Whites vs Blacks Who Can Win the Interracial Sex Battle Part 2
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Why Blacks Could Rule The World free porn video
The name is Bartleby Florestal and I’m a big and tall black man living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I’m originally from the Republic of Haiti, down in the Caribbean. A long time ago, I was a police officer. I came to America in my early thirties and decided to go back to school. Thus, I enrolled at Brockton Community College, majoring in the field of Criminal Justice. I’m very close to finally getting my associate’s degree. In the meantime, I’m getting trained as a corrections officer at the Corrections Officer Training Academy down in the town of Boston. Life is good.
When I lived in Haiti, I married my high school sweetheart, a tall and beautiful black woman named Janet. We raised a son together, Bernard Florestal. Shortly before I came to America, Janet was killed by some people during a riot at the nation’s capital, Port-Au-Prince. I can’t tell you how it felt, losing the love of my life. For months I looked for her killer, thoughts of vengeance on my mind. Unfortunately, I could not find him or her. I was on a destructive path, mad with grief. I alienated friends and family, and even neglected my son.
In the end, it took my mother Augustine’s words of wisdom to put me back on the right path. My wife Janet was dead. Nothing I could do to her killers would bring her back. However, she would be in deep sorrow if she could see the man I had become. A man who lost himself in the pursuit of vengeance and neglected his family and responsibilities. Such a man was not the stalwart individual Janet loved while she lived. My mother was right. I loved Janet too much to disgrace her memory. I had my son Bernard to take care of. And so I took care of him to the best of my ability.
Three years ago, I moved from Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, to Brockton, Massachusetts, in the United States of America. I was not alone. My mother Augustine Florestal, my son Bernard and my brother Stefan also came with me. We rented a fairly large apartment in Brockton’s North Side and began our new lives. My brother Stefan got himself a job as a clerk at a grocery store. I started working security and attending the local community college. My son went to school. As for my mother, she took care of us. As she has always done. Isn’t she great?
For ages, I busied myself with school and work. There was rent to pay and I was also saving money for Bernard’s college education. Back in the day, I attended the University of Notre Dame in Haiti. It was important to me that my son attended a good college and made something of himself. That’s why I worked so hard. No matter how much I loved my family, I still had some needs they couldn’t satisfy. Some manly needs, if you people reading this drivel catch my drift. Yeah, I mean it that way.
Brockton Community College was full of women. Half of the campus was women, in fact. We’re talking about thousands upon thousands of females there. They were black, white, Asian, Latin, Middle-Eastern and everything in between. All races and body types. Tall, short, stocky, fat, thin, muscular, flabby, thick and everything in between. You’d think in a place filled with so many women, I wouldn’t have a hard time meeting someone interesting. Yeah, that’s what I thought. I thought there were a lot of women at Brockton Community College. I was wrong. The campus was filled with harpies, hussies and bitches. I’m not exaggerating, and I’m not bitter. I’m simply telling the truth.
Back in Haiti, I knew plenty of educated, intelligent and sophisticated black men and black women. These were the people who headed my country’s businesses, schools, corporations, churches, etc. I thought the black men and black women of America would be the same way. I was terribly, horribly and terrifyingly wrong. America’s black men and black women were for the most part lazy, uneducated, ill-mannered and bitter. I don’t know what’s wrong with them. Seriously. When I’m on the bus, I see young black women screaming at each other, calling one another by colorful names such as bitch, whore and chicken-head. I don’t know too many young black men who are in college but I know plenty who have been to prison. Lots of young black women barely out of high school have multiple offspring by multiple fathers. These females can barely support themselves, yet that doesn’t stop them from getting pregnant every time the wind blows. What could be in their minds? Have they heard of condoms? Or simply saying no? It’s eerie!
I met many white men and white women who walk around with an air of superiority. They act like they’re untouchable, as if the planet belongs to them. And black men and black women living in America are envious of them and deeply resentful at the same time. It’s funny. Where I come from, the president is a black man. My doctor is a black woman. My son’s pediatrician is a black man. The nicest restaurant in my town is owned by a black person. As is the biggest corporation on the island. Black men and black women can and do accomplish great things where I come from. We don’t envy white people. We don’t hate them. We know we’re just as good. Black men and black women are genetically the same species as white men and white women. We have the same level of intelligence. We’re just as good. That’s what logic tells me. I wish it were so in America.
Too often I see black men and black women tearing each other to pieces. A prominent and accomplished black man who became a Supreme Court Judge was nearly brought down by an accusation made by a black woman. A black mayor lost his seat after having an affair with a black female member of his cabinet. See what I mean? In America, black women hate black men with a fiery passion. The black woman is always trying to tear down the black man. She doesn’t want him to accomplish anything. She wants him down in the gutter. Way down in the hole. Right beside her. Why must it be that way? Black politicians have more to fear from their fellow blacks than from whites. Why? Black entertainers are often victimized by black fanatics. Why? Nothing in the world hates a black man like a black woman. Why?
I wish things were better. I wish black mothers would stop mistreating black fathers and preventing them from spending time with their sons and daughters. Parental Alienation runs rampant in the black community. Black females who demand financial support ( to which they are legally entitled) from black males whose offspring they are raising should also be made to allow these same black men to spend quality time with their sons and daughters. A father is more than a check in the mail. A father is irreplaceable. He teaches a son or daughter something no mother can teach them. A mother is valuable, but she can’t be everything to her son or daughter. Parenthood is a two-person job. Let no one, especially some man-hating white feminist academic, tell you otherwise.
What can a father teach a son or daughter that a mother can’t? A father can teach his son how to be a strong, confident, smart and capable man. A father can teach his daughter how to be a respectable lady who will respect a man and demand that he respect her in return, or else. A mother provides love, structure, discipline, comfort and nurturing to a son or daughter. But she can’t do everything. The father must do his part. For him to do his part, he must be allowed to spend time with his son or daughter. He must be allowed to teach them what he knows. He must be allowed to develop a strong, loving and respectful relationship with them. He can’t be expected to do that if the mother vengefully prevents him from seeing his son or daughter yet drags him to court whenever she wants more money from him. Fatherhood is more than a check in the mail and an occasional visit. Let no one tell you otherwise.
Yes, this is what I noticed about the state of the affairs between black men and black women living in America. I wish things could be better. I wish black men and black women would stop seeing each other as enemies. Unfortunately, that’s what they’re genetically designed
to do. Well, those blacks born and raised in America that is. We Haitians aren’t perfect. We’re extremely arrogant. We’re remarkably vain. We can be vicious. We are poor, downtrodden and unfortunate but we are also brave, strong and resilient. We are a dangerous bunch. But we love our families. Black men and black women born and raised in America should try to be more like us. Maybe then they might become a people they themselves can be proud.
Liesl
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