Before we begin, we want to make it clear that the enclosed references to “white people” do not literally mean all white people. While I’m sure you are aware that humor is built on the generalization of truths, and intelligent people know that nothing in the universe is 100 percent, there is a distinct subset of people whose egos and privilege have gone unchecked for so long that they apparently think every article is a personal note speaking directly to or about them.
One of the greatest joys in the lives of people of color comes from our observation of the addictively interesting phenomenon known as “white-people shit,” known in the Southern part of the United States as “white-folks shit” and in Caucasian circles as “Seems like a fun idea.”
While earning my advanced degree in wypipology, I discovered that since the days of cavemen, humans have needed intermittent doses of adrenaline. But because there are no more saber-toothed tigers leaping out of jungle shrubbery, white people no longer get to feel the heart-racing thrill of danger and excitement on a regular basis.
People of color don’t have to worry about this problem. We get our doses of adrenaline in other ways. You don’t need to bungee jump in order to feel that telltale pap-pap in your chest when you have to worry about fugitive-slave hunters. Black people don’t spend time learning how to BASE jump off skyscrapers in flying-squirrel suits, partly because flashing blue lights make our hearts race at the same speed as we wonder if this is the time we will be shot in the face. Or back. That’s why you don’t read about black guys having to saw their arms off with a rusty can opener after getting stuck while rock climbing.
But since people of color get so much joy out of learning about white-people shit, we thought we’d give you a quick roundup to brighten your week:
NBC reports that in 1990, someone rang the doorbell at a Wellington, Fla., home. When Marlene Warren answered the door, a clown was standing there holding balloons. When Marlene took the balloons, the clown had another surprise for her: a bullet with her name on it. The clown shot her, ending Warren’s life.
Cops immediately suspected Marlene’s husband, Michael Warren, who owned a car-rental agency. When law-enforcement officers investigated, they found no evidence of his involvement in the murder. They did, however, find evidence of odometer tampering, racketeering and grand theft. They charged him and he spent three years in prison. Then, in 1997, Michael Warren disappeared.
Cut to 2002, when authorities found out that Michael Warren had married Sheila Keen, the woman whom Michael had been having an affair with when his wife died. They built a case and finally arrested Sheila Keen Warren on Tuesday, charging her with first-degree murder with the use of a firearm.
Why this classifies as white-people shit: According to a study by the Federal University of Caucasian Crimes, 63 percent of all white-folks shit takes place in Florida. The study also reveals that 99.039 percent of crimes involving clowns are committed by nonminorities. In controlled experiments, when a clown rings a black person’s doorbell, the response is usually a variation of “Leave that shit at the door, homey! I don’t fuck with clowns like that.”
Men’s Health reports that two separate women have opened businesses offering critiques of men’s penises for the low price of $20 per review.
Eevie Bellini started her business online. Men send her pictures of their penises, and she writes a three-paragraph review and sends it to them. For an extra $10, the “Banana Butcher,” as she is known, will make a custom video offering her breakdown of the length, girth, grooming and veins of a penis.
Bellini says her business has allowed her to pay off her student loans, and her main competitor says that honest critiques of male parts is a lucrative business because it gives them more confidence.
“I think most guys are looking for an honest opinion, since it’s not generally something they get a chance to hear in everyday life,” says the woman, who calls herself “Schoolgirlsubslut” online. “I suppose it does offer guys some confidence in themselves, since porn is so overwhelmingly flooded with ridiculously enormous dicks that it can be hard to discern whether you are, in fact, normal.”
Why this classifies as white-people shit: You know why. Don’t play. Many women say they receive unsolicited dick pics all the time, but only the capitalistic mind of a white person would think of a way to make money from being judgmental about penises. Plus, a black-owned penis business would quickly shut down because dudes would repeatedly ask, “Instead of a $20 email or $30 pic, can you just send me a quick text message with the thumbs-up or thumbs-down emoji for $17.39?”
Plus, where do you go to school to study schlongs? Is it an associate’s program or an advanced degree? I know there’s no HBCU (historically black cock university) because I’ve been around thousands of black mothers and have never heard one of them brag, “You know my daughter Tasha is at Southern State studying dicks.”
KUSA in Denver reported on Monday that a woman recently found a huge scratch on her car as she was leaving work. Mandi Shepard says that she didn’t see anyone around and didn’t notice a note on her windshield, so she just drove home.
Halfway home, she noticed that her side-view mirror had been adjusted and had an envelope attached to it. Shepard looked in the envelope, and it contained a note apologizing for the damage, $40 and a half-smoked marijuana joint.
“I was laughing so hard on the way home that somebody took the time to leave me a note and leave me money and half a joint,” said Shepard, who explained that she will use the money to see if she can buff out the scratch.
Why this classifies as white-people shit: Her name is Mandi with an “i.” In Wypipo History 201, my professor taught us that the replacement of the “y” with “i” dates back to ancient Mesopotamia, where the Sumerians discovered a village of people with blond hair and very low IQs who spoke in a language of gibberish. They referred to them as the TomiLahrenians.
Plus, who gives up weed? Also, neither Mandi nor the writer of the original story had the journalistic integrity to tell us whether the weed was any good or not.
I bet Mandi dots her “i” with a heart.