the topic that dare not speak its name
You know a hot-button issue that nobody talks about but everyone has an opinion about? Black men marrying white women. Specifically wealthy and/or famous black men.
Do they have any idea how that must make black women feel?
You can tell how good a black athlete or entertainer is doing by who is he dating. He can be doing good or he can be doing “white woman good.” That’s not to say he won’t be dating just any white woman, just that she’ll either be fat or have issues. Once you get past a certain income level though you get to have the pick of the litter.
“White woman good.”
I’m not trying to say that our culture doesn’t value white features over black ones; I’m asking why these idiots keep using their obvious influence to reinforce this. If you look at men’s publications like Playboy and Penthouse you’ll see that any time they feature a girl that is black on the cover the sales for that issue tank. If you look at pornography online, which I’ve heard many men do these days, there are predominately white men with white women or black men with white women. Type in “white man on black woman” to Google and you will stump that motherfucker.
0 results found.
“Did you mean any color man on white woman?”
White women are the hot commodity and these famous dickholes end up buying into it.
Everyone has heard about how in the Middle Ages men liked chubby chicks over skinny ones because it showed that they had wealth. Pale chicks over tanned ones because it showed they didn’t spend time in the fields working. Tastes change and are usually based on what the ruling class finds attractive.
The black ruling class is fucking over their own women and nobody wants to say a word about it. It’s fucked up. If Robert De Niro can bang only black chicks would it kill you to do the same?
Of course I acknowledge that to some degree it might be racist to believe that a black man and white woman might meet and fall in love due to some crazy circumstances beyond their control but I don’t care. Call me a racist. Call me irresponsible. Call me unreliable. Throw in undependable, too. So, call me unpredictable. Tell me I’m impractical. Rainbows, I’m inclined to pursue.
Obviously I’m not in favor of outlawing interracial dating. In Planet of the Apes Mark Wahlberg kissed Helena Bonham Carter in full ape costume and the world didn’t come to an end … although the studio cut the sex scene between them for fear it would make the movie NC-17. All I know is that if Robert De Niro was the lead he would have fought harder to keep the scene and would have probably paid Helena a small fortune to bang him with the full monkey gear on.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Shit, where was I?
Oh yes. Think about who you marry, rich influential black men! How the fuck do you think it makes black women feel when they see all the good black men marrying vapid Barbie dolls? They’re not trophies you ignorant fucks, they’re statements.
Statements about yourself and if you can’t see that then you’re just a damn dirty moron.
Do you really want to send us back to the days where we want to marry pale, flabby chicks? Is that what you’re after? Just ask Bobby D. He wakes up at night in a cold sweat imagining it. Then he rolls over and kisses his ebony queen.
Try it sometime my brotha.