Since the dawn of history the negro has owned the continent of Africa--rich beyond the dream of poet's fancy, crunching acres of diamonds beneath his bare black feet. Yet he never picked one up from the dust until a white man showed to him its glittering light. A hunter by necessity, he never made an axe, spear, or arrowhead worth preserving beyond the moment of its use. In a land of stone and timber he never sawed a foot of lumber, carved a block, or built a house save of broken sticks and mud. With league on league of ocean strand and miles of inland seas, for four thousand years he watched their surface ripple under the wind, heard the thunder of the surf on his beach, the howl of the storm over his head, gazed on the dim blue horizon calling him to worlds that lie beyond, and yet he never dreamed a sail! He lived as his fathers lived--stole his food, sold his children, ate his brother, content to drink, dance, and sport as the ape!
& listen, I don't blame ya. When they was comin' for Daddy late in the last century I was insensed, driven with such hatred as you are now. Consumed with it. They was comin' after him, not Kobe, but, Daddy, and they was comin' to high tech lynch him.
And you know what else? They was gonna have the time of their lives stringin' him up.
TOSB Duncan -
June 17, 2010
I don't even have the extra sauce for the barrel anymore. Kori broke my ass this afternoon.
I feel like death warmed over.
It's the goods.
Dale, your mother is on the phone. Should I tell her to fuck herself some more?
Come ta Pappy.
bend over fuck
Culby having a late night snack of shit sandwiches tonight.
I didn't notice any new barrel threads tonight. Why is that?
I'll throw one here too.
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