A beautiful white woman confesses her love for the black man

[Fruit of thy loins]

Behold, with her long golden hair and her big, bright eyes - into which one may stare and see visions of the sea, of cliffs, of ancient times long since past; yea, from her eyes one can discern the legacy of the Viking raids, the adventure of millennia - and with her beautiful smiling face, so soft and peachy, so motherly, inspiring delight, akin to a box of the most sumptious and delicious chocolates: lo, she even approaches, and whispers softly (- and it came to pass, as she whispered, behold, all of your worries and stresses fled you: and you set eyes upon her bosom, and you longed to draw suck therefrom; the instinct to be mothered was awakened in you, and you almost came to idolize this woman as a goddess), saying,

'Behold now, I have known you these many years: and have I ever come near you and begged you to know me as your wife?

Well then.  I have a confession to make.  You see, I do not long for you as my husband; I do not want to wake up beside you, to hold your hands, to love you or to have children and a house with you: you remind me of bad times that I'd rather forget.

But I have found a man: a tall, handsome, muscular, and yet caring, kind, considerate man: and o! let me, I pray you, confess it: permit me confess before the ear of all the congregation of demons and angels bearing witness over our conversation this day: o! how this fellow pleasures me in the bedroom!'

And it came to pass, as these words flew from her lips, like pollen from plants, and landed upon your ears, behold, thy concupiscences were thereby fertilized: and there arose a mighty yellow plant, a bulbous, pulsating, angry plant: a voracious devourer of the sun's rays: and there was awakened in you a realization, a knowledge, a sweet longing suffused with bitter tears of rejection: and as she drew away from you, smiling, her breasts rising up and down like two beautiful hanging oranges - you fell upon your face, and you wept like a babe.  Because you knew that she was truly happy now, and not saying things to make you happy - and you saw for the first time in your life that her happiness was a life without you, and that your own happiness - to be with her - was her greatest fear.

[mord]

You meet a girl?

[Fruit of thy loins]

Very well then, run to your black beloved.  Obviously I was happy to walk around the city in scorching summer, seeing all those very attractive women, and be denied them, simply because I am white.  And after all, happiness is all that matters - happiness for white women.

[mord]

DON'NT WORRY YOU'LL FIND A A NICE WOMAN

[Fruit of thy loins]

Sleek and slender, with utmost respect for gender, she lets her golden locks fall upon the black man's head: and they lie together in bed, their genes mixed together like in a blender.

And she holds his hand, and whispers into his ear; her legs crossed over his, and she says, 'I love you; do you hear?' - and straightway they are delivered into the Promised Land.

[Nic Brookes]

Why is there so much pity taken on Fruity boy/girl?

[Shlomo]

I have locked this topic.

"Fruit of thy loins", please keep your posts on topic and keep them appropriate for a religious forum.