American patriot @Asmongold read our entire Rape Gang Inquiry report to his millions of subscribers over seven hours.
He has already done more than the entire British media establishment.
An incredible effort.
https://t.co/RKkqx9yY4V
One of the lessons of Tolkien’s work is that evil does not simply stay “over there.” If left unchecked, it will show up at your doorstep no matter how sheltered you might be.
Phase 2 of operation complete: linkup.
@WVmotoguy and I just met in a park to get Molly in my truck for the trip to the beach. Now we each have 4+ hours to get home.
Both of us had tears in our eyes. He's a good man, and I'm grateful to have him as a friend.
Now the next phase: transpo to the Outer Banks.
250 thousand white girls raped and trafficked by Muslim immigrant pedophiles in the UK. Industrial scale sexual abuse and torture inflicted on the native inhabitants by barbaric foreign gangs who were welcomed into the country by the government. One of the worst scandals in the history of the western world. It really is that bad. Anyone who ignores this story is forever discredited going forward. Watch especially for the people on “our side” who look the other way.
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
The year is 2756.
Humans are not just interplanetary, but interstellar.
Space Marines on some far-off rock are trying to capture an objective.
Suddenly lasers slice through their position. They're pinned down. They call for CAS.
An A-10 screams over the horizon with the latest plasma gattling gun equipped, and obliterates the threat.
The Hog continues to reign.