Dear HNIC Boys


CONGRESSMAN'S NOTE:
Race doesn't matter. 

I am the HNIC boy.

Not you. I don't need to be black to be the HNIC. 

Black Girls:

You are hot. I have had a few hella-awesome hookups with black girls.

Boys of all colors can't beat me at anything I want to win.

Black boys think that because I am white and jovial to girls that I am moveable. Makeable. No. I am not. Not past my legal requirement to do what a train conductor tells me. WITHIN REASON.

Example. Cocksucker boy conductor just told me I "have" to was his tone, put my jacket and hat with my name on it in the overhead bin.

It ain't there now. It's not on the seat but it's not in the bin either. It's under my seat, sorta. 

And he saw, definitely that I wasn't going to put it there despite his order. And since when can't I have whatever I want in the seat next to me?

That I may ask him as I walk past him getting off in D.C.

My first idea, that I rejected, was to tell him if he didn't get his Yankee blue uniform out of my face (cop/pig behavior) I would throw him off the train.

I felt the growl rising up in me. And it's still there. Except there are a lot of girls around and I don't want to have a boys fight. Despite the enjoyment I would get from throwing him, off the train.

Or doing some other illegal activity that would render him... unable to vote for me.

Yet I still want revenge, female reader, before he sees the last of me. He used his authority to push me around. I DON'T LIKE BOYS PUSHING ME AROUND. Since I don't have a good excuse to kill him, somehow or other he is going to know that he is not better than me, in any of the ways you, Mademoiselle, would like. 



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