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Everybody’s Stupid, CCIV

Y’all, I wanted to be wrong SO FUCKING BAD, but I knew with my whole heart that Kamala Harris didn’t stand Taylor Swift’s chance in hell of defeating Donald Trump in a presidential election. If you believe in God and the devil and all that jazz, can you imagine what would happen to America’s princess in Satan’s palace? Without a doubt, Taylor would be swiftly adulterated in the Devil’s den. By the way, adulterating is making something impure. Also, I don’t wish any ill on the popstar, it’s just an analogy. And aside from the “Prince of Darkness,” I’m sure Donald Trump himself wouldn’t mind contaminating and corrupting the five foot, ten-inch bad-ass blonde billionaire bombshell. With that, shout-out to congresswoman Jasmine Crockett, who received over 80 percent of the vote on election night to retain her seat in the House. But going back to Trump, let me tell y’all why his victory is a win for humanity. Again, humans are irreversibly imperfect. And history shows that America has never had a president that is a more realistic representation of its and humanity’s imperfection than Donald Trump. President Trump is a convicted felon, an alleged sexual predator, an imbecile, a man of many sexuality and religious phobias, an assumed racist, a misogynist, and almost everything that the ideal suggests an elected representative should never be. And I believe that US citizens should be grateful for the stupidity of their fellow Americans, because once Trump is done destroying democracy, maybe we can get enough real-ass people to step up and lead this country into an era of evolution. Generally, politicians are soft as hell, right? Respectfully, former president and retired politician Barack Obama couldn’t cuss in public without being subjected to backlash, as a 63-year-old man. Is that freedom? Better yet, is suppression of expression for the sake of gentility a part of the ideal that you believe is necessary? I don’t know for sure and I don’t care to Google it, but I’d assume that the prohibition of profanity in public affairs was established specifically to spare sensitive-ass feelings. Sure, forbidding slights and slander that could lead to disruptions and disputes in professional settings makes sense, but cussing on its own isn’t inherently offensive, and a motherfucker doesn’t even have to cuss to slight or slander someone. What sense does it make to censor people in an effort to prevent something that occurs regardless? If Jasmine Crockett would have thrown a “bitch” on the end of that “bleach blonde, bad built, butch body” comment, that would have been the greatest thing that a congressperson has ever said, period! All jokes aside, redundancy in the rules and regulations is really ridiculous. What’s the most absurd guideline that you’ve ever been found in violation of? This isn’t necessarily absurd, but it’s pretty fucking funny—at least to me. I once worked in a warehouse building doors for walk-in commercial freezers, and there were air lines hanging from the ceiling that were used for air tools during assembly. Each air line had a heavy duty metal quick-release connector on it. After finishing a door once, I removed the air line from the tool and let it go. I heard the line “swoosh” through the air, and a second later my most helpful co-worker painfully screeched, “Ah!” It turns out that the heavy duty metal connector hit said co-worker in the head after I released the line. If you’re wondering, yes, it drew blood. Needless to say, I was fired the next day. But I didn’t care, because I didn’t like the job anyway, and I laughed for a week straight following the incident. No, I’m not a sadist. It was the “swoosh” followed by the “clink” of the impact in concert with the “Ah!” that made it so funny. And the moral of that story is, commercial freezer door builders should wear hard hats. Those are the type of issues that everyday people should be focused on, because there ain’t shit that anybody can do to stop America from being knocked upside the head with this reality check!

So, I’ve begun to recognize that I’m getting progressively more popular among celebrities and wannabe celebrities, naturally. If you’re new here, I bet you’re wondering what all the fuss is about, huh? Well, I’m highly intellect and a sensational writer, which makes niggas envious. There’s a lot going on behind the scenes that will eventually be exposed, so stay tuned. For the time being, allow me to stir up some shit using only facts. In a recent “Donkey of the Day” segment, Charlamagne stooped to a new low by seeking out a story that resembles a personal matter of mine—alluding to information that he’d only be knowledgeable of if he’d hired a private investigator—and the details of the story implied that I’d end up self-transitioning. And I wouldn’t be hesitant to propose that the bald-headed motherfucker was pushing for me take my own life when he very vindictively reported the story. Now, I know this is difficult to believe for many of you. But luckily for me, the right people know exactly what I’m talking about. And if I were to provide the “receipts” proving that Charlamagne has alluded to this particular personal matter on multiple occasions, as well as the documents that prove the details of the story in question match said personal matter, it would leave very little doubt in your minds. Needless to say, I was deeply saddened and distressed by Mr. McKelvey’s classic callous and controversial commentary. And I guess we’ll have to see how the FCC feels about all that’s been going on. Keeping it real isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. This is America, right? You’d think that everyone would be able to express themselves freely, without being accosted through allusive attacks made by famous “professionals.” But I digress. I was listening to The Notorious B.I.G.’s “What’s Beef?” earlier, and it made me think about a few of the violent Diddy accusations. At the end of the song, Diddy says “Big Nas? Hitmen, baby.” Of course, Diddy was part of a production team at Bad Boy records that called themselves “The Hitmen.” However, considering the organized crime that Diddy is being accused of participating in, I wonder if him mentioning rapper Nas—who had a somewhat secret beef with The Notorious B.I.G. in the 90s—in conjunction with the word “hitmen” is a subliminal threat. On a song titled “Last Real Nigga Alive,” Nas asserts that Biggie’s “Kick in the Door” track was a diss directed at him. And prior to listening to “Last Real Nigga Alive,” I had no clue that Nas and Big beefed. Diverging slightly, what’s beef to you? In my opinion, beef is when you’re winning every battle in a war so triumphantly that motherfuckers start tagging in their friends just for you to ignore those motherfuckers and force them to watch you devastate their allies. Beef is when your adversaries become consumed with spite to the point where they begin to relinquish their strengths and reveal their weaknesses. Beef is when your enemies start communicating via WhatsApp to conspire against you, as if that shit is untraceable. Y’all, there are a lot of miserable-ass multimillionaire mendicants out there—rich people with poor spirits. And it’s fucking pathetic! Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like therapy is helping y’all. Again, therapy would never work for me because I don’t lie to myself. I share my true feelings, about myself and everything else, on a blog that’s accessible to everyone. Now, someone who needs therapy could try to argue that venting without a licensed professional present is ineffective and unhealthy, but why the fuck would anyone listen to them? They need therapy! And even if I required assistance, I for damn sure wouldn’t waste my money on therapy by lying to my therapist. Healing starts with honesty, and honesty begins within. People lie to themselves when they hate who they are but aren’t courageous enough to oppose their own self-hatred. That’s gotta be tough. A little advice, beef up before you decide to beef with a beefcake. Peace.

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