or as crazy.)
#2- Did you take your medication today? (comical at best because most whiggers are on medications especially antidepressants.)
#3- You need to be hospitalized (note- the Zionists believe if you question their agenda you’re mentally ill and need to be hospitalized as per Sigmund Fred and his ilk.)
#4- You’re a Nazi! ( the left’s favorite go to defamation word. Of course, the commies did nothing. LOL.)
#5- You’re a white supremacist! (may I ask whats wrong with a white man/woman who want to save their country?)
#6- You’re a fascist! (Do Whiggers even know what a fascist is? I doubt it)
#7- you’re a liar. (Anyone who confronts a whigger with facts is automatically branded a liar.)

The point is you have to stand firm. Truth will always prevail. Let me stress once more – knowledge is your greatest weapon. Laughter is second greatest weapon. Whiggers don’t like being laughed at.
Taming whiggers is like taming wild horses. Eventually wild horses get tired and so will whiggers. They may never speak to you again but why would you care?