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‘Instant Justice, Sir!’
Boomy, Hero Cabbie of Harm City, Speaks of Civilizing America Along Tribal Lines


How are you, Sir?

[Shakes hands, two-handed with the author]

I have missed you and every time I come to shop and I do not see you, I say to myself, “Where is my friend? I hope the niggers have not gotten him. Are you well, Sir?”

[The author explains that he has been taking extra days off to write.]

[Boomy comes closer and speaks in a low tone of grave concern.]

Sir, I trust you no longer live down in the city with those savage niggers.

[The author answers in the affirmative.]

Sir, I have to hand it to you—like Gordon at Kartoum, you are! But be careful—courage is not enough with these savages, one must be wary—I really do worry about you. I do not jest on this point [holds hand to heart].

Sir, you will not believe what I saw on Sunday evening at eight o’clock at Baltimore and Light. A white man was walking along in his suit and tie, his computer bag over his shoulder, reading from his smart phone. And don’t you know this spry-footed nigger snaps that phone and runs off and the white man is running after him with his finger pointed in the air, saying, “Hey, hey, that’s my phone,” as if the nigger did not know it was his phone. And don’t you know that all of the people on the street ignored his plight, did nothing for him. I would have helped him, but I had a woman in the cab and white women are priority fares—one spares no pains in getting the white lady safely where she is headed. That is the mother of civilization and you honor her.

I drive tourists from the airport to the hotel all night long. Last night one says to me, “Is it is bad as they say? Can I get out and walk around?”

I tell him, “Sir, I do not wish to see you dead along the side of the road like an animal. You must stay in the hotel after dark—at all times!”

The night before last—indeed, the night the nigger ran off with the white man’s phone—a little Chinese woman wants to know if it is safe to walk about. And, Sir, I lay it down for her: “It is safe to go to the pool, that is in your hotel. It is safe to go to the gym, that is in your hotel. It is safe to go to the restaurant, that is in your hotel. It is safe to go to the bar—that is in your hotel! You must not leave the hotel, madam, it is dangerous on these streets. They hunt people for sport, I tell you.”

Now, Sir, may I suggest a solution for your troubled country?

We know, in Nigeria, that we must protect our white people if we are to maintain our civilization. That occurrence with the smart phone would not be tolerated in my country. Thirty of us would have run that nigger down and beat him to the very inch of his life. In Nigeria there is instant justice for thieves—particularly those who prey upon whites. You rob a white man, we pick up a tire from the side of the road, put it around the thief’s neck, douse him with gasoline and light him up—Instant Justice, Nigerian style. I do not jest. Look it up on YouTube.

Now you take care down there in the jungle, and remember Instant Justice, Sir!

War Drums: Forty Miles from The Big House

https://www.amazon.com/War-Drums-Forty-Miles-House/dp/1514394758/ref=sr_1_27?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1469641326&sr=1-27&keywords=james+lafond

http://jameslafond.blogspot.com/

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PRMay 16, 2017 10:30 PM UTC

If I ever learn his real name, I'll write him in for president. Pat Buchanan is too old for me to write him in again.