Cunt of the Week: TSA House Nigger in Houston

I've been around the world, from Rio to Manila, and never have I been obligated to answer questions to the extent which I did when flying into the US, a country of which I am a citizen. In fact, I very rarely have nightmares, and just last night I had a nightmare about the Transportation Security Administration. 

Those fucking cocksuckers, who have been caught stealing more frequently than they have been highlighted for catching terrorists, should all get cancer or kill themselves.

First there was that Mexican cunt at the entry line who asked me what I did for a living. When I told her I was a writer, that wetback bitch told me that she couldn't find my books in her computer. I guess they hire people so retarded that they can't even perform a rudimentary Google search. She put an X on some piece of shit paper I had to print after taking a selfie in one of those fucking 1984 machines. I hope her children are stillborn, or that she gets brutally raped by a pack of wild niggers.

After that there was another cunt, a blond faggot who asked me if I had any bottles of liquor or cigarettes. When I responded: "I have a bottle of jenever," that cancerous human piece of shit sent me into a special screening room.

Inside, an innocent-looking Swiss kid was on his phone, when a fat-redneck-cracker-fag, who I hope dies of a heart attack or diabetes, came and very aggressively and loudly told him: "Put your phone away or I'll take it and you'll never get it back!" 

That tyrannical piece of shit... I hope his daughter marries a 'hood rat that knocks her up and abandons her with a Down Syndrome baby.

Then, after waiting 20 minutes in line, a piece of shit motherfucking mongrel, balding and with a beer belly, opens my bag. I've never had my bag opened before, but that wasn't enough for that poor excuse of an SS agent. That cocksucking mutt asked me how much money I had. 

I was very polite -- as I typically tend to be -- and took out the 90 euros or so I had in cash. I'm sitting here, wondering why a US citizen entering the US would be asked how much money he has on him? That cancerous pig humiliated me. If I had any less self-control, I would have smashed his head to a bloody pulp with my bare fists right then and there, and then I would have taken a piss on the bloody filth that would constitute the remains of his skull and brains.

Well, dear TSA fags, I hope you all get anal cancer, and I hope that all of those three pieces of shit in Houston get brutally raped, gravely aggravating their anus cancer, or that their entire families get raped while they watch the blood drip down the legs of their children. Where is ISIS when you need them?

The Hardest Thing About Dating White Women as a Black Man? Their Racist Girlfriend

I read an article yesterday about a 12-year-old black boy suspended from school for making prolonged eye contact with a white girl. It put me in a bad mood, brought back some memories. 

The other day I heard some American politician say that there is no problem with being afraid of boarding a plane full of Muslims. As I travel to my second Muslim country, I realize that I'm more afraid of boarding a plane full of white American women than I am of bunch of dudes with beards; from what I can tell, Muslim men treat me with respect, while white women fear my dark complexion, my sporadic Dominican smile, and my daydreamy gazes. Besides being accompanied by kids or by a white woman, there is almost nothing that won't take away white women's fears, and those fears are multiplied when their social circle is "infiltrated" by a negro. 

There was that depressed girl whose house was essentially abandoned, but I brought joy to her life, even her terrace went from total abandonment to an oasis. Surely, you'd expect that her girlfriends think I'm a good influence on her -- and nearly all did -- but it only takes one girl to spoil everything. "I'm worried about you," my girlfriend heard from Lupina [not real name.]
From the moment I met Lupina, I knew something was off. She didn't make eye contact, never directed her gaze at me; she exhibited all the signs of someone who was nervous and suspicious. I was absolutely not surprised when I heard that she had been telling my girlfriend to be worried about me, because from the moment I met her, she treated me as the scary "other." I don't even remember her real name; that's how little we interacted.

People like Lupina poison the well, and when they notice anything that reinforces their already preconceived notions, they go into full-attack mode. We were all sharing the same ski lodge during a vacation and, lo and behold, I made the mistake of drinking beer in the morning. Mind you, it was still 1am in Korea, from where we had flown, but it doesn't matter, she already had something that she could use to attack me.

When we all returned to Korea, my girl gets a text message telling her that I'm uninvited from a certain event, and wondering if my girlfriend was still gonna go. My girl stood by me, and I believe that this is only the case because she was Polish; had she been American like my previous ex, I don't think she would have stood by me.

It's a pattern that has repeated itself. I meet white girl, things are going nicely, then I'm introduced to her all-white female circle, and there is one girl who I feel behaves weird around me. In time, that weird-acting girl comes back to try and destroy the relationship. If my current relationship were to end, I don't think I could deal with the emotional headache that are groups of white women; I probably won't date a white girl again unless her social circle is multi-racial.

Our Humble Website Has Four Detectives Sweating Us

A tense week for Abreu Report as one of its editors was interrogated by Dutch police over an article published on this website.

Willem Jebbink, the same lawyer who defended a Dutch citizen from a charge of lèse-majesté and in the process decided to subpoena the King and Queen, is representing our soft-spoken editor, Jose Abreu. 

"There's multiple people writing for our website, some are far out of the reach of Dutch jurisdiction, but apparently the Dutch police think they can go after me based on the fact that there's allegedly a picture Add caption of me here," Mr. Abreu told Abreu Report. 

The police detective who was "offended" by that article published about her on here is extremely pissed off. Because the insult was not made directly to her while in uniform, Abreu Report's editor cannot be charged with insulting a police officer -- a crime here in the Netherlands. Instead, the policewoman alledges that she was personally, as a civilian, offended by our hard-hitting piece of journalism. 

The interrogation was originally scheduled for August, but it was rescheduled at the last minute. "Since insulting someone is not a serious crime, my lawyer and I thought that a new appointment wouldn't be scheduled, but it seems like someone is putting pressure on them, maybe Officer Cheesecunt is PMSing," said Mr. Abreu.

Detective Bakker, the officer in charge of the investigation into Abreu Report's article, was not present during the interrogation. "There were two other detectives in the room, one of them was Asian and could have been doing undercover work, maybe trying to catch that serial killer," said Mr. Abreu referring to the murderer going around distributing white heroin as cocaine and killing tourists in Amsterdam.

So, not only can the Dutch police schedule interrogations for petty crimes on short notice -- when it involves Kings and Officers being "insulted" -- but serial killers remain on the loose with little action. Simply put: the Amsterdam Police doesn't care about tourists dying from overdoses. After all, we all know that Officer Cheesecunt will lose sleep over this website, but never over those dead "junkies."

"I went into the interrogation room with my lawyer and we asked, as is our legal right, to examine the evidence against me. The white detective needed to get on the phone with Officer Bakker to determine if he could indeed follow the law. I believe that this was simply a ruse that he used to determine how I behaved while he flipped through the case file. I noticed something that looked like my facebook page and whispered into my lawyer's ear: 'they have my facebook?'" Mr. Abreu informed Abreu Report.

It turned out to be a shitty, Google Plus page which anyone could have printed out. It had a picture in black and white of some guy with a hat, but Mr. Abreu assured Abreu Report that he has never owned such a hat. 

Mr Abreu & Mr Jebbink exit police station
"When they handed us the case file to examine, and just before the detectives exited the room, the white detective said, 'don't blink.,' indicating to me that he was simply paying attention to my behavior. Mr. Jebbink then informed me that police will make a note of everything, even if I blink or smile or whisper."

Such is the level of tyranny and callousness which people in the Netherlands are subjected to: they have to fear smiling, blinking, whispering, rolling their eyes, and maybe even breathing hard in front of the police. My aunt who has travelled the world warned me against coming to the Netherlands: "those people are cold, cold as ice," she told me. But it's not that the people are cold, it's that their legal system teaches them that stoicism and silence is the complacency a monarchy needs to survive in the 21st century.