Bang bang bang! I’ve come under great fire during this past week for voicing of my opinion on the state of the world. Well, surprise surprise, this is a long time coming. Simply because I did not voice my opinions during the 2016 campaign does not mean that I agreed with the minority (aka the ones who voted for Crooked Hillary and lost the election).

Specifically, in this past week since writing about these hot topics, I have been accused of being RACIST. Which is totally disgusting because I love all humans who are respectable, hard-working, and classy. It seems that black people are exempt from any notion of negative review by liberals simply because of their skin colour. God forbid that I dislike Obama and when I do my Tae Bo workouts and Billy Blanks (WHO IS BLACK) instructs for us to imagine elbowing someone in the face, I think first of Obama, then Michelle, then Crooked Hillary (who is white), then Anderson Cooper (white), then Nancy Pelosi (white), then Elizabeth Warren (Pocahontas), then that screaming Senator from California aka the leader of the Democratic Party Maxine Waters lol. Sure, Crooked, Anderson, and Pelosi are white, but nobody considers that fact. They only see that I am adverse to the black Democrats on this list of scrupulous humans.

Eloquent reader Inspector Gadget summarised my stance best in his or her comment to my article about cry baby Serena Williams:

Although people might disagree with your stances, this article is in no way Rascist. Come on, people.

Why does Serena get to have an outburst and it’s ok? Would you consider a white tennis player, who took similar actions, in the same way? Maybe you’re enforcing reverse discrimination. The person could be white, red, black, blue, or purple but if they displayed this abhorrent sportsmanship (or lack of it), they should suffer the same ridicule as anyone else. The end.

That said, I want to describe the one occasion in my life of where I did behave as racist, and it has stung me like a bee, since that time. If I could only remember the man’s name, then I would find him to apologise. I believe it was Tunundra, or something like that. It was first grade. 1988. He was very tall and chubby. And he was so so so so so so so nice to me. I remember sharing my lunch with him. And after lunch, this white girl with short brown hair approached me. Her name was Nicole Brown. I detested her. She told me that if I did not kick Tunundra and tell him that I hated him, then I would lose all of my friends, and she would tell my parents that I was friends with a black boy.

So I approached him at the cafeteria on the next day, pretending to offer a lunch sharing with him. And I rather kicked him in the shin. “I hate you,” I said.

I will never forget of how sad he looked. He didn’t fight back. He just accepted my kick and my verbal sentiment of hatred.

And I walked away.

I am so sorry for doing that. I was sorry on the minute that I saw his sad face.

Thirty years later, it still haunts me.

So for any of you who call me racist, you can kiss my Brazilian booty because I love all good rational people. And I love some liberals, too. Are you ready for my book? Clearly it’s not just about the eating disorder, but it’s about politics, aka the state of the world, too.