Nauroin yöllä ääneen

Nyt iskee, enpä muista mitään yhtä virkeää lukeneeni pitkään aikaan. Turha siitä on sen enempää jauhaa, antaa tekstin puhua puolestaan:

"We dont look like a couple. When she smiles niggers ask her for her hand for marriage; when I smile folks check their wallets. -- Every time I dip into the water for a swim, some Mediterranean Messenger of Love starts rapping to her."

"Every fifty feet theres at least one Eurofuck beached out on a towel like some scary pale monster that the seas vomited up. They look like budget Foucaults, and too many of them are in the company of a dark-assed Dominican girl."

"About a month later, she started making the sort of changes that would have alarmed a paranoid nigger. Cuts her hair, buys better makeup, rocks new clothes, goes out dancing on Friday nights with her friends."