ITT we write Elsa Jean a letter using one word each. Max

>>39529410

degenerate

captcha: kill marxists and jews

>>39529410

What we must fight for is to safeguard the existence and reproduction of our race and our people, the sustenance of our children and the purity of our blood, the freedom and independence of the fatherland, so that our people may mature for the fulfillment of the mission allotted it by the creator of the universe. Every thought and every idea, every doctrine and all knowledge, must serve this purpose. And everything must be examined from this point of view and used or rejected according to its utility.

>>39529410
Elsa is a cuck (X25)

Excuse the stains on this letter, for I appear to have soiled myself and this is my only source of paper at the moment.

>>39529429
>>39529435
ONE WORD EACH
N
E

W
O
R
D

E
A
C
H

You
Cjwhxjwbdhjwv

traitor

unoriginal race traitor comment

Nigger

Bgyivdssjb

jews

dsok;ghj;odstfghjds

How
Unoriginalcouldyoubeelsa?

Could
Shouldwouldcouldwood

You
Besounoriginaljustuuughkyselsa

Be
Beessaybuzzbuzzbuzzzzz

This
Dumbholyshitdidcowsraiseyou?

Disgusting
Blahvalhblahamioriginalornot?

>>39529655

cock

42132141

this thread would better on /b/ dontcha think, lads?

Cunt-busters

gyuuykgkuh

On the way to the bus stop,
Bill saw somebody he recognized
walking towards him, but he
couldn't remember his name.
He began to think of things
to say when they'd be
close enough
to acknowledge each other.
As they drew nearer,
their eyes locked,
uncertain if the other
was gonna stop to talk.
The person greeted Bill
as Bill mixed up the phrases
"What's up" with
"How's it going?"
Confused, the person
blurted out "Thanks"
before he knew
what he was saying.
Words caught in Bill's throat
and he replied, "Weh."
They did a sort of
awkward half turn,
and then continued on
now confident
that the other was not gonna
stop to talk.
They never saw each other again,
and a day later had each
forgotten the whole thing.
Later that night, Bill sat down
and put on a big sweater,
but it only made him sleepy.
In the supermarket,
Bill was always very careful
to select fruit from only
the back of the produce piles,
as the fruit in the front
was at crotch level
to the other customers.
An old man who smelled of
gasoline held up an onion
and said, "Big onion,"
to no one in particular.
He smiled at Bill
and Bill looked at his socks.
At the checkout counter,
Bill found himself
behind a big guy
whose T-shirt read,
"Second Place
is the First Loser."
The checkout girl said,
"How are you doing today?"
Bill said, "Fine, thanks,
how are you?"
She didn't answer.
Bill felt used.
As he waited for his next bus,
Bill stared at
a torn shopping bag
that was blowing in the wind
on the end of a broken pole
and anxiously sucked blood
out of a sore
in the corner of his mouth.

>>39529410
because youre a nigger-fucker