tweakstick
11-30-2020, 10:18 AM
This is just gross. I'm just warning you all up front. You may need brain bleach.
Whilst perusing the forums earlier, I read Diva's report on the "Peepo's Coat" case about the fecal nigger trailer trash and for some reason it jogged my memory about something that I guess I managed to put out of my memory for three decades now. I wish it had stayed gone.
Mrs. Tweak and I had just transferred down here from a now BRAC'd, dead and bulldozed Naval Air Station north of Shitcongo. As glad as we were to see it get smaller in the rear view, we would find that Nig Orleans was a lateral move at best.
We were not yet ready to buy a house and wanted to get to know the area before we committed so we decided to take a six month lease with an opt out clause for military orders to base housing since I knew the inside tricks of how to get out of a lease with orders. I had to do the shopping by myself and leave Mrs. Tweak and junior at her mom's place until I found a house while living in the barracks for a couple of weeks.
I refused to ever live in an apartment again after living in base housing. I don't recommend it to anyone. It's even worse than living in an apartment for so many reasons but the worst is that niggers (and even some humans) like to bring their rank home with them. I also got tired of neighbors knowing every time I flushed a damn toilet or logged some flight hour stick time with Mrs. Tweak. I opted instead to find a single house for rent.
I sought out a leasing agent who took me around to several houses - privately owned but managed by her RE office. They all appeared to be in decent middle class neighborhoods. While she drove me around in her car, she quite flippantly and out of the blue told me that she kept a .357 under her driver's seat and told me that everyone carries one down here. She explained that in this state, your car is considered an extension of your home and it was therefore perfectly legal. Nice to know but she also basically told me that I needed to watch out for niggers. I didn't know until then that while there are places you definitely don't go, there is no such thing as "across the tracks" in this state for the most part. A quarter mil house might be a stone's throw from a shotgun house. That's just the way it is down here in older neighborhoods that aren't gated.
Once we arrived at the last property, as I wandered around the house, she proceeded to tell me about the former occupants describing the following bizarre events:
The former tenant was a USAF Airman First Class who lived there with her boyfriend. It seemed that they skipped out of the house and left everything including two months unpaid rent. When she showed up with the keys to let the cleaning crew in, they had to move the bed away from the window to locate what they assumed by the smell to be a dead animal. When they did, they found the remains of an approximately 6 month gestated fetus, placenta still attached, covered in maggots and in a semi dried bloody pool of a mess. Given the drag marks left, they actually moved the bed to the other side of the room to cover it up.
Lucky for me, the cleaning crew did a good job of cleaning up the bio-hazard mess. Had I smelled it, I probably would have puked on her. I had just spent the last six months or so of my last station walking past 6 triwall boxes full of airplane wreckage that not only did I have to help clean up, but had to step around for the next six fucking months. Seemed the NTSB had decided to park it just outside the door to my shop in the hangar where I worked until the investigation was completed. I had to walk past it every---fucking---day. Until I die, I will never forget the acrid stench of burned airplane parts, JP fuel and rotting remains of my fellow sailors. Thanks, fuckers. I still wake up smelling that shit from time to time.
But I digress...
She called the police and the coroner met her there. He told her that by all appearances, the woman had given birth to a stillborn. Rather than dealing with the problem, they simply left.
I was shocked and in utter disbelief that a fellow member of the military would behave like this but she assured me that this was exactly what happened and that she followed up by calling the girl's command and informed them of the incident. They were none to happy about it and the girl ended up getting kicked out of the Air Force because of it.
While the agent was relating these events to me, I was standing dumbfounded in the garage - jaw agape. As I looked around, I noticed that the garage was the only part of the house that wasn't cleaned out. There was an odd collection of shit in there, most of which you might expect to find from anyone's garage who missed a spring cleaning. There were Mardi Gras beads and various throws, a parking meter, busted bumper, lights, tires, rims and other car parts, boxes of clothing, shoes, empty liquor bottles etc.
A closer look revealed the truth. The beads and throws were all from the Crewe of Zulu (a nigger parade crewe), the meter was run over by the tires and gold rims which still had pieces of the meter pole stuck in them, the bottles were Courvoisier and the clothing and shoes were all ridiculous looking garb.
That's when it all clicked.
Niggers.
The shit that niggers do never ceases to amaze me.
Whilst perusing the forums earlier, I read Diva's report on the "Peepo's Coat" case about the fecal nigger trailer trash and for some reason it jogged my memory about something that I guess I managed to put out of my memory for three decades now. I wish it had stayed gone.
Mrs. Tweak and I had just transferred down here from a now BRAC'd, dead and bulldozed Naval Air Station north of Shitcongo. As glad as we were to see it get smaller in the rear view, we would find that Nig Orleans was a lateral move at best.
We were not yet ready to buy a house and wanted to get to know the area before we committed so we decided to take a six month lease with an opt out clause for military orders to base housing since I knew the inside tricks of how to get out of a lease with orders. I had to do the shopping by myself and leave Mrs. Tweak and junior at her mom's place until I found a house while living in the barracks for a couple of weeks.
I refused to ever live in an apartment again after living in base housing. I don't recommend it to anyone. It's even worse than living in an apartment for so many reasons but the worst is that niggers (and even some humans) like to bring their rank home with them. I also got tired of neighbors knowing every time I flushed a damn toilet or logged some flight hour stick time with Mrs. Tweak. I opted instead to find a single house for rent.
I sought out a leasing agent who took me around to several houses - privately owned but managed by her RE office. They all appeared to be in decent middle class neighborhoods. While she drove me around in her car, she quite flippantly and out of the blue told me that she kept a .357 under her driver's seat and told me that everyone carries one down here. She explained that in this state, your car is considered an extension of your home and it was therefore perfectly legal. Nice to know but she also basically told me that I needed to watch out for niggers. I didn't know until then that while there are places you definitely don't go, there is no such thing as "across the tracks" in this state for the most part. A quarter mil house might be a stone's throw from a shotgun house. That's just the way it is down here in older neighborhoods that aren't gated.
Once we arrived at the last property, as I wandered around the house, she proceeded to tell me about the former occupants describing the following bizarre events:
The former tenant was a USAF Airman First Class who lived there with her boyfriend. It seemed that they skipped out of the house and left everything including two months unpaid rent. When she showed up with the keys to let the cleaning crew in, they had to move the bed away from the window to locate what they assumed by the smell to be a dead animal. When they did, they found the remains of an approximately 6 month gestated fetus, placenta still attached, covered in maggots and in a semi dried bloody pool of a mess. Given the drag marks left, they actually moved the bed to the other side of the room to cover it up.
Lucky for me, the cleaning crew did a good job of cleaning up the bio-hazard mess. Had I smelled it, I probably would have puked on her. I had just spent the last six months or so of my last station walking past 6 triwall boxes full of airplane wreckage that not only did I have to help clean up, but had to step around for the next six fucking months. Seemed the NTSB had decided to park it just outside the door to my shop in the hangar where I worked until the investigation was completed. I had to walk past it every---fucking---day. Until I die, I will never forget the acrid stench of burned airplane parts, JP fuel and rotting remains of my fellow sailors. Thanks, fuckers. I still wake up smelling that shit from time to time.
But I digress...
She called the police and the coroner met her there. He told her that by all appearances, the woman had given birth to a stillborn. Rather than dealing with the problem, they simply left.
I was shocked and in utter disbelief that a fellow member of the military would behave like this but she assured me that this was exactly what happened and that she followed up by calling the girl's command and informed them of the incident. They were none to happy about it and the girl ended up getting kicked out of the Air Force because of it.
While the agent was relating these events to me, I was standing dumbfounded in the garage - jaw agape. As I looked around, I noticed that the garage was the only part of the house that wasn't cleaned out. There was an odd collection of shit in there, most of which you might expect to find from anyone's garage who missed a spring cleaning. There were Mardi Gras beads and various throws, a parking meter, busted bumper, lights, tires, rims and other car parts, boxes of clothing, shoes, empty liquor bottles etc.
A closer look revealed the truth. The beads and throws were all from the Crewe of Zulu (a nigger parade crewe), the meter was run over by the tires and gold rims which still had pieces of the meter pole stuck in them, the bottles were Courvoisier and the clothing and shoes were all ridiculous looking garb.
That's when it all clicked.
Niggers.
The shit that niggers do never ceases to amaze me.