#notallblacks

Last week, I was preparing my house for a visit by my beloved nephew. When he showed up, he was in tears.

“What’s wrong, dear nephew?” I asked him.

“Some big kid stole my favorite Pokémon card!” he sobbed.

“Was the kid a black?” I asked, the righteous anger already rising in me.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Good,” I said approvingly. “You understand that theft is borrowing plus power, so it would not have been stolen if a white kid had taken it, right?”

“Yes, I understand that, Uncle,” said my nephew. “Now can we do something about it?”

I said that we sure would and then we got into my Apache helicopter, which I’d bought to replace my Ferrari after it was stolen by blacks. We took off and I flew towards the nearest black neighborhood.

“The black kid who stole my Pokémon card wasn’t in that neighborhood,” said my nephew suddenly.

“Yes, but all blacks benefit from theft culture,” I explained. “That means they’re all responsible for it. Now, man the gun!”

It was then that we flew into the black neighborhood. I immediately began firing my CRV7 rockets and Hellfire missiles at every black person I could see. I tried to avoid damaging property too much because much of it was probably stolen white property. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old nephew proved adept at killing the blacks with the M230 chain gun. All the blacks ran screaming from us in terror like the cowards they were!

“What did we accomplish today?” I asked my nephew as we landed back at my house.

1. Are you black?

2. Do you deny theft culture?

Last Thursday, I was driving my nephew to his hip-hop dance class (it wasn’t appropriation for him to do hip-hop dance because of black privilege). Along the way, I got a flat tire while driving through a bad neighborhood.

“Goddamn fuck it!” I yelled. Since my eight-year-old nephew was present, I avoided using language as strong as I normally would have.

We got out of the convertible so that we could walk over to the nearest place which sold spare tires. My nephew noticed that I didn’t lock the car door.

“Hey, shouldn’t you lock that door?” he asked innocently. I knew it wasn’t his fault that he was raised in a theft culture, but I was so mad that I smacked him in the face with my fist and his little body fell hard on the cement.

“YOU FUCKING THEFT APOLOGIST!” I yelled at him. “PROTECTING YOUR PROPERTY PERPETUATES THEFT CULTURE! WE NEED TO TEACH BLACKS NOT TO STEAL!”

“Okay, okay!” he said, cowering in terror. “But shouldn’t you at least take the keys out of the ignition?”

“NO, YOU LITTLE FUCK, THAT WOULD STILL CONTRIBUTE TO THEFT CULTURE!” I explained to him.

When we got back from the place that sold spare tires, my $200,000 Ferrari convertible was gone, obviously stolen by blacks even though we were in a white trash neighborhood. I noticed that a bunch of white rednecks with a Confederate flag were riding around the street in a Ferrari which looked just like mine, but I knew that it was a coincidence because white people don’t have enough privilege to get away with theft like that.

We were forced the walk the rest of the way to my nephew’s dance class and were an hour late. I asked him whose fault it was that we were late, hoping that he wouldn’t say it was my fault for not protecting my own property 24/7. I was so proud when he answered, “black people”. I might have lost my $200,000 car, but it was all worth it because now my nephew understand the dynamics of theft culture.