Who's Watching Who? by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Who’s Watching Who?

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Georgia

Last week. Wednesday night. 8PM. A White woman, Ashley Wasielewski is walking her dog in Savannah, GA, when a B&B bum man sneaks up and douses her in corrosive liquid chemicals, scalding her skin and melting her clothes. She was finally found screaming in pain, the burns over 50% of her face and body; the acid strong enough to melt the keys in her pocket. She faces months of painful recovery at best. Her life will never be fully restored.

You could spend every moment of your life tracking non-White on White violence 24/7/365 and it would still be impossible to keep up with it. It would take the power of an AI, but so far they have been programmed by libtards not to do so.

There are multiple such murders in the US literally every single day, 99.9% of which are never heard of dure to the national news policy of non-coverage, never mind the exponentially greater number of violent attacks like this one. .......... Hehehe. On second thought, maybe this is not considered “news,” because it has become so common.

The story of Ashley Wasielewski's attack went days without a single shred of national news coverage. And you may think; "Well,

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a random attack in Georgia isn't really national news when you consider everything there is to cover in this country each day."

And if you do think that, ask yourself this: “If a B&B woman had large portions of her face burned off in a chemical attack, if the media had photos of her bandaged like a mummy in her hospital bed, and if the photo of the perpetrator fleeing the scene was clearly a White male ... do you think it would NOT be an inescapable national news outrage?” Hell, if a B&B woman has some problem with her bill at Chuck E Cheese, it’s national news.

It's not that the media is the enemy of the people.

It's that the media is the enemy of White people.

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Ranney was incensed, disgusted, and resented having to have this ugly thought planted in his head by a B&B bum of the worst sort. He couldn’t help but develop a fantasy to take its place. In this fantasy he travelled to Savannah and took a hotel near

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Forsyth Park. He strolled the park and found the B&B. He pulled out his gun and instructed him to walk back to the hotel, where he proceed to tie the B&B bum to a chair and gag him. He retrieved his pliers and began breaking the B&B bum’s fingers one by one, laughing as the bum jerked in pain at each breaking. He gave the bum some time to collect his thoughts, and then said; “An eye for an eye,” and proceeded to use his thumb to gouge out the B&B’s left eye. Then the right. Then for the

piece de resistance. Ranney poured hyrofluoric acid all over the B&B bum’s head. He couldn’t help but smile as the skin melted and the bum violently writhed. “I’m enjoying this too much,” he thought. “This is supposed to be work.” ......... “The hotel staff will eventually find the bum, probably tomorrow morning. He’ll still be alive in severe pain, and will be on the road to a life, not a life.”

He watched the bum struggle for an hour, the bum’s face now taking up residence in a pile on his chest, until the thrill of his realized fantasy started to wear off.

Finally, he said; “Gotta go. Toodles, bum,” and left.

The Impossible Dream (The Quest)

Frank Sinatra

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To dream the impossible dream

To fight the unbeatable foe

To bear with unbearable sorrow

To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong

To be better far than you are

To try when your arms are too weary

To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest, to follow that star

No matter how hopeless, no matter how far

To be willing to give when there's no more to give

To be willing to die so that honor and justice may live

And I know if I'll only be true to this glorious quest

That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my

rest

And the world will be better for this

That one man, scorned and covered with scars,

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Still strove with his last ounce of courage

To reach the unreachable star

Written by Joe Darion and Mitchell Leigh

Ranney thought that when in costume he looked something like Frank Sinatra. Don’t we all? Do other opinions matter in the least? Let the reader be the judge. No credentials necessary. Everyone is invited to these days.

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