(Continued from Part II)

White privilege: now, just what again is that? I may have to go to my heavy hitter, the 14-year-old Small Daughter, to have that one splayned to me. White privilege to me is like the Abominable Snowman; it’s a big white monster that so many insist exists, but nobody has ever actually seen it, other than Yukon Cornelius, Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, and that neurotic closet-dentist Herbie the elf. Herbie doesn’t like to make toys. Herbie doesn’t give a **(BKAE)shit(BKAE); Herbie wants to be a dentist. Be more like Herbie.


Again, most of my white associates say they have never experienced it (WP), but somebody out there somewhere has to be lying, because there is so much complaining about it. Could it be me who is lying?

I have a confession to make: I never actually learned these seven languages that I speak. They were actually passed to me under the table by some Free Masons with their index fingers over their lips—shhhhhhhhh!

For the Green Beret Qualification Course, I won that slot in a closed lottery, and then I even showed up months late, missing all the really hard stuff.

As for that Combat Diver Qualification Course, I had a coupon for that, so that badge arrived the same week as my Pastor’s license, through the mail from Sacramento CA, the state voted the most hoped in the Union to break off and sink into the Pacific; dost thou even swim?

Delta Force, they flagged all the red tape because I am such a (BKAE)Goddamned(BKAE) awesome frikin’ dude, who is really entertaining when he is drunk. I carry a laminated ‘White Card.’ Gets me ten percent off of my grocery bill, gets me pennies off of each gallon of gasoline, and free movies at Red Box–savings!