The Bitter Banana Bi-Weekly

Don’t inquire me about how cute your squirming yellow blob is. If I have to look at another member of God’s Biggest Mistake being brought into the world, I’ll cut myself in two with an industrial razor, starting from my genitals, up to the top of my scalp, then down and back to the other end of my swollen, hairy, and very dark “raspberry”.

Man was created when God and his wife Lucifer were canoodling aboard a cloud. After intercourse, God started wanking his incredible cock (for He has no refractory period), accidentally dribbling his fertile man juice over the Earth, spawning people of all colors except yellow, for yellow is everything that Existence deemed shall not be. But then his girlfriend had a massive queef, raining rancid yellow pus over the World, in which Chinamen are incarnated from. Appalled by this abomination, God damned Lucifer to the deepest boiling caverns of Hell, where she gave birth to Satan.


Why has God not smited the Mongoloid barbarians with a hail of the Blitz of Sanctity is not known. Perhaps he has deemed that the very self-acknowledgement of their existence by Chinamen is already the most brutal form of Hell that can be contemplated by mortals, a mere shadow of the far more spanning sanctum of eternal torture that awaits them in the afterlife…

I would have been a avid pet lover, were it not that my idiot ChinaDad had consumed every damn dog I owned.

Canine is a common ingredient for any “Shanghai Surprise” present in the menus of a Far East eatery. Thus, it is no surprise that dogs in this century answer the chink’s mutt-lust with a riposte of their own, vigilant and violent resistance by incoherent barking and biting.




Common fact decrees that all yellow-skins of America tend to shun from adopting masculine pets. Instead of buying a noble hound, they’d settle for a warmly hairball who scuttles aimlessly for food. On my way to the bank, I saw the miserable little wretch droops her tongue about in exhaustion, bound by a fabric leash held by a hungry Chinaman. Drawing a conclusion by observing her wide doggie girth, I assumed that she is taking her final voyage to slaughterhouse, where she would have all her bodily dimensions weighed and assessed before having her meat divided between the many City Woks in Chinatown. Her master held up his neck, revealing the ghastly flea ridden dog hairs hanging from his unhygienic yellow teeth, slanted his eyes in pride, and with a huff, coldly dragged his prized floundering bowwow down the sidewalk.

Orientals are too scared to buy themselves a real pet to fatten up in fear that their mongrels’ll overpower them. Even yarping little wiener-dogs can instill fear into the cautious rice-picker.

So next time, if you take your chivalrous and loyal four-legged companion out for a Sunday stroll, and you see some shrimpy-looking gook smacking his lips in delight, unhand your grip on the leash and set your hound of war against him!