At the ripe, young age of twenty-one, I decided to marry and impregnate a White woman, to ensure the death of all my hopes and dreams, and that went well.
But now that I have a half-White child, fifty percent of the time we spend together is great. We give each other secret handshakes, spit watermelon seeds, and slather cocoa butter on each other’s arms, just as our forefathers had done before us. But the other fifty percent of the time, he’s a passive-aggressive prick.
Like, if he makes a mess of my house and I clean it up, all I get is my own house back. But if he picks up his own mess, I’m expected to pay him $20 a week in allowance. Now, that’s some White privilege shit, right there. So, every once in a while, I like to teach him an important lesson. What I do is sneak up behind in a ski mask, and jack that nigga’s allowance.
It’s an important life lesson, because if you exercise too much White privilege, sooner or later, an angry Black man might rob you.