Thursday, August 14, 2014

Heard about Ferguson, MO?

Yeah. Me too.

One of the things that jumped out at me is the minority talk. Blah, Blah, Blah. The minorities are getting screwed, etc., etc..

The police need to represent the minority.

AH. Hey, stupids, guess what.

Ferguson MO:

The racial makeup of the city was 29.3% White, 67.4% African American, 0.4% Native American, 0.5% Asian, 0.4% from other races, and 2.0% from two or more races. Hispanic or Latino of any race were 1.2% of the population.

In case you can’t read, which, if you paid attention in school rather than dreamed of the street and getting laid, African American means Blacks.

And yous aint the minority, is you?

By the way that;s the 2010 censuses. So have fun beating up on yourselves.

Talk yourselves into doing your hearts desires and remember – we have a rogue black president, a rogue Federal Justice, and now you. Think we’ll trust a black in positions of anything, or even should we.

You certainly don’t show us a great deal.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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