SlutWalks Are Great For Snagging Fat White Sluts

Have you ever heard of Slutwalks? You gotta try it out man, especially if you like being around fat white sluts like I do. These dimes won’t admit it, but the truth is that Slutwalks are really just Fat-Acceptance opportunities spectacles disguised as feminist activism. But hey, you know I’m super down with that. They’ll try to say specifically that they’re protesting against this whole notion that provocative dress invites RAPISTS. When they talk, I just nod my head, “okay whatever baby, that makes sense.” Seriously, It isn’t like walking around in the hood with stacks of money hangin’ out your pocket invites muggers, cause that’s way different. 

Believe it or not I’ve attended a few of these Slutwalk marches because I love fat sluts sympathize with the core principle of their movement: Overweight white women shouldn’t feel ashamed of looking and acting like fat sluts, they should flaunt it! They should feel encouraged and empowered to let their beefy muffin-tops and cottage cheese asses sag freely and openly. That’s why they got my fucking support. Amen.

Not too long ago I was in Toronto for a SlutWalk march, and boy was I surprised at the sheer size, density, and thickness of all the fat Slutwalker buffalo-bitches stampeding through the city. I couldn’t wait to join the crowd.

slutwalknigel

I’m looking smooth like Morpheus from the Matrix. 

Luckily I brought my sunglasses with me, because I recognized many of the BBWs from Craigslist personal ads I had responded to in the past. Many of them were past bangs, and I didn’t want them to recognize me; damn It really is a small world after all. Anyway, as the march went on, the women started chanting and yelling louder and louder. All of the sudden the crowd of thick, sweaty bodies started to clump together all around me, squeezing me in. With all that these thick walls of soft flesh around, my boner got more and more stiff, which subsequently became harder to conceal. One BBW felt the tip of my junk on her trunk and turned around to see what it was, but I played it cool, pretending my hand was in my pocket.

It didn’t help that I kept bumping into her ass with my stiff cock: the jig was up. She gave me a funny look. I tried apologizing to her, “Baby, excuse me” but she snarled at me and turned away, releasing a rancid angry-fart out of spite. My boner got even harder. That’s when I knew I had to improvise a way to prevent another accidental bump with my junk, or else the whole crowd of Slutwalkers would turn on me. So I took the sign I had and held it over my crotch as a barrier. Then I unzipped my pants and let my cock hang loose while I stroked it like a ninja, or just some Secret Negro Agent 007 shit. Ultimately masturbating helped reduce my boner so I could act more normal. Despite having so many fat white bitches up close, squishing me in, I was busting all kinds of nuts with maximum stealth. Dozens in truth. It was a long march.

Lookin' like Morpheus from the Matrix.

She’s not even looking at me, but I’m looking at her.

As the march was coming to a close, I left early and headed for my food truck, then drove it up to the horde of hungry Slutwalkers. A long line of fine looking sluts formed at the side of my truck, with their eyes were lit. All the sudden I went from being a random black dude in a white-feminist-march to feeling like a hiphop star with white groupies. I was killing two birds with one stone. As I say, “Make some dough, bang some dough.” That’s my motto. I even had a special offer for big sluts that signed up for my free dessert membership plan — which was actually just a cleverly disguised sexual-consent form. Shout out to my lawyer!

In conclusion, when it comes to RAPE, BBWs secretly love rapists and stalkers. On top of that, since when does any woman consent with a “yes” for a pussy pounding? She can’t even say “yes” or “no”, just “mmmm mmmm” when she’s got that whole 9 inches of Nigel’s snicker bar rammed down her turkey-necked throat.

“baby my bad, you gonna need some honey lemon tea for that sore throat.”

Follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame

Fat women love stalkers and rapists.

I know what you’re thinkin’ homie, “what tha hell, you crazy Nigel?” Word, I gotcha, but hear me out son. Listen to this.

Have you ever hung out with some girls and the fattest one says, “hey, this guy keeps stalking me” or “this guy keeps grabbing my ass”? Do you ever turn on the news and the story of the night is that a woman got raped in the next county — they show her picture, and she’s a fat as fuck, 78 year old grandmother? What’s goin’ on here? Are rapist and stalkers really gettin’ together, conspiring to victimize fat bitches? Yeah right, and the tooth fairy flew into my bedroom one night and gave me a rimjob while I was asleep. Actually, the answer is a big fat fucking NO. These pussy ass wannabe rapists and stalkers couldn’t wrestle a hog in the mud, much less ride a wild buffalo. If anything, these rapists and stalkers are just jealous that they can’t handle a big woman. So why in the hell are these fatties screaming rape and accusing random men of stalking them?

Nigel has been thinking about this shit for a while.

I’ll tell you why, because big bitches want stalkers to rape them. It’s disgusting I know, but we live in a disgusting world, so you gotta man up to that challenge or fade out. Since most men out there aren’t making moves on fatties, these big women have got to invent their stalkers and degrading rape stories to tell their best friends forever. They don’t want to feel left out and less sought-after when their girlfriends get together and talk about dating and sex, so they tell tall tales — to boost their ego with lies rooted in their deepest sexual fantasies. Some of these bitches are so desperate they take their bullshit to the news stations; they need the whole world to know that they got gang raped and gagged with a twinkie. Bitch please, who you foolin’?

Yes it is! She isn’t just dreaming, she’s using a falsified signal as a means of begging for cock while simultaneously fattening her ego.

The truth: when fat women cry and complain that they got stalkers trying to rape them, it’s a signal that they aren’t getting any dick. They’re advertising their desperation by pretending and announcing that the total opposite is true. It’s that plain and simple. They want dick by any means necessary, even if it’s imaginary; but they want the real thing by force, they’re that fucking desperate. This bullshit is so bad that innocent brothers are getting locked away in the pen; so I’m doing my part to fix this problem, thank the Lord that I found a solution.

Captain save-a-hoe to the rescue. When I realized this shit, I put on a trench coat and went out telling fat bitches I was a detective. I told them I was looking for this known stalker who is also wanted for rape and on the run from the FBI. Each and every fat hoe I questioned immediately piped up said she was one of his victims, a victim of the exact same stalker/rapist I was looking for. Man, what a coincidence! I invited each one to my white van for further questioning to help with the investigation, they all agreed. Once I got them in the van, I told them to take off all their clothes so I can gather some DNA evidence. Clothes come off, I bend the bitch over, and made some new DNA evidence. Botta bing botta boom botta bang.

Now things didn’t always go down smoothly in the white van. Sometimes I’d get a hostile fattie telling me that she needs to see my badge and shit, and that she ain’t snitching unless I’m for real. This is when I ask her what the rapist looks like. As she’s giving me the description, I put on my ski mask and say, “did he look like this?” Then I whip out my cattle prod and tase the fuck out of her until her pussy glows in the dark, and proceed to harpoon her face with my chocolate yardstick. After the zap and tap session I dump her ass off in front of the homeless shelter so my buddies can finish her — I’m all about recycling — and by sharing that ass I protect myself legally. This is what I call forming an LLC (Limited Liability Cooperation) because the liability (blame) is spread out. I’m not the only rapist one involved. She won’t be able to remember and report all of us. Furthermore, the cops aren’t going to believe another epic rape story anyway.

 

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame