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  • Writer's pictureMicah French

A day in the life of a BLM supporter…

Updated: Sep 23, 2020

I wake up and roll over, knocking my worn copies of Das Kapital and the Communist Manifesto off the bed. I can’t believe I fell asleep on my homework again, Mr. Gates is going to be angry.

I check my phone and have a notification that the payment from Soros came through, along with coordinates for delivery of the pallet of bricks. Soros always pays in advance which is way better than the Clinton Foundation which only pays per burnt building.

I drive to the airport, stopping along the way to check my assigned 5G tower. I’m glad to see it’s still emitting the COVID19 frequency.

My phone dings. Trump saved another 100k from the virus using his home brewed hydroxychloroquine recipe, but we’re going to spin the narrative and fabricate a story that he drop-kicked a homeless veteran in the rose garden. It’s going to be a hard sell, but Zuckerberg updated the algorithm today so instead of having to post on 10 fake accounts my quota is only 5.

I’m not looking forward to my 3 day shift in Portland, there’s just nothing left there to destroy, which means the checks are gonna be light. Trump’s legitimate federal police force is also on scene which is making things difficult. They’re so disciplined that it takes a lot to agitate them, and even when you do it’s impossible to get the viral video to come out right because of how well trained they are.

I don’t wear a mask, and why would I. There’s no actual virus, the Fauci re-branding of the common flu has worked better than the deep state could have ever anticipated. These idiots walk around breathing in their own CO2 for weeks on end until they’re so dull they don’t even notice the microchip being implanted in their nasal cavity during “testing.”

CNN is on in the terminal and I hear Jake Tapper say one of the code phrases. I roll my eyes as it means I have to reroute to Chicago and drop off unregistered firearms to inner city youth. It’s like every Democrat Mayor thinks we’ve got all the time in the world and can come fuel their race war at the drop of a hat. At least I’ll be able to catch up with my ANTIFA buddies while I’m in town, I hear the rat burgers in their Autonomous Zone are absolute fire.

Upon arrival in Chicago I get notified that Q is on to us. I’ve never seen him personally, nobody has, at least nobody has and has lived to tell the tale. We just find the bodies of our fallen ANTIFA comrades, branded with the signature Q+++, a small red pill sitting on the tip of their tongue.

I decide it’s too risky and turn around to go home. Whether I do the job or not it doesn’t matter, I still get paid either way because Communism.

At the end of the day I’ve accomplished very little and have been paid exorbitant amounts of other people’s money for doing so, just as Karl Marx intended. I sleep soundly knowing we’re one step closer to the fall of America via Socialism.

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