In addition to the piles of dirty clothing, he had amassed a sizable collection of empty gallon-sized water jugs which he refilled with his piss so that he wouldn't have to interrupt his autistic conspiracy-information consumption or his pornography watching, to use the bathroom. He hadn't figured out a way to take a shit in his bedroom yet, but he imagined that if these habits continued it wouldn't be long before he was catalyzed to get creative. The piss jugs were beginning to accumulate on his closet floor. Fifteen in total. He justified this by considering that the house's water supply ran off an electric pump and that if the Russians, Chinese or muslims were able to run a successful EMP or cyber attack on a local municipal electricity monopoly the fifteen or so gallons of piss would be a-ok to drink (piss being sterile and all) until he could figure out a way to acquire a more reliable drinking water source. So the obsessive compulsive piss hoarding was really just an aspect of his prep.

Later in the day, after he had consumed a sizable amount of information, rhetoric, and opinion, he made his way to the gym. After the muslim attacks in Paris he had begun to workout. He did spic-tier manual labor for a landscaping company so he was relatively in-shape, but his genetic predisposition was not favorable to being completely jacked. He looked more like a slightly underfed Vietnam-era, white-trash infantryman and when he was younger he had occasionally larped as exactly that. Thomas hoped that working out on a regular basis would increase his testosterone levels and that eventually this influx of male hormone would break him free of his zog-prescribed mind-control, the sort of mind control that regularly induced him to masturbate multiple times a day to strap-on, interracial, and femdom pornography.

After doing a chest regiment he left the gym and grabbed a fresh jug of water from the local WaWa. He knew that this type of bottled water was no less likely to contain fluoride or estrogen mimickers, but he concluded that it was probably still more pure than tap water or the sulfur-laden well water at the house. He noticed the nogs working in the deli. He was finally beginning to see them for what they really were: low-IQ, aggressive welfare queens. They were all leeches on society, even the ones who worked. It was important to begin to make the transition from the state-induced constant feeling of sympathy and white guilt toward the poor, brown masses, to a superior feeling of pitilessness regardless of rule-exceptions. Each day he made breakthroughs with this enlightenment. Thomas began to see how the browns had a constant awareness of white sympathy and how they used it to exploit the white man.

His first real action came when he was waiting in a Chic-Fil-A drive thru. The restaurant was located adjacent to a plasma donation center. Thomas knew about this place because it always had a fifty person or more line out-the-door of nogs waiting to donate plasma so they could supplement their welfare check. In addition to disgusting Thomas at the thought of ever having to receive a nog's AIDs infected plasma, it was a further example of a degenerate class of incapable beings.

"Hey mane, you got a dollar? I cane donate plasma 'til tomorrow. I need a buck for the bus," A nog—who had wandered into the the Chic-Fil-A parking lot and noticed Thomas' window down—asked.

For the first time in his life Thomas said firmly, "No," without hesitation. A few seconds later the nog had his bus fare looted from a pair of white college whores eating at one of the outside tables.

Living among blacks in The South it seemed to be understood that there were a certain element of decent, working class blacks who managed to infiltrate white society and lead essentially acceptable lives. It was, however, also understood that there was a far larger population of yooths, nogs and welfare queens who lived in a run down part of the city and were basically responsible for the majority of the crime and poverty. In the last twenty years favorable jewish lending to minorities and government programs to make suburban neighborhoods and schools more 'culturally enriched' had led to the construction and soon after destruction of many a suburban area. Areas that had once been reasonably priced, relatively white 'good-school' neighborhoods slowly, but surely declined under the pressures of ever more black, spic, and eventually muslim infiltration. Thomas, who had lived in these suburbs his entire life began, more and more, to notice how this change was affecting the quality of life, businesses, and aesthetic beauty. Neighborhoods no more than ten years old looked as though they were falling apart at the seams. Trash was everywhere, cars were parked in the grass, gardens were not maintained, and gangs of brown youths wandered the streets shirtless undoubtedly looking for trouble.

Thomas had, on occasion, run into the worst of this sort. The aggressive panhandler attempting to trade a worthless story of sorrow for five spot on the street outside a bar favored by liberal white effeminate hipsters the likes of which Thomas had occasionally larped as.

"Mane I drove this guy down here in a moving truck from New York and when we got down here we stopped at a gas station and when I came out the toilet the truck was gone. I'm just tryin' tah get to the Salvation Army mane. I juss need a couple bucks fo dah bus mane," A downtrodden black had once narrated to Thomas. The hogs were always terrible at telling believable stories, at least by a white man's standard, but often an encounter with one of them was so discomforting that it made little difference how poorly constructed the tale was, considering most white democrats would have no conception of a black having enough agency to lie. Your average republican would fork over his colonial exploits just to keep the nog from assaulting his wife or girlfriend and so, in either case the nog would win his shekels at the price of white dignity.

Thomas had quickly realized and grown tired of this dynamic, but unfortunately he feared being sodomized and having his face beaten in by a pack of chimps if he declined to hand over shekels. So for many years he complied with their beggary. It was only after a long Summer of Trump, when he finally started to become fully racially aware, that he started to, in minor ways, fight back.

The summer, of course, had included many more riotous black gangs terrorizing and burning cities in the name of more handouts from taxpaying whites. There was another horde of Central American democrat voters crossing the southern border at the behest of an ambassador-murdering Hillary Clinton, who in addition to laughing in the face of child rape victims also was becoming increasingly obese because of all the baby body parts she was consuming. Early in the summer it looked as if her satanic rituals would be enough for her to win not only the democratic nomination, but also the white house which the media seemed certain had to be filled with a communist lesbian schill for Goldman Sachs. The Latino republicans led by Jeb Bush and his mexican cleaning lady, as well as a Cuban ice cream man named Marco Rubio seemed no match for the baby-blood drinking Clinton. Thomas had been extremely cynical about the whole thing expecting the US Government Central Bankers to be at the helm of the marionette regardless of the candidate.

But then something amazing happened. In June Donald J. Trump, businessman and real estate mogul announced he was running for president. He promised to build a wall, kick out the rapist Mexicans, restore the American Dream and most importantly Make America Great Again. Trump's rhetoric gave Thomas new hope. He became more brash in his conversations with friends and acquaintances.

"Think about it," Thomas would say, "You are white. Why do you give a shit about the fucking blacks, or mexicans, or the fucking Muslims?"

If the person said, "I don't," then Thomas would say, "Then why wouldn't you vote for Trump?"

If the person said, "Well we need to take care of them," Then Thomas would say, "No we don't. We don't owe them a fucking thing. They've all had plenty of chances and they keep fucking up. It's time for a real change."

"But we can't just kick all those people out of the country."

"Not with that attitude we can't," Thomas would retort.

In late June Thomas traveled with his family to visit his Uncle and Grandfather for Father's Day. The Obugu Administration was secretly pushing the Trans Pacific Partnership through the congress and the Latino Republicans were all-aboard. Only a small faction of white nationalist Republicans operating under the auspices of 'The Freedom Caucus' were opposed to the deal. Thomas sent an email to his Jewish representative simply saying, "No TPP." He received a computer generated comprehensive Latino Republican policy outline explicitly stating the TPP's role in maintaing Jewish hegemony on International Banking. Thomas hoped that he could use his high verbal-IQ and vast amounts of knowledge about current affairs to strike up a conversation with his uncle—a wealthy Italian American financial advisor—about the state of the economy. If he were able to impress him enough, Thomas thought, he might be able to use his uncles connections to acquire a status upgrade from spic-tier to middle class yuppie-tier employment.

"Have you heard about the TPP?" Thomas asked his uncle.

"Not really," his uncle said.

And then Thomas went full-autiste and ended up sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic blasting conspiracy memes out of a word-vomit cannon.

Still, his uncle was impressed when a few weeks later it became clear that Thomas had correctly predicted the merger of Aetna and Humana the third and fourth largest health insurance companies in the United States. Thomas knew the insurance companies were using the Obugucare legislation to consulate their resources and expand their bottom lines—at greater cost to the consumer of course—and so when a few signals had shown up in his information consumption he had added the merger talking point to his general discourse list.

At the end of the summer, after completing a require regiment of Spanish classes, Thomas received his Bachelors Degree in English. For years he had regretted not entering into a STEM program, but since he was a working class white with no ability to receive free shekel's from the government to restart his major, he had stuck with the English program and had attempted to block out, as much as possible, the multicultural reeducation curriculum. He had stuck with college because his mother really wanted him to get a degree, though it had become crystal clear that anything other than an engineering degree was essentially useless if you were a white male attempting to get a job. Companies only hired women and people of color nowadays, and Thomas knew this very well. He sent out application after application each denied on the basis of his gender or ethnicity.

>>7462279
Why would you devote so much time and thought to something so bad. It's like sonichu-tier autism.

It would be so easy to give up on being a straight white male and signal as the depraved homofag he so often larped as in his Jewish controlled sexual fantasies. But becoming that much of a faux-victim went against all the Catholic and Evangelical morals he had been raised to believe and was basically on the welfare-nigger-tier of humanity. He clung to his biological birthright, even if everything else around him prodded him endlessly toward breakdown and acceptance of the Jewish-system.

>>7462341
This took about forty-five minutes so far.