Les blanches exotiques
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The proud English peoples—who started building up their society on an island off the coast of France—have over 52 words for “poop”. The concept must be very important to them if they have so many words—poop, shit, crap, dung, caca, fæces, poo, shite, doodoo, doody, poopy, guano, excrement, turd, scat, stool, manure and muck being some of the more important ones.
They even have adapted proverbs and honorific titles around the idea. Among others, these include:
- No shit, Sherlock.
- Shithead
- Little Shit
- Holy Shit
- Holy Crap
- You’ve got to be shitting me.
- I will shit on everything you love.
- Poopdeck
- You listen to some shitty/crappy music
- He who lives on hope, dies on shit.
- Shit’s goin’ down.
- Does a bear shit in the woods?
- Don’t poop in a field and don’t talk in a forest.
- It’s just a bunch of crap.
The English are an odd, exotic people who care so much about shit, their lives revolve around it.
(via waverindarkness)
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The Exotic Murrikans and their Relationship with Names
Tonight the exotic white Murrikan phenomenon of making fun of the names of normal people has come to our attention.
We have studied this phenomenon extensively, and there are various reasons why the exotics are so rude and disrespectful to make jest of the gorgeous names of the normal people.
Reason 1: The exotic whites are lacking lips.This affects their lives in many ways, from kissing to pronouncing certain words. Because of this, they often have trouble pronouncing the names of PoC. Instead of admitting this, however, they instead hide their insecurity over their liplessness behind a veneer of disrespect and rudeness, lashing out at those who possess the names that escape them.
Reason 2: The exotic Murrikans live in a society in which they are as separate as they possibly can be from other cultures, even other exotic peoples. Therefore, if they come across a PoC with a name that, to them, sounds “foreign” (even if the name is in the language that another exotic white tribe speaks) they will mock them, as they will assume that the name is made up. However, this only applies when the name belongs to a PoC; if the person with the “foreign” sounding name is also an exotic white, the exotics will strive as hard as they can, working against their liplessness, in order to pronounce the name correctly.
It’s a very sad phenomenon, and the exotic whites will do this to PoC no matter their age; whether they are 9 or 99, if their name is not a syllable long and boring, they will be mocked for it.
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Re: the Vye Yuh Linn submission; this is another case of exotic white people stealing instruments that don’t actually belong to them. It’s believed that Vye Yuh Linns are crudely adapted from from similar instruments that emerged on the Asian steppes, played by Turk and Mongol tribes (China, today, has a more sophisticated and beautiful instrument, the erhu, that is of similar descent; there is likewise an Arabic instrument called the rabab). You can find them in China, Japan, and India; in India, especially, they’re used for normal Karnāṭaka and Hindustani music.
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“If you can’t handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best” — ancient exotic white proverb -
(demaney asked: exotic whites started wearing denim pants during the ‘gold rush,’ when many of them migrated west in search of gold they didn’t have to steal from normal people. The majority of exotics wear these pants still as a symbol of how important greed and wealth is in their culture. At least that’s what my one-twelfth exotic friend told me, and she’s descended from a yurupeen princess!)
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I am an exotic white in the southern hemisphere; specifically Australia (Oz-tray-lee-ah). I ave found that while some of our customs are the same as our Murrikan brothers and sisters, some are quite different, such as the celebration of Thanksgiving and their highest of Holy Days: Black Friday. As an expert on Murrikan exotics, could you suggest a reason for this cultural gap? The blessings of Princess be with you.
Well, you must look back into the history of the exotic Murrikans.
When they first came to the land that they would later exploit, they were hungry, tired, and unaware of the fact that drinking shitwater was bad for their health.
When they came here they were taught that you shouldn’t shit in the water that you drink, and other valuable lessons, such as what soap was and how to grow food.
Alas, the exotics were an ungrateful people, and when the Natives fell ill because of the diseases the shitdrinkers brought, the exotics attacked. They destroyed the Natives, burned the land, and came up with a policy of always lying about history. To this day, the exotics lie and say that they are a peaceful people while raining death upon populations of PoC.
This is why Thanksgiving came around, yet another stage in the exotics plan of erasing history.
Black Friday is just the day when everyone goes shopping, in order to pay homage to the great god Capitalism.
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Hey. Love your blog. I’ve always wanted to play this really exotic instrument called the “Vye Uh Linn.” It looks really nice and it feels like I’m in Yoorupp whenever I hear it play, like I can connect with the exotic whites in a way I once never thought possible. I’m obsessed with listening to the recordings of famous Vye Uh Linn players such as Jahshwa Bel (such a cool name! I think I’ll name my cat after him) and Hilury Hann. There are even some famous Vye Uh Linn players who are not exotic whites, like Sarah Chang (even though she grew up in an exotic white country).
Anyways, I was wondering where I could find this exotic white instrument (the name is too complicated for me to keep typing it). I hear they’re difficult to find outside of white countries, so I was wondering if you knew any stores or white culture conventions in civilized countries where I can find them. Thank you!
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Y’all got less than 24 hours before the inbox/submissions are closed and EWG goes on hiatus
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One of the most revered and highly celebrated exotic holiday, Christmas, is tomorrow.
This holiday is the major holiday celebrating the god Capitalism. It is looked forward to and prepared for all year round; the exotics constantly make mental lists full of the material goods that they wish to be bought for them in the name of Capitalism. Before the shine and glimmer has worn off of their Christmas presents they are thinking of the newer, better things they will get next Christmas.
Starting in October, stores start advertising for this sacred holiday, putting out decorations and tacky wrapping paper covered in the likeness of Santa Claus, one of the manifestations of the spirit of Capitalism.
Children are taught that Santa is the one who gets them presents and does the hard work of delivering these toys to them. In all actuality, it is the parents working behind the scenes to purchase these gifts, and the various normal people working in abysmal conditions in order to make the toys that the parents purchase. This is a reflection upon the exotic Murrikan society; those who work behind the scenes, doing the dirtiest, most dangerous jobs that are overlooked, all credit being given to figureheads.
As time progresses, there are more and more reminders of the holiday, and people feel compelled to buy things for people they barely like, in order to satisfy the great god Capitalism. (One of the more barbaric holidays occurs in this time period, Black Friday. We have already explained this holiday here.)
As the day comes closer and closer, people become more and more frantic to be as cheerful as they can, as Capitalism demands that they smile as they spend their hard-earned money on things they barely want and definitely don’t need. The forced cheerfulness leads to spending money on “holiday-themed” delicacies, drinks and foods that are disgusting but are continually purchased, year after year, only to be thrown away in disgust after a few obligatory sips or bites.
Finally, Christmas Day comes around. Children run downstairs early in the morning, eager to see what Santa has brought them. Adults trudge behind them, tired and disillusioned, hoping that their children will appreciate their hard work, their ultimate sacrifice to their always-hungry god, knowing that they won’t. Gifts are opened, appreciation is feigned, and disappointment is hidden. By afternoon the children are cruising on a sugar high, playing with the boxes that kept their expensive toys safe; the teenagers are ranting about how much their parents must hate them for getting them the wrong color iphone; the adults watch everything with dull eyes, knowing that they have pleased their god and already planning for the next years celebration and ultimate sacrifice.
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Hello followers.
I have thought about this for quite some time, and I have decided that starting December 26, EWG will be going on an indefinite hiatus.
I’m sure you have questions.
I have answers to what you will most likely be asked most frequently.
Why is EWG going on hiatus?
I suffer from depression, and lately it has been difficult for me to think and create as much as I would like. I’m also the only mod, and I feel uncomfortable relinquishing control of EWG to someone else.
Will EWG be gone forever?
No! EWG will probably be back in the spring. We will rise from our slumber when the land turns warm and the sun returns.
Are you deleting all your content?
Nope! The content will still be there; I’m merely shutting off submissions and the ask box at midnight on the 26th.
Where will we go for your snark and wittiness?
Well, there’s always my personal blog, where you can watch me rant, share in my Doctor Who feels, be occasionally snarky and witty, and see my face.
I’m also co-modding a sex blog, which you should follow anyway because it’s fantastic.
Can we still ask/submit things?
Up until midnight on the 26th, I’ll be accepting asks and submissions, and they will be queued.
Finally, I absolutely loved modding this blog. You are all fantastic, smart, brilliant people, and I adore all of you.
You have sent me messages that have made me laugh, and some that have been so touching that I’ve cried. This has been wonderful.
In the words of a man very near and dear to my heart: You were fantastic, absolutely fantastic. And do you know what? So was I.
We’ll be back someday.
