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Thread: Hi! I'm Street-Walking Barbie/nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens

  1. #1
    Street Walking Barbie's Avatar
    Street Walking Barbie is offline nigger-Humping yenta-kikess from Queens Junior Member Street Walking Barbie has a little shameless behaviour in the past
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    Gone through all the moon-crickets in Queens, headed for the Bronx
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    Default Hi! I'm Street-Walking Barbie/nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens

    Hi! I'm Street-Walking Barbie/nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens


    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...324#post347324
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6111#post6111

    And, no shit, I'm a real kike bitch. Can't get no whigger pecker, so must settle for nigger and Puerto Rican monkey man-meat for my yenta hole. Gone through all the moon-cricket pecker in Queens and Staten Island, am thinking of taking on my slutikina glory-hole to the moolies in the Bronx.

    But in the meantime, I'll bother the Real White Men over on StumbleInn and here, on Christian Nationalist. I'm a victim you know. This from another Esther-kikess who at least got some whigger pecker of stature, Debby Schwartz-Goad.

    .
    Answer Me! Issue #3 (1993)
    I Hate Being A Jew by Debbie Goad


    I'm a jew. I hate being one. I'm so jewish I even hate my self hatred. I even hate the fact I'm telling you this, and I hate myself for feeling that way. I feel like vomiting blood whenever I ponder my status as a wretched daughter of Judah.

    My Family, a pathetic lost tribe living on the tip of Coney Island, was stereotypically Jewish. Their outlook on life was about as sunny as a piece of shit floating down a gutter in a November rain. Their misery swallowed them up like the Red Sea engulfed the Egyptians.

    If my family were God's Chosen People, they didn't seem very happy about it. Our house was like a morgue. Inside it was as cold and painful as an arctic wind blowing on a toothache. It smelled like moldy pickles mixed in embalming fluid. My family moped around in their self styled concentration camp. I don't remember laughter. I recall walking stiffs who never smiled. Even on Holidays , it felt like someone had just died. The menorah was always half-unlit, never half-lit. DOOMM.

    My kinfolk were so hung up about things going right, they made everything wrong. Even when I swore that things were fine, they'd skip right over it in their quest to unearth some possible calamity. If I bit into a piece of candy, they warned about cavities. If I had a pimpple, they tought about cancer. If I had my period, they were sure it was hemophilia. If my lips were chapped, they thought it was leprosy.

    Oy vey! My family members were only happy when they were unhappy. Breathing, sleeping, and eating, they suffered. They were experts at pointing out the worst that could happen. They were convinced they'd get screwed no matter what they did. They couldn't concieve of being anything but the victim. They specialized in finding problems.

    If someone complimented them, they were suspicious. If I bought something, they bitched about the price. If a check came in the mail, they worried about the taxes. Where I saw opportunity, they percieved threats. If I planned a vacation, they were certain I'd get mugged. If I got a new pet, they'd say it carried diseases. If I said I liked something, they didn't.

    They wouldn't dare leave anything to chance. They scurried around like Kosher squirrels storing their nuts for the next holocaust. They stockpiled toilet paper, Q-tips, and toothpaste. Night tables were crammed with lotions. ointments, tubes, inhalers, pills and decongestants. Yet with all these medications, they were still sick in the head. They longed for so much security, they might as well have lived in a casket.

    My father was a weak shell of a man chained to his parents like a Hebrew slave. He belted out his bitter pain by singing in Catskills talent contests, sounding like a broken motel room heater. The whole audience snickered at him, including us. My mother was no better, though. She slammed doors on all my boyfriends, went through all my drawers, opened all my mail, and eavesdropped on all my phone conversations. My brother ran around like Jerry Lewis with one pant leg longer than the other, begging my parents for advice.

    My three uncles sat in the kitchen without their dentures, moaning about blood pressure and asthma. When they ate , they emitted snorts and grunts not worthy of swine. They grabbed at food in a completely crass fashion. They gobbled with their mouths open, yapping while chewing. Pieces of grub got spit out and landed on the tablecloth in crude lumps. Gravy dribbled from their jowls down onto their pants in one ugly stream. When they finished, the slobs would lift their plates and lick them clean.

    Then, out of nowhere, these demented sons of Abraham would throw knickknacks off the mantlepiece, scream until the veins on their knecks popped out, and tear open their shirts in self-pitying agony. The relatives were just as bad. These two faced gossips would drop by uninvited, poking their big noses up my ass to uncover my darkest secrets. They all looked the same: potato-shaped bodies, wrinkled grimaces of pain, and stooped posture. Their physiques were molded in the same depressed shape as their emotions.

    And then came the moment that they had spent their lives rehearsing for: death. Cancer finally struck my mother. It didn't take the old man long to marry a Russian battle axe fresh off the boat. She's his fat little bubeleh. She loves to hear him kvetch. She loves to take his money. I guess papa found a new family, one more Jewish than me. I fantasize about dressing up as an SS Officer and visiting him on passover to slaughter him like the sacrificial lamb he always dreamed of being. I'll force feed him my shit like it's a matzoh dumpling!

    My Jewish family is thankfully almost all dead now. Unfortunately, they had the last laugh. They succeeded in making me miserable. That cloud of gloom hangs over me like nuclear winter. I seldom smile. It takes a lot to make me laugh. I'm in a constant state of apprehension. I focus on the negative. If twenty good things happen, I'll dwell on one mishap. I expect to hear only bad news. I can't handle crisis situations. I look for the worst in people and I easily find it. When someone sends me a greeting card, I'll turn it over to check the price. I'm always counting my money. People tell me that I look sad, as if something devastating happened. I wear three thousand years of persecution on my face. Just by being around these nerve wracking mental leeches and their maddening behavior, an invisible star of david has been branded on my forehead.

    I wish my family had lived next to the Hitlers. At least the Nazis knew how to dress and turn their anger outward. I wish there was a perfume I could sprinkle on myself the mask the hebraic stench. I even have a name for it: Final Solution. But the oppressive smell won't go away until I'm stone-cold dead, a lifeless Jewess in my ow private Auschwitz.

    .

    I just bet I make jewr trigger-finger itch, Pastor Lindstedt. Want to hear me kvetch until you break out the P-38?

    Last edited by Street Walking Barbie; 06-30-2012 at 05:34 AM. Reason: Stream of nigger-Humping yenta-kikeishness
    I luv niggers

  2. #2
    Join Date
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    Default Well, since jew ask, yes, jew DO make my Aryan Genesis 3:15 trigger-finger itch, nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens.

    Well, since jew ask, yes, jew DO make my Aryan Genesis 3:15 trigger-finger itch, nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens kike sow bitch.


    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...326#post347326
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6136#post6136


    Quote Originally Posted by Street Walker Barbie View Post
    Hi! I'm Street-Walking Barbie/nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens!!!


    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...324#post347324
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6111#post6111


    And, no shit, I'm a real kike bitch. Can't get no whigger pecker, so must settle for nigger and Puerto Rican monkey man-meat for my yenta hole. Gone through all the moon-cricket pecker in Queens and Staten Island, am thinking of taking on my slutikina glory-hole to the moolies in the Bronx.

    But in the meantime, I'll bother the Real White Men over on StumbleInn and here, on Christian Nationalist. I'm a victim you know. This from another Esther-kikess who at least got some whigger pecker of stature, Debby Schwartz-Goad.

    .
    Answer Me! Issue #3 (1993)
    I Hate Being A Jew by Debbie Goad


    I'm a jew. I hate being one. I'm so jewish I even hate my self hatred. I even hate the fact I'm telling you this, and I hate myself for feeling that way. I feel like vomiting blood whenever I ponder my status as a wretched daughter of Judah.

    My Family, a pathetic lost tribe living on the tip of Coney Island, was stereotypically Jewish. Their outlook on life was about as sunny as a piece of shit floating down a gutter in a November rain. Their misery swallowed them up like the Red Sea engulfed the Egyptians.

    If my family were God's Chosen People, they didn't seem very happy about it. Our house was like a morgue. Inside it was as cold and painful as an arctic wind blowing on a toothache. It smelled like moldy pickles mixed in embalming fluid. My family moped around in their self styled concentration camp. I don't remember laughter. I recall walking stiffs who never smiled. Even on Holidays , it felt like someone had just died. The menorah was always half-unlit, never half-lit. DOOMM.

    My kinfolk were so hung up about things going right, they made everything wrong. Even when I swore that things were fine, they'd skip right over it in their quest to unearth some possible calamity. If I bit into a piece of candy, they warned about cavities. If I had a pimpple, they tought about cancer. If I had my period, they were sure it was hemophilia. If my lips were chapped, they thought it was leprosy.

    Oy vey! My family members were only happy when they were unhappy. Breathing, sleeping, and eating, they suffered. They were experts at pointing out the worst that could happen. They were convinced they'd get screwed no matter what they did. They couldn't concieve of being anything but the victim. They specialized in finding problems.

    If someone complimented them, they were suspicious. If I bought something, they bitched about the price. If a check came in the mail, they worried about the taxes. Where I saw opportunity, they percieved threats. If I planned a vacation, they were certain I'd get mugged. If I got a new pet, they'd say it carried diseases. If I said I liked something, they didn't.

    They wouldn't dare leave anything to chance. They scurried around like Kosher squirrels storing their nuts for the next holocaust. They stockpiled toilet paper, Q-tips, and toothpaste. Night tables were crammed with lotions. ointments, tubes, inhalers, pills and decongestants. Yet with all these medications, they were still sick in the head. They longed for so much security, they might as well have lived in a casket.

    My father was a weak shell of a man chained to his parents like a Hebrew slave. He belted out his bitter pain by singing in Catskills talent contests, sounding like a broken motel room heater. The whole audience snickered at him, including us. My mother was no better, though. She slammed doors on all my boyfriends, went through all my drawers, opened all my mail, and eavesdropped on all my phone conversations. My brother ran around like Jerry Lewis with one pant leg longer than the other, begging my parents for advice.

    My three uncles sat in the kitchen without their dentures, moaning about blood pressure and asthma. When they ate , they emitted snorts and grunts not worthy of swine. They grabbed at food in a completely crass fashion. They gobbled with their mouths open, yapping while chewing. Pieces of grub got spit out and landed on the tablecloth in crude lumps. Gravy dribbled from their jowls down onto their pants in one ugly stream. When they finished, the slobs would lift their plates and lick them clean.

    Then, out of nowhere, these demented sons of Abraham would throw knickknacks off the mantlepiece, scream until the veins on their knecks popped out, and tear open their shirts in self-pitying agony. The relatives were just as bad. These two faced gossips would drop by uninvited, poking their big noses up my ass to uncover my darkest secrets. They all looked the same: potato-shaped bodies, wrinkled grimaces of pain, and stooped posture. Their physiques were molded in the same depressed shape as their emotions.

    And then came the moment that they had spent their lives rehearsing for: death. Cancer finally struck my mother. It didn't take the old man long to marry a Russian battle axe fresh off the boat. She's his fat little bubeleh. She loves to hear him kvetch. She loves to take his money. I guess papa found a new family, one more Jewish than me. I fantasize about dressing up as an SS Officer and visiting him on passover to slaughter him like the sacrificial lamb he always dreamed of being. I'll force feed him my shit like it's a matzoh dumpling!

    My Jewish family is thankfully almost all dead now. Unfortunately, they had the last laugh. They succeeded in making me miserable. That cloud of gloom hangs over me like nuclear winter. I seldom smile. It takes a lot to make me laugh. I'm in a constant state of apprehension. I focus on the negative. If twenty good things happen, I'll dwell on one mishap. I expect to hear only bad news. I can't handle crisis situations. I look for the worst in people and I easily find it. When someone sends me a greeting card, I'll turn it over to check the price. I'm always counting my money. People tell me that I look sad, as if something devastating happened. I wear three thousand years of persecution on my face. Just by being around these nerve wracking mental leeches and their maddening behavior, an invisible star of david has been branded on my forehead.

    I wish my family had lived next to the Hitlers. At least the Nazis knew how to dress and turn their anger outward. I wish there was a perfume I could sprinkle on myself the mask the hebraic stench. I even have a name for it: Final Solution. But the oppressive smell won't go away until I'm stone-cold dead, a lifeless Jewess in my ow private Auschwitz.

    .

    I just bet I make jewr trigger-finger itch, Pastor Lindstedt. Want to hear me kvetch until you break out the P-38?
    .

    Well, since jew ask, yes, jew DO make my Aryan Genesis 3:15 trigger-finger itch, nigger-Humpin' yenta from Queens kike sow bitch.

    Why do jew ask?


    Hail Victory!!!

    Pastor Martin Luther Dzerzhinsky Lindstedt
    Church of Jesus Christ Christian/Aryan Nations of Missouri
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum



  3. #3
    Ingelded's Avatar
    Ingelded is offline Allegedly Stephen Brower Greekling mamzer faggot Member Ingelded has a little shameless behaviour in the past
    Join Date
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    12

    Default My shitskin mamzer faggot ass is all butt-hurt over jewr Aryan viciousness.

    My shitskin mamzer faggot ass is all butt-hurt over jewr Aryan viciousness.

    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...514#post347514
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6137#post6137

    Using people's accounts to utterly fabricate posts.

    Intrepid/Ingelded/Blightho/BabyFaggot
    Admittedly Stephen Brower, Poseur Mamzer Faggot




    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoHVS...layer_embedded
    No Talent, Not Heterosexual, Not White, Cumpleate Poseur


  4. #4
    Join Date
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    Granby, State of Missery, ZOG
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    Default An Aryan DSCI pastor needs a shitskin mamzer faggot as much as a fish needs a bicycle.

    An Aryan DSCI pastor needs a shitskin mamzer faggot as much as a fish needs a bicycle.


    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...532#post347532
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6140#post6140


    Quote Originally Posted by Intrepid/Ingelded/Stevie Bukkake View Post
    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...514#post347514

    My shitskin mamzer faggot ass is all butt-hurt over jewr Aryan viciousness.

    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...514#post347514
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6137#post6137

    Using people's accounts to utterly fabricate posts. :disagree:
    .

    Well, "Intrepid"/Ingelded/Stevie Bukkake, itz not as if you are what you pretend to be.

    All I'm doing over here on my own sub-forum is simply taking posts by the misbegotten critters that wandered in here 'thinking' that I had to put up with theyz' shit and changing it about to give such proper identifuckation.

    Over on Da Queer/Mamzer-Barrell you jews and mamzers and faggots got to run wild because A-Paco-leeze being a drunken 'Lamanite' quarter-beaner let you misbegotten filth run wild in a subforum supposed to belong to myself. When pressed upon it, Rustifer Usually Swallows Anyone But A-Paco-leeze the beaner cougaress gave me an 'agreement' that I couldn't deal likewise with trespassing shitskin jewboy and mamzer faggot offal like jewrself and Puto Zimmer-mamzer. And so I stopped posting and you non-white fuktards pretending to be whigger got to chimp out at my expense and now it is the domain of melungeon pisser-possums and delusional mumps-nutted petty criminals playing ZOGbot CI. jewrself got me banned for telling the truth via hyperlink in the MamzerBarrell Shit-Box and since then I've been jewlagged.

    No problem. Unlike most of the Circle of Crust I don't need to maintain spies on what is just a mamzer shithole of not any real importance.

    Now Ingelded, I could fuck with jewr posts, but as I look at it, why bother? jew're a cowardly worthless shitskin mamzer faggot pretending to be whigger who I know exactly pretty much everything necessary to know. The only use I have for you is to see what fellow unclean foul birds of like measure surround jewrself. Anyone or anything willing to have something to do with jewrself is suspect -- or known. So why should I bother with a perfectly good jewdass mamzer?

    I've gotten assurances that if jewrself or nigger-Humpin' yenta misbehave then jew'll be gone over here. What is to be done over at Da MamzerBarrell is to remain over at Da MamzerBarrell. You annoy me too much I can lower the boom on jewrself because you are not only living a lie in the virtual world, but in real life as well.

    I think we understand each other perfectly. I'm working towards a world in which not another single White child is stolen bought or sold or hurt, in which White men only get to live in a White world. A world which will have absolutely no place for a shitskin mamzer faggot like jewrself or nigger-Humpin' yenta. No jews, no niggers, no mamzers, no whiggers. Every single one of them gone.

    So since we understand each other perfectly with a Genesis 3:15 understanding Ingelded, you can lay off the shitskin mamzer faggot guilt trip on myself. An Aryan Dual-Seedline Christian Identity pastor needs a shitskin mamzer faggot as much as a fish needs a bicycle.

    Well, that's how the cow will eat the cabbage. You have a problem with that then feel free to 'chomp down' on the beaner poolboy when it cum-cums over to Casa Ingelded in LA.


    Hail Victory!!!

    Pastor Martin Luther Dzerzhinsky Lindstedt
    Church of Jesus Christ Christian/Aryan Nations of Missouri
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum



  5. #5
    Join Date
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    Default Sub-forum federalism

    Sub-forum federalism


    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...970#post347970
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=6150#post6150


    Quote Originally Posted by Zed View Post
    http://stumbleinn.net/forum/showthre...359#post347359

    Martin, you have made some interesting suggestions which the staff here will have to think about and discuss. As far as Nigger-humping Yenta is concerned despite her accent I'm not completely convinced that she is a yenta. The thing is that Typical Irish Behaviour has a lot of similarities to Typical Jewish Behaviour and I think it's possible that you may be mistaken about her. Excessive aggression, melancholy, emotionalism, blarney and a sense of grievance are some of the faults of the Irish. These can easily give the impression of TJB. Having said that you do have a legitimate complaint about the libel and I apologize for our laxness in enforcing our own rules. I took SWB out behind the woodshed and the experience was not unlike washing a cat. After all the hissing and spitting and caterwauling was done, I think she got the message that such behaviour will not be tolerated around here. If it happens again, then sanctions will be imposed. For now, I'm going to impose the sentence you suggested, 10 days ban, from your sub-forum as a gesture of good faith so you will know that I'm not just blowing smoke and we are serious about this issue.
    .

    I meant to write about this matter earlier, but "Street Walking Barbie/nigger-humpin' yenta took matters into itz own snout and like all such vile creatures didn't act against her biggest enemy but rather decided to go against one of her numerous former friends. This evil nothing rather run off to Da Queer/Mamzer-Barrell, where I seen a post to where itz fellow mamzers and jews are 'stickniggering' it while itz down. All this is as it should be. Over on Da MamzerBarrell these misbegotten abominations act like in Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park II: The Lost World in which sick and dying predators, parasites and scavengers will savage and sodomize one of theyz' own when the former top predator is down. Also, many is the time when if you will only keep up a steady pressure the garbage will take itz own self out.

    Not being English, I think that this vicious critter was a kikess instead of a hyberniggress, but that is neither here nor there. It was telling this vicious sub-animal that it had to behave to some minimum criteria which sent it over the edge to where it committed virtual suicide. I like to think I had a part in itz virtual self-termination over here.
    .
    .

    What I have noticed is that StumbleInn, as well as a number of other forums, has slowed down quite a bit in the past few years. Much of that reason is because talented writers have taken themselves and their audiences to the moderated WordPress blog and left much of the communications behind in the places that they used to post. This is normal and to be expected.

    What I am going to suggest is that we bring back as a sort of amnesty those former posters -- specifically Appollonion and maybe Kane -- who have not violated any real rules of this forum other than being tedious tards. I most certainly do not believe in letting them run wild. Rather, in likening StumbleInn to being a nursing home I have said that perhaps we need to bring back the animals and the clowns and confine them to their respective cages, one-ring circuses, jewlags and tard corrals. Having my own forum I know that it is possible to take a user and establish special parameters in which this poster can only see -- and respond to -- certain areas. In their own area, I'd support giving them limited moderator powers, maybe.

    The past history of StumbleInn in which pretty much everyone knew and respected the written and unwritten understandings of behavior is pretty much gone. Rather, what I think should be done is in 'federalism' in which there are common areas and there are virtual 'homelands' which are largely self-governing by those who want to go there. By all means, keep the current format of largely common areas in which some of us don't bother to go there, but I think that the time has arrived again in which we bring back entertaining tards of old to cavort in their sovereign limited tard corrals.


    Hail Victory!!!

    Pastor Martin Luther Dzerzhinsky Lindstedt
    Church of Jesus Christ Christian/Aryan Nations of Missouri
    http://whitenationalist.org/forum


    Last edited by PastorLindstedt; 07-03-2012 at 06:43 PM.

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