Down below, I noted (in the margins, and with a cynical air) that whenever anyone uses the term “real American,” he’s inevitably talking about those people who not only come from his hometown, but more specifically, those who agree with him.

For a white nationalist, a real American is not merely another white dude from the USA, it’s another white nationalist, who agrees with him. To the white multiculturalist, a real American is not the white nationalist, above.

some wild-eyed anarchist (visit the latest at his blog here) wrote…

In my instance, I am (in agreement with H.L. Lovecraft) referring to the descendants of the primarily Anglo-Saxon Protestants who colonized America in the 1600s and composed the ethnic stock during the Revolution. Depending on the person, someone might go further in history up until the major immigration waves in the mid-1800s.

The problem with this definition is that it includes guys like me, namely non-Americans. My people (and not just one, but several) were colonists. Like most ethnic Mormons, I’m descended from WASP types who originally lived in New York, New Jersey and Ohio. Both my mother and father are descended from colonists (surprisingly, for two Mormons, they aren’t descended from the same people.) I’m eligible to join the General Society of Mayflower Descendants, several times over. Isn’t it ironic…

Given that we’re thinking about nationality of late, I thought it would be fun to attempt to prove my own theorem wrong, by trying to construct a workable definition of real American.

In the first place, a real American isn’t a guy like me. There are few things I’m more certain of than that. If you were born someplace else, or even if you were born in the U.S. but raised someplace else, you simply don’t make the cut.

“But Boxer,” I hear you cry, “I spent my whole life an hour away from the border! I speak English and grew up with Sesame Street! ” So did most of the three million residents of Juarez and Tijuana. Sorry, bub. Sucks to be us.

SFC Ton wrote a comment, someplace, that went something like…

It’s a tough call but I will chose my race above all else. In part because your race is your extended family and in part because if Whites become a minority my child and grandchildren will be hunted down by non Whites and we owe our offspring certain things

Sergeant! Good News! There are millions upon millions of white folks, dying to get into the U.S.A.. Here’s a couple:

This is an uncopyrighted photo that was taken in Kabul, Afghanistan. The Afghans consider themselves the original “Aryans.” They’re certainly white (and those that aren’t look like white people with just enough Arab or Berber admixture to be the type of almost-white who would pass easily in New York or Atlanta).

Unfortunately, they’re also prone to blowing shit up, running over pedestrians in their trucks, and various other forms of mayhem.

NAAALT, of course. I work with one such fellow. He seems nice enough, and it’s clear from his features that I share a closer common ancestor with him than with many North Americans. In answering the only pertinent question: is he a real American? Not yet. Maybe when the Muslims take over, but that’s a few years off.

But hey, forget the Afghans and Pakistanis. There are about thirty-five million white folks in Canada. As a guy who escaped that cold and frozen shithole, I suppose I ought to beg SFC Ton not to welcome all these limp-wristed faggots and ugly feminist dykes en masse.

Trust me, you don’t want too many of us here. This country is better without Canadians in it. Please, please, please take my word for it.

Gunner Q wrote one of the more interesting possible responses to this question on his blog.

The way I would restore North America: Disempower women completely. Eliminate the welfare swamp. Free rides to the border, one-way, but if any ethnics want to earn their food, learn English and assimilate into American principles such as rule of law, they can stay. Lastly, put the death penalty on most violent crimes as well as women who get pregnant outside marriage.

Would that restore white America? Probably not; race issues would remain, therefore I would be counted a failure by evolutionary principles. But it would be an orderly society that honors its roots and is a land of justice. The clear trend in the New Testament is that God prefers a just society to a uniform society.

Setting aside the wimminz question, Gunner seems like a Steve Bannon type. A civic nationalist. I like civic nationalists. Some of my best friends and all that. In reality, though, the civic nationalists remind me of no group other than die-hard Marxist-Leninists. Whenever I talk to them, it always goes something like:

You know we’ve tried that shit for a couple hundred years, right?

Wrong, fascist! It has never been tried!

You haven’t heard of the Paris Commune in France? The Spartacist Uprising in Germany? You ever hear of the USSR? Does the Bolivarian Revolution in Venezuela not ring a bell? These were all socialist movements, and they’ve all failed spectacularly.

Fuck you, bigot! Those were all capitalist movements hijacked by crypto-fascists like you. Our revolution will be pure! We’ll get it right this time! I bet you hate black people, too!

Swap a couple of words for their civic nationalist cognates, and the above conversation is precisely similar to ones I’ve had with neoconservative Americans (including and especially the gratuitous accusations of racism).

The civic nationalists of today, like the goony communist ideologues of yesteryear, imagine they are going to succeed in compressing disparate peoples and nations to critical mass. Nevermind that everyone else has failed. The constitution and magic dirt will make it happen, somehow.

No matter how hard I try to construct a workable definition of real American, I’m unable.  That doesn’t mean that the term can’t be well-defined. It means that I’m unable to complete the job. Can you?

Are there such things as real Americans? What part of America do they come from? Are they racially similar, or not? Are they Yankees or do they sing Dixie? Sound off and let me know…

At some point, an otherwise useless feminist wrote an article entitled “Fuck Trigonometry,” suggesting that we ought to just skip over the subject entirely in school. She concluded this article with complaints about her husband.

Honeycomb responded to her in my comments section:

Students of mathematics, philosophy and physics often get hung up on definitions. It’s annoying, but it’s not for nothing. The first thing a successful student does, in encountering a new area, is to memorize definitions.

Imagine being a newly arrived freshman student at a big university, and being asked to understand this:

It happened to many of us as teenagers. The first week of the first course in the Calculus series requires incipient students to memorize that line. When it happened to me, I first copied it out, over and over and over. Within a few hours, I was able to put it into words, and within a couple of days, I was able to use it constructively. A week after we were all collectively panicking in Dr. G’s Calculus I class, those of us still in attendance were writing proofs with it, treating it as though it were a newly acquired tool, that we found in the bottom of the chest in the back closet.

Some people can’t understand it. It’s not that we’re any smarter than they are. Anyone who shows up to study Calculus is already done with trigonometry, where they were required to memorize all of this:

It’s thus fair to assume that any high-school graduate in America can study Calculus. He’s done this sort of thing before. Raw cognitive ability isn’t lacking in such people. Often they are simply unmotivated. Other opportunities (namely binge drinking and screwing strangers) avail themselves, and study is put on the back burner. The prospective student is thus weeded out. He either leaves university entirely, or he switches his major to something like literature or political science. This has a number of different benefits for everyone. It usually frees up the uninterested to pursue an area with which he is more comfortable, and it keeps the unmotivated from dragging down the rest of the class with insipid questions.

When you’re in high school and you’re taking mathematics, the whole thing seems pointless. Back when I was teaching remedial math it at a community college, I called it “faith-based trigonometry”. At this point, the trigonometry course is just a cumbersome addition to the geometry you learned a year prior. It’s just a proof-writing class, using identities one doesn’t fully understand as axioms. For those people who graduate high school and go on to study Calculus, it’s essential. If you’re in Calculus and you don’t know that cosine of pi over two is negative one half*, then you’re fucked. In fact, the values of all these trigonometric expressions end up becoming second nature, sorta like four times four equals sixteen.

Once you’re done with the last course in the Calculus series, you get to take your first course in what is called higher mathematics. (Marijuana not included.) For me, that course was called Introduction to Linear Algebra. The title itself is misleading. Every little kid learns how to solve systems of linear equations, right? No big deal!

One of my most memorable moments as a schoolboy came in this course, when we were all messing with matrices during practice time. The professor was someplace out of sight. Suddenly, I came across something that tied into a distant, old memory. At precisely this same moment, another student burst out shouting, from the back of the room: “Holy shit! It’s the half-angle formula!” As the realization spread, everyone started laughing and sighing, as though we were all patients in the university’s insane asylum.

What was once a pointless procession of symbols was suddenly illustrated, deeply and beautifully, exactly where none of us expected it to be.

*Caspar wins! (winning)

I enjoy the Anarchist Notebook, because I often find articles like the one penned on New Year’s Eve, entitled Political Warfare.

While there’s a clear trajectory towards more totalitarianism of a Leftist flavor (and a possible Reactionary response), history is less linear than it is cyclical. At some point, a return to the natural state of things will happen, but that could take many years. The Soviet Union lasted from roughly 1917 to 1991, even though its economic policies made it doomed from the start. The right global or national event may trigger a similar destruction of the heavily concentrated power found within Western countries today.

The economic policies of the USSR were identical to those of its erstwhile client state, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. The Vietnamese constitution is a cut-and-paste of the Soviet constitution. Why is the USSR gone, while Vietnam is getting wealthier by the year? The author gives us a hint in the very same article.

 This is all relevant within the context of the modern states which govern countries such as the United States of America. It is a political jurisdiction that is too large, too diverse, and too divided in order to be anything that one might regard as united (or American, for that matter). In prior times, the degree of tension and conflict within the USA would have produced a revolution, rebellion, or secession movement well before now.

The USSR dissolved not because of its economic policies, but because of what guys like Sloterdijk and Fukuyama call scale. Jamming disparate populations together increases complexity which thereby increases social atomization, which thereby increases all the derivative problems that result from it. In the end, the USSR dissolved for the same reason the USA will likely spin to pieces within the next few generations. Vietnam doesn’t have this problem. Its ethnic minorities live in their own autonomous enclaves. Moreover, it’s a small, geographically contiguous country, unlike our own.

Real Americans are a nation with no country and no government they can call their own; they are an occupied, conquered people – subjugated not through military force, but their own foolishness and subversive elements. Most of them are ignorant of this or in denial about it.

Whenever I see the phrase real American I know who the author is talking about: people who agree with him. For a white nationalist, a real American is not merely another white dude from the USA, it’s another white nationalist, who agrees with him. To the white multiculturalist, a real American is not the white nationalist, above.

The one thing that leftists at least attempt to do, which rightists don’t, is think and apply the consequences of thought to the real world. They make an honest effort to grapple with material conditions in situ. They don’t always do this well, but they do make an attempt. This is why you see leftish types in the USA coming up with laughably complicated, abstract theories about the status quo, while rightist types just retreat into mouthing meaningless buzz-words like “liberty,” “free markets” and such.

If I argue with an American liberal, I know that he’ll at least understand me. What American leftish types usually do is concede that scale is an issue, but insist that the benefits of scale will someday outweigh the problems. It’s a vulgar plagiarism of the objective historicism of Marx and Hegel, but at least they’re intelligible. Rightists just look flummoxed when I bring these things up. Eventually they’ll start muttering something about “states rights” or “the constitution”. That’s why everyone thinks they’re morons. Go read Proposition Nation Starter Kit for a funny and accessible introduction to rightist idiocy. The average neoconservative flag-waver on the American right actually believes such stuff.

In an era when “fascist” is simply a buzzword to describe anyone to the right of the accuser, and the subsequent vanishing of the distinction between citizen and radical, we can still think, and we should. When elections are openly faked, when people mistrust the state and each other, when governments struggle in vain to reclaim a legitimacy that has long since dissolved due to their own ineptitude, we can take comfort in the fact that we are at least allowed to think our own thoughts.

The phenomenon of scale has concentrated our system’s wealth in the hands of its rulers, and to this end, scale will be its own undoing. Life as an end is qualitatively superior to life as a means.

Over on Dalrock, there was an entire article devoted to someone — no one knows who — simply because he was related to someone that the author doesn’t like. That sort of tastelessness offends my sensibilities, and I expressed as much a couple of days ago.

Naturally, all the usual suspects were immediately activated, jumping into the fray. First on the scene was Cane Caldo…

The fact that Cane Caldo is libeling someone with zero evidence (no one even knows their target’s first name) shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s made his internet career doing similar scroungy things, a couple of examples have been archived here.

Some time later, God is Laughing showed up to agree and amplify…

If someone is spreading “moral rot” then (of course) they are fair game. We should troll such people mercilessly and with abandon. The problem, in this instance, is that no one can point to the target with anything substantive, suggesting he has ever done anything at all… with the exception of being related to someone they don’t like.

There are a group of people who regularly harass and threaten the family members of those others they disagree with. I’m talking about feminists and their allies, both CONservative and SJW liberal.

There is no reason for anyone on our side to stoop to this level. In the first place, such a descent would injure the dignity of a normal man. In the second, these tactics rarely work. To attack someone’s uninvolved family members is to invite all and sundry to see you as an unhinged internet kook, rather than someone who has a legitimate argument.

In any case, since God is Laughing scoffed at the idea of ethics in trolling, I thought I’d throw some thoughts up here. Ya boy Boxer grew up in the golden era of usenet, and cut his virtual teeth in places like rec.pets.cats. These are the rules I learned way back then, and I still try to follow them:

1. Do not troll any forum with “support” or “recovery” in its title.
   Hassling the despondent is the sign of a very weak troll.
2. Do not “go real life.”
   This rule includes what is now termed doxxing, but it includes looking up people’s relatives and neighbors, in an attempt to harass, threaten or otherwise bother them. That’s what began to happen over at Dalrock, and it was disturbing to see it.
3. If the forum’s owner/moderator asks you to leave, do so immediately and without drama.
   This is just common politeness. If someone came to your house and pissed on your rug, you’d probably order him out.
4. When engaging with a target, keep your sense of humor.
   The difference between a troll and a kook is basically predicated here. You can be hostile, but if you’re not being simultaneously funny or interesting, then you’re just a bore.

I have been banned from too many places to count, including David Futrelle’s Manboobz, WF Price/Welmer’s The Spearhead, and, my favorite, Catholic Answers. I have never kicked up a fuss about being asked to leave any of these places. A troll will come to expect that his account won’t last forever. Even so, sometimes it’s fair to question who is the actual “owner” of a forum. I’m speaking specifically of Twitter, which is run by a billion dollar transnational corporation, and which claims to be a public utility.

Thus there is a certain measure of exception to rule three. Aside from Twitter, I’d also put Facebook in this category. Being suspended from one of these platforms is something that can be fairly ignored (though if someone has a private page on one of these frontends, and he asks me to leave his own tiny segment, I’d respect his wishes.)

Protip: One can use Google Voice and GMail to facilitate the creation of a new Twitter account. Never stop playing one huge, faceless, corporate monstrosity against another. Rinse and repeat as necessary.

Edit 1: Dalrock has penned a good-natured rebuttal to the points I’ve raised here. I’m copying his reply below. I suppose we’ve both made our positions clear, and tomorrow is a new day to put the screws to our common feminist enemas, so without further comment…

Edit 2: As of Sunday, 7 January, Dalrock has deleted all comments which include the legal names of the family members of the combatants. I am personally grateful to him for a wise decision. This conversation is now closed, and we’ll all move on to better things.

Whenever our God Emperor President, Donald Trump, is surrounded by controversy in the mainstream press, I always like to scan the back pages. I was suspicious about all the smoke surrounding the most recent fire-in-the-dumpster. By that I mean that I suspected that Steve Bannon and Donald Trump may have been in cahoots, generating a bunch of meaningless buzz with looney insults, in order to cover up something more interesting. This has happened in the past, and it appears it’s happening now.

From Carlos Slim’s Blog:

’round about the time of the Ferguson riots, the President Butt Nekkid Obama administration hatched a plan to evacuate all the undesirables from the newly gentrified inner-cities, using your tax dollars to finance this beautification project. I guess you guys in the hinterlands will have to wait a few extra years to meet your new neighbor: Shaniqua, who was set to move in down the street with twelve of her kids and two of her babydaddies. Her eldest, born when she was fifteen, is already at the state penitentiary. Young Tarqueefious, one of the otherwise unidentifiable middle kids, is following his footsteps, and has just been released from juvenile detention for purse snatching.

By delaying and postponing, Trump accomplishes two things. He further puts the screws to the white trash rich people, who hate him regardless of what he does. Had he reversed or repealed, instead of delayed and postponed, there would have been an avalanche of frivolous court actions, filed by these same scumbags. He also gets leverage in the next election (y’all had better vote Trump, or your neighborhoods are going to become a lot less safe!).

The next time there’s a lot of high-profile insults, flying to and fro, remember what ya boy Boxer told you, and scan the back pages, to see what’s really going on!

In every human society, wimminz are the same. Woman good, man bad. Cunt good, penis bad.

About a month ago, Washington Post gleefully reported that: “The royal family welcomes a divorced, biracial American. That’s a huge change.” (Read the original article here)

What our masters in the media want you to associate here is the race angle with the fact that Mizz Markle is a skank ho divorcée. We must stand and cheer for this “biracial” American. (Her dad was a white dude, who knocked up her blackchick mom, but more on that later). This is a sinister bit of subterfuge, which keeps people from complaining, or even investigating further, for fear of being called “racist.”

Here at Chez Boxer, we know that all white people are racist by default, so we’re neither worried about the judgments of the shitlibs, nor about the virtue signaling of the establishment CONservatives. Moving on, we read that Mizz Markle is already being fêted as a feminist hero.

In an US Weekly exclusive, Karla Rodriguez reports that Mizz Markle is planning to have her mother walk her down the aisle in her latest wedding. (Read the original article here.)

Pro-tip: When you see a black chick sporting both the bulldyking cornrows, and the resting-bitch face, there’s a 100% chance she’s a feminist cunt.

Correction: This day is ultimately about her and what she wants to do.

Vanity Fair corroborated the US Weekly story, shortly after it broke, with a glowing article entitled “How Meghan Markle and Prince Harry’s Wedding Promises to Break Tradition.” (Read the article here.)

Boosting her feminist street cred is important to Mizz Markle, who, a year ago, boasted about her greatest childhood accomplishment: bullyciding a big corporation (Proctor and Gamble) into removing a marketing campaign with relentless cries of “sexism.”

As we all know, it’s perfectly normal for 11-year old girls to mount political and press campaigns. I’m sure she thought of that one, all on her own. (One can read more about this nonsense here.)

We read in the Washington Post article (linked above) that Mizz Markle has had recurrent difficulties getting along with her paternal family, including her elder sisters (by daddy’s first wife) and her grandparents. This is utterly unsurprising. Her dad had jungle fever. Those of us who like to date black chicks know the score. Your parents might tolerate a bit of dabbling in the darker hues, but they don’t want you marrying them, and they certainly don’t want you siring children with them. I’m guessing they uninvited their son from their home and lives when they heard the news.

We read further that daddy was already a divorcé and a father, with two older children of his own, when he met Mizz Markle’s mother. Mizz Markle’s mom and dad themselves divorced, when she was six or seven years old — the details on this are unsurprisingly murky. I’m guessing that dates are fuzzy because ma and pa may have met before dad’s first divorce was final, and perhaps they lived together, off and on, after the filing. (Read more about these two characters at Good Housekeeping here.)

In short, what do we have? A skank-ho feminist divorcée, who was raised by a skank-ho feminist divorcée, and a male-feminist pseudo-playa, in degenerate Hollywood. The notion of family, in the traditional sense, is completely alien to this woman. She’s been raised by a couple of hippies who “did what they wanted” without regard to norms or values. She is now all grown up in this toxic milieu, and set to ascend the throne and assume the title of “princess.”

Over on Dalrock, our brother Anon shares his theory about why this is all happening:

I think the royals did a DNA test and found that he is not the son of Charles, but can’t admit that publicly. That is why a) Princess Katherine has been instructed to rapidly pop out at least 3 kids asap, so as to eliminate any chance of Harry being King, and b) they don’t really care that he is marrying someone entirely unsuitable to be the wife of anyone first, second, third, or even fourth in line. He isn’t of royal blood anyway.

I’ve often harbored similar suspicions, as have many others. Harry’s mother, the late Princess Diana, was herself a feminist icon, appearing in public semi-nude, and adopting a number of “activist” poses for the camera.

Diana herself married when she was a virginal teenager, but she proved to be the very epitome of the nu-marriage aesthetic, as she took lovers (both domestic and foreign) before and after her messy, public divorce from Prince Charles.

So, why is this happening? It’s a fair question, and I believe the answer partly has to do with the changing demographic face of the world, and of the UK in particular. It is no longer shameful to be a divorcée, and this marriage, like many others, is more-or-less a stage-op, for public consumption. The royal family is celebrated as “changing with the times,” though there is very little change to be seen. Like his mother, Prince Harry is already a fuckup of monstrous proportions.

As the UK has been scuzzified, the common British subject has grown ever closer to the behavioral norms of their royalty, and simultaneously, the royal family has dropped its mask of moral preening ever further to appeal to the populace. It’s an infinite feedback loop of degeneracy.

There will be a high-profile wedding, probably televised internationally, and the scumbags will all continue having their private passionate follies, as they’ve always done. This marriage will last even less long than mummy and daddy’s, and Mizz Markle will get a big divorce payout as Diana did. Like his (possible) father, this marriage will be Harry’s first, but not his last. Diana’s life should come as a cautionary tale for Mizz Markle.

As for our starstruck feminist heroine, she’s oblivious, and really has no idea who she’s fucking (with) here.

I had a few weeks off for the holidays, so I had to see the much (over)hyped Star Wars film, which was released a couple of weeks ago. I’ll cop to the fact that I’m sorta culturally illiterate at this point, so these are some minor and meaningless thoughts, typed in haste.

1. As the franchise has become more feminized, it has become more feminine.

While the original films offered a clear view of the sociopolitical situation, through which well-defined narrative developed the original characters we all know and love, the latest offering is hopelessly ambiguous. Star Wars now has all the depth and world-building of a trashy Spanish novela.

In this feature, we find Luke Skywalker’s character hiding out (from what? Child support? A false rape accusation?) on a miserable sort of ghetto planet. The “hero” in this film is a purple-haired Tumblr tranny.

There is a literary and cinematic place for complex plot-weaves, in which we are forced to feel empathy for the devil; but, this was never what made Star Wars a great story.

2. The aerodynamics of space travel is annoying.

While it’s common for Star Wars movies to feature space-pilots who can pull a 5 million G acceleration without passing out, all the prior movies were entertaining enough to allow the suspension of disbelief. This one isn’t. We’re treated to views of bombs dropping with the help of gravity-in-space, cannons screaming thanks to noise-in-a-vacuum, and a moxie-filled elderly feminist surviving a few minutes in the cold and empty blackness of the void, unprotected except for what looks to be a cheeseball evening gown.

Again, there are films in which similar things happen. Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey comes to mind immediately. That was a great film, and the technical unbelievability gave way to an interest in the story. This is not a great movie, and thus such things stand out.

3. A New Hope: The Porg.

I saw this movie just after the opening weekend. The cinema I saw this film in wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t full either. At two points during the feature, the entire audience stopped talking and giggling among themselves to pay attention. The first example was when a penguin-like creature was roasted and eaten by Chewbacca. The second being when the surviving pal of said space penguin was riding shotgun in the Millennium Falcon.

If the screenwriters had any self-awareness, they’d jettison plans to pack the future films with trannies, faggots and wimminz, and just concentrate on the Porg. These tiny creatures managed to inject some legitimate emotion into a couple of brief scenes, and by the time the credits rolled, they stood out as an example of the only characters my audience was compelled to care about.

So, why?

Disney had forty years of history to draw upon, with a half dozen films, thousands of fan-fiction stories, and hundreds of already-developed characters along for the ride. There’s really no reason for them to make a bad Star Wars film, other than a desire to shit on American men and their collective childhood heroes. The Last Jedi has no coherent narrative arc to follow, no real heroism, and no cathartic ending. It was full of jarring, unfunny slapstick, stupid scenes and ham-fisted acting. It has nothing to offer anyone, and it was specifically designed that way.

The fact that critics are uniformly praising this movie to the stars (lol) is just more evidence of the grand, global disconnect between urban liberals from the core audience of the original Star Wars films, which was the average American.

In short: if you don’t mind suspending disbelief about standard physics in the cinema, check out an old Tarkovski movie. If you want to feel sympathy for the bad guy, read Cormac McCarthy. Even if you really love Star Wars, don’t bother shelling out cash to see this dumper. Get it on the torrents.

See other realtalking reviews of this film at Anarchist Notebook or Matt Forney.

I found this comment over at Spawny’s Space.

Emily McCombs is a bigwig over at HuffPost, so it should come as no surprise (not to anyone in postal code V5K 2C2, anyway) that she’s a flaming nutter.

With the exception of Fathers For Justice, there isn’t really any meaningful organized resistance to feminists. If you’re in the UK, and you aren’t supporting these men (at least in an anonymous financial / moral sense) then you aren’t doing your job. They’re out nearly every day, mocking your oppressors. Show them some love.

Their analysis is sound here, as expected. Kooky Emily’s outburst violates the Twitter rules de facto. The second set of books will keep her spewing hate. One will note the shadow-suspension of @herbiemarcuse on twitter – when ya boy Boxer never said anything as remotely actionable as this headcase.

Speaking of headcases, there are few things that make me as thankful to have been born a Mormon, rather than a Christian, than photos like these…

The epidemic of bull-dykes, larping as Mormon bishops and stake presidents, is something that I can see appearing on the horizon, but only after the Catholics are fully assimilated. Who is this bespectacled bitch, anyway, with her gay Star-Wars toy, preaching the gospel of Luke and Leia from the pulpit?

Happy New Year!

It’s a drinking holiday in Canada, the land where hoez are least tactful and most disgraceful. Canadian women are worse than American bitches. That’s a fact. I often tell this truth to you Americano brothers, and you never seem to believe me, despite evidence that is merely a click away. Since you guys needed a reminder, I have two or three.

Are you sure you wouldn’t like to move to Canuckistan, and help Mallory raise her bastard kid? She’s a binge drinker. That’s, like, super attractive.

She’s 35, and “doesn’t have kids but wants them…” I think that ship has probably already sailed away, dear… just like the chump you’re in search of.

“Wait, Boxer,” I hear you protest. “I could go to Canada and find a chaste, nice, first-gen immigrant.”

That’s true. Maybe a sweet Canadian-Muslim chickie, who loves God, and has inherited good religious values from her traditional parents.

Here’s Ayesha. She says she has a husband, but she’s on tinder because she’s “bored as fuk” (maybe that’s hoespeak for ‘looking for dicks to sit on’).

I bet you’re jealous of the man who has to pay the bills of this prize catch of a traditional wife, who is now cheating on tinder. Me too!

And lest the Americano brothers feel left out…

Meet Abbigail. The desperation is palpable.

Jazmin doesn’t say very much. For example, she doesn’t tell us whether her husband is going to be deployed when we meet for our one-night stand, or whether he’ll be on the stool in the corner, or whether he’s going to be joining the two of you for some bisexual kink. Personally, I’m inclined to assume that the photo is her way of advertising “no strings attached,” and “please don’t tell hubby.” Whatever her motivations, it’s pretty disturbing.