If I ain't bitching, I'll likely be crying.
Top of the morning gents,
Ironies abound here north of 70 lat.
Life is hard on my beloved community. Self-inflicted violence and disease is impossible to cure, ya can't prevent despicable people from fucking themselves.
Lots of police and EMS up and down my blessed street. This is significant due to the uncontrollable breeding of more poor, diseased and ignorant minorities. Ok, Eskimos are the majority 'round these parts, so I'll rephrase them as poor, diseased and ignorant majorities. Make sense?
On my short section of North Star Street we have 45 little kids and infants likely seeing more sex than any of us. Lucky bastards get free sex, drugs, and rock and roll prenatally and throughout infancy. How cool is that?
The Mrs. and I arose early Saturday morning to see lots of drunken natives stagger and sway their way home. School is out leaving my neighborhood kids with no place to huff gas, snort meth, and cultivate rare diseases.
So, we have roaming crowds of baked Alaskans stealing, breaking, and raping everything in their wake. Go native dudes, without a condom or pubic hair.
I live in the best part of the Barrow dumpsite proper with wreckage and ghetto mod decorations everywhere. Everywhere except house 7488, rumor has it that a tall crazy white guy lives there.
One kid confided what he heard about me. "He's really mean and beat my dad up, but wouldn't fuck my mom or little sister." "He's weird."
School is out and there ain't enough hemp rope, shitty booze or cyanide to insure sufficient body count. I'm sure our village inmate youth will find other means of croaking their own dumb asses. Nowhere to go, nothing to do: might as well commit suicide: nigger is as a nigger does.
At around 9-10am all the drunk kids head home to either sleep off their gasoline vapor highs, or kill themselves.
Most are justifiably locked out, so we enjoyed watching the rock throwing and window breaking by ice nigger chitlens that will never pay the taxes that provide them with food stamps, public housing, shitty drugs and intoxicating gasoline fumes.
Life is good, suicide is the bet we placed and that's what dirty Eskimo mukes choose when they sprout pubes sufficient enough to camouflage their infected and swollen parental penis holsters.
Suicide attempt #1. We watched across the street as our smaller browner malformed neighbors hauled out another pathetic whining young man to the Home for the Retarded; he chowed a bottle of Ex-Lax and Lysol. Now their house has hot and cold running dysentery.
Despite 2 attempted suicides by uncontrollable diarrhea and simultaneous anal rape in Barrow this weekend; none were successful and nobody will ever clean up the mess. The aforementioned icky detritus will eventually end up in and on our Eskimo babies’ diapers. Make sense?
But still not a bad day for the Eskimo Grim Reaper, like the terminal 6Killer from my wicked past, he always makes his quota. When you do a job with that gray eyed psychopath you don’t chicken out, else he’ll raise the body count by 1; gratis.
Mr. Reaper, or Grim as we call him round here, happily and thankfully snatched 2 young souls killed by drunk drivers in Fairbanks and 1 Bethel mother killed by her drunken husband of Nigerian descent (good description of a fucked Bethel puke) who is toughest when he's soaked in booze, and with a gun in his hand.
Mr. Grim Reaper also paid a visit over Nome gleefully snatching souls precisely at the moment when youthful natives experimented with physics, namely deceleration trauma. These two young souls also held their own adhoc organ donor drive with discounted and abbreviated organs and a 4-wheeler parts yard sale all over the road really close to their point of turd bursting impact.
I found a good story from the Tundra Dumb, in the Funny Pages section.
---
Juveniles accused of beating puppies to death
by Maria Downey - Monday, May 30, 2005
Anchorage, Alaska - Three Kivalina juveniles have been charged with animal cruelty and criminal mischief.
The suspects are accused of beating to death two puppies in the Northwest Alaska village located 80 miles from Kotzebue.
Alaska State Troopers say someone tipped them off Friday night about the dead puppies found outside an abandoned house.
The names and ages of the suspects have not been released. The charges have been forwarded to juvenile authorities.
---
Now let's examine the thousands of dogs and puppies I've shot and blown to pieces with Blanchard and Black Bird, and the herds of game animals I’ve shot, gutted, butchered, frozen and chowed down.
I knew it was legal to kill and eat subsistence tundra foods, but I didn't know it was against the law to kill dogs. Oh I get it, if we eat boiled and fried dog meat and knickipaq frozen puppy doo doo caulq we ain't breaking the law.
Ironies abound indeed. A typical and trivial story of us villagers smashing canine skulls for fun, while all this native childhood alcoholism and infected aboriginal pussy splitting goes unreported.
God I love Alaska: a wonderful final resting place for broken people with broken hearts.
If I grow weary of bitching about my neighborhood’s epidemic child abuse and neglect, I'll send you gay stories about crushed puppies left uneaten in Kivalina.
What the fuck? Beats the hell outa crying on the shoulders of my pals in uniform.
You lot.
Karl.
Ironies abound here north of 70 lat.
Life is hard on my beloved community. Self-inflicted violence and disease is impossible to cure, ya can't prevent despicable people from fucking themselves.
Lots of police and EMS up and down my blessed street. This is significant due to the uncontrollable breeding of more poor, diseased and ignorant minorities. Ok, Eskimos are the majority 'round these parts, so I'll rephrase them as poor, diseased and ignorant majorities. Make sense?
On my short section of North Star Street we have 45 little kids and infants likely seeing more sex than any of us. Lucky bastards get free sex, drugs, and rock and roll prenatally and throughout infancy. How cool is that?
The Mrs. and I arose early Saturday morning to see lots of drunken natives stagger and sway their way home. School is out leaving my neighborhood kids with no place to huff gas, snort meth, and cultivate rare diseases.
So, we have roaming crowds of baked Alaskans stealing, breaking, and raping everything in their wake. Go native dudes, without a condom or pubic hair.
I live in the best part of the Barrow dumpsite proper with wreckage and ghetto mod decorations everywhere. Everywhere except house 7488, rumor has it that a tall crazy white guy lives there.
One kid confided what he heard about me. "He's really mean and beat my dad up, but wouldn't fuck my mom or little sister." "He's weird."
School is out and there ain't enough hemp rope, shitty booze or cyanide to insure sufficient body count. I'm sure our village inmate youth will find other means of croaking their own dumb asses. Nowhere to go, nothing to do: might as well commit suicide: nigger is as a nigger does.
At around 9-10am all the drunk kids head home to either sleep off their gasoline vapor highs, or kill themselves.
Most are justifiably locked out, so we enjoyed watching the rock throwing and window breaking by ice nigger chitlens that will never pay the taxes that provide them with food stamps, public housing, shitty drugs and intoxicating gasoline fumes.
Life is good, suicide is the bet we placed and that's what dirty Eskimo mukes choose when they sprout pubes sufficient enough to camouflage their infected and swollen parental penis holsters.
Suicide attempt #1. We watched across the street as our smaller browner malformed neighbors hauled out another pathetic whining young man to the Home for the Retarded; he chowed a bottle of Ex-Lax and Lysol. Now their house has hot and cold running dysentery.
Despite 2 attempted suicides by uncontrollable diarrhea and simultaneous anal rape in Barrow this weekend; none were successful and nobody will ever clean up the mess. The aforementioned icky detritus will eventually end up in and on our Eskimo babies’ diapers. Make sense?
But still not a bad day for the Eskimo Grim Reaper, like the terminal 6Killer from my wicked past, he always makes his quota. When you do a job with that gray eyed psychopath you don’t chicken out, else he’ll raise the body count by 1; gratis.
Mr. Reaper, or Grim as we call him round here, happily and thankfully snatched 2 young souls killed by drunk drivers in Fairbanks and 1 Bethel mother killed by her drunken husband of Nigerian descent (good description of a fucked Bethel puke) who is toughest when he's soaked in booze, and with a gun in his hand.
Mr. Grim Reaper also paid a visit over Nome gleefully snatching souls precisely at the moment when youthful natives experimented with physics, namely deceleration trauma. These two young souls also held their own adhoc organ donor drive with discounted and abbreviated organs and a 4-wheeler parts yard sale all over the road really close to their point of turd bursting impact.
I found a good story from the Tundra Dumb, in the Funny Pages section.
---
Juveniles accused of beating puppies to death
by Maria Downey - Monday, May 30, 2005
Anchorage, Alaska - Three Kivalina juveniles have been charged with animal cruelty and criminal mischief.
The suspects are accused of beating to death two puppies in the Northwest Alaska village located 80 miles from Kotzebue.
Alaska State Troopers say someone tipped them off Friday night about the dead puppies found outside an abandoned house.
The names and ages of the suspects have not been released. The charges have been forwarded to juvenile authorities.
---
Now let's examine the thousands of dogs and puppies I've shot and blown to pieces with Blanchard and Black Bird, and the herds of game animals I’ve shot, gutted, butchered, frozen and chowed down.
I knew it was legal to kill and eat subsistence tundra foods, but I didn't know it was against the law to kill dogs. Oh I get it, if we eat boiled and fried dog meat and knickipaq frozen puppy doo doo caulq we ain't breaking the law.
Ironies abound indeed. A typical and trivial story of us villagers smashing canine skulls for fun, while all this native childhood alcoholism and infected aboriginal pussy splitting goes unreported.
God I love Alaska: a wonderful final resting place for broken people with broken hearts.
If I grow weary of bitching about my neighborhood’s epidemic child abuse and neglect, I'll send you gay stories about crushed puppies left uneaten in Kivalina.
What the fuck? Beats the hell outa crying on the shoulders of my pals in uniform.
You lot.
Karl.
posted by Alaska: Local And State News. at 10:04 AM
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