New Orleans, French Quarter

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The Week’s Most Hissing, Prissing, and Armisticing Headlines

ALL THAT FRITTERS IS NOT GOLD
Patrisse Cullors is the BLM zeppelin who embezzled millions of George Floyd bucks before being kicked out of her own bankrupt org. And now she’s reinvented herself as a “performance artist,” raking in gullible white-folk bucks by painting herself gold and parading around at high-end parties hosted by the kind of society clods you hope find themselves alone on a Bed-Stuy street at midnight.

Looking like an Oscar statue if the model had been Rerun from What’s Happening!, Cullors displays her knack for turning gold lamé into gold lame. Indeed, she’s not so much bullion as cowion.

But didn’t Cullors sign a multimillion-dollar production deal with Warner Bros. in 2020? Whatever happened to that?

Well, as reported last week, the deal was quietly canceled after Cullors took the dough and ran.

Warners should’ve known something was up when Cullors demanded to be paid in EBT cards.

To be fair, Cullors did submit several TV show ideas to Warners, including:

Berger & Frye. Jamaal Berger and Danitra Frye are private investigators who expose corrupt McDonald’s employees who give black people cold-ass fries.

The Separate But Equalizer. Darshawn Juggins is a mercenary who travels the world saving black people from cold-ass fries.

Dream Weaver. A Twilight Zone-esque irony tale about a black woman who wishes for the world’s longest weave, only for it to get caught in a McFlurry machine during a brawl over cold-ass fries.

Space: 161999. Earth’s blacks, fed up with cold-ass fries, travel to the sun to finally get fries that are hot enough (alternate title: Battlestar Gablacktica).

When Warners execs noticed a recurring theme in Cullors’ story ideas, they realized that they could’ve saved millions by just paying her with “them goooood fries.”

Lesson learned.

FROM ANNEX TO EX-ANNE
Until last week, few people outside Germany knew that there’s an “Anne Frank Daycare Center” in Saxony-Anhalt.

And to be sure, the center, in operation for fifty years, has had its share of issues. To begin with, every time the staff plays hide-and-seek with the children, they never find them again. Games of cowboys and Indians are complicated by the fact that the child playing the sheriff gets hauled away because he’s wearing a yellow star. And lunchtime is plagued by a network of informants who squeal on kids who take an extra cookie.

Still, for a half century the daycare center flourished, as German children who inquire about the facility’s name are told by smiling employees, “Why, she’s the little girl your grandparents hunted down and murdered!”

Nap time at Anne Frank Daycare was always filled with weeping.

Yet now the fate of the school is in question thanks to Islamic “refugees.” Muslim parents object to the daycare center carrying a name that celebrates a Jew.

Bowing to pressure (and threats of throat-slitting), local officials decided to rename the center “World Explorer” to appease the Muslim newcomers. The first suggested alternate title, “Behead All Bitches Who Show Their Hair,” was rejected as too lengthy. The second, “Little Miss Mufti,” was abandoned for requiring too much historical context.

Needless to say, Germany’s retreat on the Anne Frank name caused an international incident, with even the NY Times covering the story, although ace reporter Graham Bowley refused to mention the Muslim immigrant angle, pinning the name change on pressure from fictional “right-wingers” while only mentioning in passing the objections of “parents with a migrant background.”

Makes perfect sense that a man named “Bowley” would unleash the diarrhea of Anne Frank.

Responding to the outcry, the local burgermeister took a break from banning toys to declare that he’ll oppose the name change, even if it angers the local Muslims.

His family asks that donations in his memory be made to local charities.

PLIGHT OF THE OUTDOORSMAAAAAN
Two stories last week highlight the unhappy lot of the black outdoorsman.

For decades, American blacks have wanted to be bird-watchers, but they were intimidated by the fact that birds have racist names.

Turns out Polly don’t want no cracka—Polly be a cracka.

Last week, the nation’s premier birding organization, the League of Extraordinary Time Wasters (a.k.a. the American Ornithological Society), announced an across-the-board renaming of birds, so that no bird will carry a name that might offend a black person.

One example provided by The Washington Post is the John Townsend warbler. In the 1800s, Townsend apparently studied the skulls of Native Americans to prove his theory that they’re racially inferior to whites. The bird will now be renamed the Robert Townsend warbler, in honor of the fact that its output is unfailingly mediocre. The Thomas finch will become the Philip Michael Thomas finch, as the bird appears once every forty years and then flies away forever.

The Asian cuckoo will become the Asian coldcock, in honor of the favorite pastime of urban blacks. The Georgia pipit will become the George Floyd pop-it, to commemorate his love of pills. The fiery bushshrike will now be known as the Tuskegee syphiliser. The Antillean mango will change to the Emmett Tillean man-go. The ashy-headed babbler will be renamed Maxine Waters, and the black-necked weaver will be rechristened the Darqueesha hairdo.

Meanwhile, Sabrina Pace-Humphreys is a 45-year-old black woman who’s dedicated her life to berating white trail hikers, calling them Nazis. Pace-Humphreys, founder of the website BlackTrailRunners, spends her days hiking and yelling at whites, “Why they no blacks on this trail? Why y’all gotta be white?”

During a recent hike she lost her footing and slid down a hill. She cried for help: “I was screaming for dear life,” she told Metro. “Five white men ran past me as if I wasn’t there.”

You harangue people all day, insult them for their skin color, and then those same people don’t run to your aid when your clumsy big-ass Jar Jar Binks feet trip you up and you fall. How odd!

On the bright side, while lying belly-up in the mud, Pace-Humphreys saved at least one bird species from a name change: In her honor, the black-bellied loon will remain as-is.

HE TRIED THAT IN A SMALL TOWN
In a March TV interview, Bubba Copeland, mayor of Smith’s Station, Alabama, called his town “Mayberry 2023,” a reference to the classic Andy Griffith sitcom. Copeland, a bald overweight Baptist pastor, must have been referring to this “lost episode” of the show:

Barney Fife: “Andy, somethin’s wrong with Gomer! He’s wearin’ a dress and high heels!”

Andy: “Now, Barney, maybe it’s just for a costume party.”

Gomer: “Uh-uh, sheriff. You kin call me Gomera. I’m a lady now.”

Andy: “Wait, is that Aunt Bee’s bra?”

Gomer: “Well, surprise surprise surprise!”

Turns our Mayor Copeland was living a double life in between meeting with Donald Trump and teaching Sunday school. In his spare time he was role-playing as “transgender curvy girl Brittini Blaire,” his online alter ego. And he was stealing the identities of actual women in town, impersonating them on porn sites and writing online fiction about murdering them.

Last week John Cougar Mellonhead’s world came crashing down when his secret life was exposed by a conservative website. After defending himself by telling reporters that dressing as a woman and impersonating female townsfolk while masturbating on porn sites was nothing more than “a hobby I do to relieve stress,” Mayor McJizz tragically took his own life.

Well, I was born in a small town
And I went trans in a small town
Probably die in a small town
Buried in split skirt and panties

A special election has been scheduled to find a new mayor. The leading candidate? Patrisse Cullors, who told local papers “this is the only town on earth where I seem normal in comparison.”

QUARTER POUNDER WITH SLEAZE
When Candace Owens trends on Twitter, you know you’re in for some truly outstanding stupidity. Indeed, Owens is the Château Mouton-Rothschild of airheads; something to be savored, appreciated.

Last week Owens decided to weigh in on the Israel/Gaza conflict, and all sides briefly ceased the bloodshed as they waited for her words of wisdom like YouTubers awaiting the next video of the dog that breaks wind in its own face.

Owens, who previously defended her good friend “Ye” by claiming that when he said “I love Hitler” it was mistranscribed by the lamestream media because he was actually speaking of a popular German tourist destination, “Isle of Hitler,” told her podcast audience that she cannot back Israel in the Gaza conflict because in Jerusalem the Jews have something called the “Muslim Quarter” where Muslims are “quartered” like slaves, unable to leave.

When her guest corrected her, explaining that in this context “quarter” means “neighborhood with a distinct character,” not a barracks or servants’ lodging, Owens froze like a deer in headlights, though with far less cognitive processing abilities.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” she sheepishly replied.

It’s actually funny to think that Owens believes that New Orleans’ French Quarter is a place where the city’s French residents are imprisoned.

Jean-Pierre: “Mon Dieu, may I not move to Lafayette, monsieur?”

Governor Edwards: “No, Frenchy. You have to stay in YOUR QUARTER! That’s the law.”

As left-wing protesters in Tacoma blockaded the city’s port because they believed one of the ships might be carrying aid to Israel, it’s good to know that Owens was doing her part to make those imbeciles look less stupid in comparison.

While the Tacoma protesters chanted the familiar “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free,” Owens ended her podcast with “From the ocean to the piers, is less empty space than between my ears.”