America Finally Closes Its Borders

Close Borders NowCasa Grande, Ariz.– The predominantly white inhabitants of suburban Casa Grande paraded through the streets Friday celebrating the announcement of the closing of all the Borders in the country.

Shortly before the announcement, leader of the White Brotherhood Southern Arizona Chapter Harold Smith heard rumors of Borders closing. Harold gathered his people together in a Border’s bookstore parking lot at the mall – because it is a good place to meet, he said, and they have plenty of parking today for some reason.

Harold stood on the tailgate of his pickup truck in front of a jubilant crowd at their Patriot Rally and declared, “We will finally be free from the sub-human scum a the earth – who push our health care costs higher. I mean, shit. I might not go to the dentist, but bitch, these cheeseburgers ain’t doin’ my heart no favors!” The crowd laughed and applauded.

“He’s too much!” guffawed Stevie Hargrove, 40, a toothless overalls-clad spot-welder from Tucson. Stevie clapped at every opportunity, beaming a gummy smile up to his leader, squinting through matted, sweaty hair into Harold’s silhouette against the sun.

America finally closes its Borders

Harold continued. “And I ain’t got no insurance because Obama wanted to force me to get it and how d’you think he’s gonna pay for that? Nigger was gon’ tax the wealthy to pay for it, that’s how; so I don’t even fucken want it!” The crowd again erupted into a frenzy of whistles and cheers just as a vein burst in Harold’s forehead, spraying crimson hate into the yawning mouths and down the throats of onlooking slack-jawed hillbillies whose thirst for identity only grew drier under the bottomless black ocean of beer-soaked convictions swirling unseen in Harold’s cold, beady eyes. A rainbow formed under the blood mist spewing forth from the man’s skull, and at the end of it sat a Confederate flag, perched in the grass, with a little sticker on its miniature flagpole that read, “Made in China.”

“And that brown uncivilized scum who keeps minimum wages artificially high by taking low pay for jobs that was originally intended for everyday Americans like me and Bo! Jobs like mopping up coffee shops, unloadin’ book trucks and washing the walls inside a the killhouses.”

At that, Smith’s crowd of white nationalists almost did not hear the news update over the ruckus of their own hate-filled fervor, as some frothed at the mouth and fell to their knees, speaking in tongues. But for those who could read, the closed captioning on the JumboTron News Report said everything [if it said anything].

A fictitious TV news program that actually broadcasts real news reported:

Because of mismanagement and glaring lack of foresight, Borders Bookstores all across America are shutting down permanently. Infamous for carrying only mainstream authors, and notorious for grossly overestimating the number of orange people willing to read Snooki’s biography – Border’s Inc. lowered literary standards faster than anyone could possibly write a book about it. Yet, here you are celebrating your racism underneath a giant flat-screen TV. Don’t act like you’re upset. Nothing changed. You don’t even read.

Dumbfounded mouth-breathers all across America stood solemnly, Budweiser in hand, making not a sound. For two minutes they stood, reflecting on their own hatred; but hatred of what, exactly, became unclear. A small child clutching a teddy bear to her chest tugged at her mother’s dress. “Mummy? You mean they ain’t relocatin’ dem filtty wetbacks?” But her mother was too grief-stricken to answer.

Good Old Fashioned Hate Rally
The only thing these rednecks hate more than non-whites is reading books.

Quietly they to stood until local pig farmer Jerry Pritchard, 48, broke the silence.

“Well,” Jerry started. “I hate books, too. I mean, shit. I like the Bible! Hell, who doesn’t. But you guys know what I mean. I mean, fucken … books, man.” Jerry’s detestation was met with groans of agreement, though many people were still visibly confused by the notion of a store specializing in the sale of bound paper.

Jerry licked his lips, picked up his courage and spoke again. “You guys still wanna…” Jerry clasped his hands together behind his back and toed a boot in a wide arc in the sand. “…Still wanna drag somebody behind my truck?”

The crowd again frothed and wriggled through the congregation of pickup trucks toward Jerry’s truck, chanting U-S-A and someone came up with “George Snorwell” which was repeated several times from within the group. Only the intellectual rednecks who got the reference laughed. The others just went along with it.

“But before we go,” Jerry continued, “I want to stop by Borders’ clearance sale. Larry th’Cable Guy’s thing is 40% off!”

G’HYUK!!

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Atahualpa was strangled like a rock star in a strangling chair.

It's called a garrote

An expensive liability, Atahualpa was valuable to the web design community in his time, and by 1533 he had developed the very first fully customizable plug-n-play theme this side of the Mississippi, which during that time was the edge of the known universe.

After the reigning php coder’s execution by strangling, the Incan Empire collapsed and his php code was thought for almost five hundred centuries to be destroyed – until now.

Lebal Drocer, Incorporated recently purchased exclusive rights to the Atahualpa name brand technology and plan to release it on the public within a few short hours.

A Lebal Drocer defended Atahualpa’s five centuries of usefulness in a press conference Thursday. He said, “Remember how the Spanish used him to control the Incan Empire? Now Elf Wax uses him to control their CSS.”

And only a single tear was shed, when he was told he could no longer cross the border to Arizona.

This one's on me, Roajoke.

Now, I don’t normally do this. Hell, I never do this. But if anyone’s got the right make fun of Roanoke, it’s either a current or former citizen. NOT some wackjob from Tucson, Arizona! They can’t even spell Tooson right.
Lost? You should be. Here’s the deal. Dolla Billz came across this lovely article, describing the journalistic abilities (or lack thereof) of one Jennifer Waddell, a former reporter in Roanoke. Oh, did I mention that she’s smokin hot on TV and even hotter in person? Hell, in journalism that’s like 85% of the job. Now, this article, posted by some crazed, no-life at a gay people community in Arizona, bashes Ms. Waddell for being biased and prejudice because of blah blah blah. What struck my rage vein was this quote:

“Perhaps that kind of biased and prejudicial reporting worked in Ms. Waddell’s native Roanoke, Virginia, but I hope she has learned that in Tucson it is not acceptable.”

Nah dude, I think not. Not while there is a Ronald W. Nitro on this planet will this shit fly. No one from Arizona is going to bash Roanoke nor (more importantly) Roanoke goddess, Jennifer Waddell like that. He should be thanking Heaven that she even moved out there. But that’s not my point. Point is good ol’ Kent Burbank, for mentioned douche, got a nice ragemail from me. “Will ya post it?” Pleeeeeeease. Who do you think I am? Dick Cheney?

This is in response to your lovely, childish post, “Wingspan Responds to Jennifer Waddell’s Sensationalistic Journalism.”
First of all, you need a hobby or something if a simple news story causes this type of child-like behavior, I.E. you calling for everyone to email, call, and bother her at any expense to complain. Get a life, dude.
Secondly, I’m not one hundred percent in love with the tone of this statement:
“Perhaps that kind of biased and prejudicial reporting worked in Ms. Waddell’s native Roanoke, Virginia, but I hope she has learned that in Tucson it is not acceptable. We hold our journalists to higher ethical and journalist standards.” – Yourself.
What’re you implying sir? What did Roanoke do to you? Did I miss something or is Roanoke the biased and prejudice capital of America? Do you recognize your contradiction here? You post a full article criticizing Ms. Waddell’s “prejudice” and then you lower yourself to the same level by assuming that Roanoke is a Mecca to prejudice values simply because Jennifer Waddell used to be a reporter there. Shame on you, Kent. If there was “Wingspan” type community for the citizens of Roanoke, you’d be on their list, pal! Why don’t you give me YOUR personal cell phone number so I can call and harass you for being prejudice? How’s that sound?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, you hypocrite. Just because there’s no cacti in VA doesn’t mean you have to jump to conclusions. And by the way, just for your information, I’ve met Jennifer Waddell in person when I was living in Roanoke, and she’s so beautiful that she could turn any gay guy straight. Maybe next time, open your eyes, close your ears, and please, for the internet’s sake, turn off your computer. For good. That’s all… for now.

You’re welcome.
Ronny Nitro
More on this story as it develops. Hopefully.