Oh, you think it’s funny that I turn red and have palpitations when I eat spicy food? You think that just because I’m white my pain and suffering doesn’t matter? That eating spicy food hurts my delicate little tongue and far more delicate little asshole? I might get dehydrated from sweating too much, that’s dangerous you know. You get a real good laugh when you order habanero salsa for the table, and then when I try to say I don’t want any all my poc friends start chanting “SALTINE BOY SALTINE BOY SALTINE BOY” until I load up a chip and begin a 3-4 hour medical ordeal that only ends when I shit my pants while running to the bathroom? Is this a joke to you? I already put black pepper on the table. Any more flavor out here and I might literally have a heart attack, and science proves it. I just want to be able to fully appreciate the ingredients of my dish, whole boiled potatoes and salted meat. If that makes me a SALTINE BOY then so be it. I will not eat the peppers, and I will not get into the pod.
If you all keep teasing me I’m going to join lemm.ee and give you an aneurysm with my liberalism.
“The food of the true revolutionary is the red pepper, and he who cannot endure red peppers is also unable to fight.” -Mao Zedong
Sorry, I don’t make the rules, lib.
Apparently there are two kinds of white people in America.
Those who consider oregano a wildly exotic spice, and those who buy gallon jugs of a sauce that doubles as aligator poison.
SALTINE BOY
