The Other Oppression

I've been waiting for the hate mail over my #dimepiececookout post.  I wonder, has anyone put it together yet that "dime" is for $10 and "piece" is for a piece of ass?  Yup, the dimepiecegirls hosting that lovely event in McKinney bring a whole new meaning to pool party don't they?

It should be no surprise that little miss thing appeared on the news batting her eyelashes and claiming she did nothing wrong, however her furiously flung braids prior to her being taken down tell another story.  Yuppers, that little princess with her sassy mouth seriously needs an old-fashioned ass-whoopin'.  Literally, SIT DOWN and SHUT UP. I mean who isn't sick to death of hearing how oppressed black people are, yet some of them act like total buffoons?  It's like a broken record already.  Me, me, look at me!  Lookie how bad I have it!  Meanwhile these kids are living in Craig's Ranch, which is a very nice neighborhood.  Can I just insert a rolly-eyeballed smiley here?

Now we have these black "community activists", whom I've never heard a damn thing out of until now, suddenly and furiously want to talk about oppression and racism.  They want to do it while they are sitting in the street shouting, "You can't drive if we can't swim."  Um, I thought that whole event wasn't about swimming.  So is it or isn't it? Confounding.

Since I'm an equal opportunity offender here, and so as not to be called racist or anything, I will provide you with my views on the white and Latino bikers that brawled like two year old brats down in Waco as well.  Because what is a good old dimepiecegirl thrashing without a few Harley's and tats?

Bikers.  Now there's a word that will either make you nervous or make you wet. Some people googly-eyed love them, but I have to tell you my experiences have not been all that warm or fuzzy. I've watched bikers fly in and out of traffic, pop wheelies on the freeway, and rev their engines just to prove some sort of point that only they get.  The majority of them are completely obnoxious.  Then once a year they come to our city hall and ask for the city to enact biker awareness month.  Right. They are utterly hostile toward drivers, yet we have to take extra special care to give a shit about where they are on the road.  Then there's that old-fashioned shoot up in Waco. Yup, bikers go ahead and hate on me but the several ruin people's perceptions for the few. You want people to care?  Stop racing at high speeds down the freeways and weaving in and out of traffic on the side roads.

So the black activists I'm watching on the 6 o'clock news want to complain about oppression.  Well let me tell them about oppression.  Today at the local Kohl's I got an eyeful.

But first let me give you a little background to the story.  My son has been working nearly 30 hours a week in his internship and has found he doesn't have enough dress shirts and ties to make it through the week so he's been running us ragged with trips to the dry cleaners, because seriously who has time to iron shirts anymore?  On top of that he signed himself up again to work tech for a local community theatre. He's up at 6am and after work he heads to the theatre and doesn't get home until after 11.  Suffice to say there is barely time to wash the clothes as he hops out of them at night. Mix in the fact that he has outgrown nearly his whole wardrobe since he graduated high school, and we have drama in the making.  So on the way to work this morning he ran by Kohl's and had them set aside some black Levis for the dress rehearsal tonight and summoned me to go pay for it so he could run by the house and slap those bad boys on before running to the theatre.  Well you know, that's obliviously what I'm here for.  I guess because I work from a home office I must be available all the time, what with filing my nails and all.

So I pull into the parking lot and as I'm heading into Kohl's, there are two women in full burqa and the required man to escort them, because heaven knows they cannot possibly be on their own, never mind be allowed to drive or anything.  There I am, shaking my head at the utter stupidity of these two women wearing relative full-body wool carpets, while douche bag walks with them in a short sleeved shirt and sandals.  Nice.

But no, they aren't allowed to be seen, nor seen in public without a male escort no less.  Now I don't know about you, but the temperature in my car was reading 98 degrees so I'm wondering how the hell they do it?   Seriously? I get one hot flash and I want to sucker punch anyone that looks at me, but these women are in airless sacks? Who the hell thought this was a good idea?

Now there's the face of oppression.  Stupid, stupid women. They are here in the land of the free, where snot-nosed kids feel as though they can hop a fence and make a non-pool party, well, a pool party, and they allow themselves to be bound?  I could only imagine what infidel thoughts they had of me as I shopped next to them with my bare-armed tank top, capri's and flip flops. They seemed keenly interested in the fact that I was shopping for men's dress shirts and ties.  IDK, guess my infidel hands are not supposed to touch those things either?

So while the little princess who couldn't swim in the non-pool party feels as though she is being oppressed by da cracka po po, she should try wearing a full burqa in 98 degrees and let us know how that works out for her.