/POL BTFO AGAIN

time.com/4715679/santas-husband-book-harper-design/

Stop being on the losing side /pol.

Other urls found in this thread:

time.com/4715679/santas-husband-book-harper-design/
oca.org/saints/lives/2016/12/06/103484-st-nicholas-the-wonderworker-and-archbishop-of-myra-in-lycia
reddit.com/r/The_Donald/comments/623u0h/upcoming_picturebook_called_santas_husband_im_for/
twitter.com/AnonBabble

>when Drumpf went from winning the meme war to losing in the space of a few months because Liberals are naturally funnier

wtf i hate christmas now

>time
just change it it to chaim already

>an interracial gay couple involving a black and white getting along in harmony in a children's fantasy book
Pottery

He that controls the present controls the past.

time.com/4715679/santas-husband-book-harper-design/

>Daniel Kibblesmith


EVERY FUCKING TIME.

WHAT THE FUCK JEWS YOU DON'T EVEN CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS???

EVERY GODDAMN TIME.

Digits confirm

Yet more disgusting cultural maexism aimed at kids makes me wanna home school my kids

Umm did they just assume the gender of Black Santa's partner?!?

Ha so santa can be black only if he gets his shit pushed in..I know a lot of black people who will not like this

Santa is alt-right, cuck

>repeating numbers

America does shit like this on a daily basis but thinks it has any right to mock at Canada or Sweden.

>see this pic
>"the jews did this"
>after 3 minutes of looking around to confirm
who would have thought the writer could be Jewish?

>implicitly rape

kek

...

i know that look they're giving, someones' getting coal stuffed in their stocking

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

what the actual fuck?

This is only going to push people more and more to the right. Your average Joe does not want to see multiracial faggot Santa.

Knew I recognized that name from somewhere.

Interracial homosexual Santa Claus

What a world

The author.

What a faggot.

when I was a little boy on christmas eve I heard a sound coming from the living room. I walked in to see santa and he was black. He then proceeded to rape me and said it was because I had been naughty. I told my parent's the next day and they told me that could of never happened because santa isn't real. No one has ever believed my story.

oooo which child is getting the buttplug for their chrissy present

he actually did it?

>How did I raise such a faggot of a son

Everyone getting degeneracy for Christmas goyem.

"winner" of wwII everyone

Santa Clause is based on Saint Nicholas
oca.org/saints/lives/2016/12/06/103484-st-nicholas-the-wonderworker-and-archbishop-of-myra-in-lycia

>a story about a magical nigger breaking into homes all across the world with his white husband who apologizes by leaving gifts.

Please tell me this is an ironical article. Otherwise it's so stupid that It'll make me kek till death.

...

I wonder (((who))) wrote/painted this...

nice catch cunt

The Jews keep doing this

Ok it's acted, I will tell my kids that Santa Claus don't exist.

AND OF COURSEEEEEEEEE
THE AUTHOR IS A JEW


Is Sup Forums ever wrong?

In his younger days, Aziz stood at the pawnshop counter while taking his afternoon tea, proud of his store. But years ago he had suffered a strain in his back; now when the old grandfather clock chimed four, the cheetah sat at the end of the counter, poured mint tea out of the samovar, and luxuriated in his rest. The view out his front window, unlike Aziz himself, had gotten brighter and newer over the two decades he'd owned the pawnshop. Old brownstones had aged and crumbled, then been demolished and partially replaced with bright yellow brick apartment homes, and three years ago those had given way to a "modern living and shopping space," a six-story blue glass and chrome monster that sprawled across two city blocks. The Upper Devos Homeporium (a development of the Vorvarts group) had assured the merchants in the area "increased foot traffic in your neighborhood, bringing more business and property value to the area," and Aziz along with the others on the Upper Devos Business Council had voted to approve the development. They hated those yellow brick things anyway.

But that had been five years ago, and as it happened, the people who'd lived in the yellow brick things, who'd been forced to find somewhere else to live when their buildings had been bought, they had been part of the neighborhood not easily replaced. The people who lived and shopped at the Homeporium generally stayed there, not venturing outside to quaint old Upper Devos, and when they did come into the pawnshop, distinctive in their clean, crisply cut clothes, they gawked about with the air of tourists visiting a historical monument. Aziz's business had fallen off; few of these people were hard up enough to have to pawn their possessions, or interested in buying someone else's memories. If he hadn't expanded into online sales years ago, he would have had to close this shop. Not everyone was so down on the new development; Vorvarts considered the Homeporium a smashing success and was planning to expand it. There were talks of a cineplex, a skating rink, a bowling alley.

The door jingled. Aziz looked up to see a short red fox slipping into the shop, his light blue cotton shirt hanging open over a pair of khaki slacks. He held nothing in his paws, but strode purposefully to the counter as if he were bringing something to sell.

The cheetah stood and frowned slightly, searching his memory. There were plenty of red foxes who had come into the pawnshop over the years, but not so many in the last few years. The red foxes who inhabited the neighborhood now were European, upscale, far too snooty to grace a pawnshop with their presence--the kind who wouldn't live in the Homeporium but would shop nowhere else. But this one was different, definitely one of the longtime residents of Upper Devos or the nearby towns, and yet Aziz did not know him. "Good afternoon, sir," the cheetah said. "How may I help you?"

"Hi," the fox said. "I'm looking for a video camera, a Pawtic R400."
"Of course." Aziz pointed to the back left corner of the store. "We have several on the shelves back here. Newer models than that one, too."

"No. I'm looking for a specific one." The fox looked away and took a breath. "It would have been brought in about a year ago by a cougar named Gerald DeRoot. I have..." He dug into the bag at his side. "I have our marriage certificate so you know I'm his family."

Evert day we stray further from God's Light.

While he was laying the paper and the driver's license on the table, Aziz kept his demeanor calm. He'd run into married male couples before, and they always made him feel wary but with a vertiginous fascination. Of course, sexual contact with males was haraam, but the couples he knew weren't Muslim. Normally when he encountered a non-Muslim eating pork, for example, or drinking alcohol, or even cheating at cards, he felt only a sense of being other, and not one that bothered him. But back in his home country of Madiyah, homosexual behavior was punishable by death, often brutal and public. This had been an immutable fact of Aziz's life until he was past twenty and stepping off a plane in the States.
Here he had found a different world. He read the newspapers and watched the increasing acceptance of gay people and couples with the memory of his uncle's flight always in his mind. And so, perhaps, he did not look for those people and couples in his everyday life. When the two female fennec foxes who owned the organic grocery store down the block had announced their marriage, he'd been surprised. "You didn't know they were a couple?" Halifa had said with amusement, and Aziz had responded stiffly that he didn't look for such things. But after that there were more marriages and he started to see relationships even outside the wedding announcements.

And then there had been his son.

"Sir?"

Aziz looked down with a start. His paws felt tight. The fox had placed an id on the counter next to a piece of paper, so Aziz stretched his fingers as he examined both. The license identified the fox as Benjamin Tonnen, with an address over on Larchmont. And the piece of paper...

This certifies that Gerald DeRoot and Benjamin Tonnen were joined in marriage on the 2nd day of April, 2011.

The two male names, the joining in marriage...the cheetah's paw shook slightly as he laid the paper down. "You didn't need to bring this," he said. "Anyone may purchase anything in the store."

"Yes, but that camera is really important. If someone else bought it, I was hoping you might let me know who. It's not even the camera. It's the tape. He sold it with the tape still in it." The fox--Benjamin--wrung his paws. His ears were flat and his tail curled behind him, drawn in on himself. "We didn't need the money that badly--do people do that often?"

The descent and abrupt return from his monologue caught Aziz off guard. "Do people do what?"

"Sell cameras with the tapes still in them. Do people buy them?" He gestured to the section of video cameras. "If I buy one of those and it has a tape in it, do I get the tape too?"

"When we take an item, we take it as it is." Aziz kept his professional demeanor up. "And when a customer buys it, they buy it as it is."

Benjamin's ears stayed down. He glanced at the computer. "So...can you check? Can you see if someone bought it, or if you still have it?"

doesnt sound like a jewish name to me.

"Do you see it on the shelf?" Aziz didn't have to check the computer. No fox had brought in a video camera in the last two years, not to this store, anyway. Possibly on one of the days he hadn't been here, but those were few; possibly Benjamin had the location wrong and his--husband--had gone to one of Aziz's other locations. For that he could just text Naseeb, who worked at the store closest to this one.

Benjamin trudged over to the shelf to look. The marriage certificate remained on the counter, open but bowing up along the fold. It remained crisp, so it had likely been put away somewhere and well cared for. Likely by the fox, not by his--his husband, technically.

The paper drew Aziz's eyes again, and now he saw the species below the names. Benjamin Tonnen, red fox, and Gerald DeRoot--cougar.

Oh. And now he remembered the fox saying that Gerald was a cougar and felt foolish for assuming he would have been a fox. Regardless, that changed everything. He knew which camera it was now. And he remembered the cougar, too, large and sullen, in a stained white t-shirt and camo pants. He'd sold the camera along with an old VCR and a sewing machine, and he'd spoken barely a word. Aziz had given him the price and he hadn't complained nor tried to haggle, just put his large tan paw out and taken the cash. Off to buy alcohol, Aziz had thought, and he'd tagged the items and put them on the shelf.

The fox came back shaking his head. "There's one that's the same model, I think, but there's no tape in it."

"I am sorry," Aziz said. "I moved some cameras to one of my other locations because we had too many here. I will have it sent over if it is still there. The price should be the same as it is there on the shelf; fifty dollars, is it?"

He waited for Benjamin to haggle, to tell him that the camera hadn't been sold in a year and had been moved to another store where it still hadn't been sold (if it hadn't been sold), to offer him a small amount for the tape without the camera, but the fox perked his ears and only said, "Yes, that's fine. Which location? I could go now."

Aziz indicated the computer. "I will have to see if it is still there. I would hate for you to travel all the way to Cape Red for nothing."

Benjamin's ears flattened again. Cape Red was a wonderful place for a pawnshop, but not so much for casual visiting, and it would be an hour away by public transportation. "I don't really mind," he said.

"My store manager comes in every night anyway. I'll call and have her bring the camera. If it is still there." Aziz smiled. "And you can come back tomorrow and have it."

"Well..." Benjamin's claws tapped the counter glass, which there was a sign asking people not to do, but Aziz let it pass. "Can you call him right now? I'd hate for someone to walk in and buy it."

"Of course." Aziz smiled and picked up the phone.

The manager at the Cape Red store was a young hyena named Jennifer, bright and energetic. Aziz described the camera and the tape, and she put him on hold while she went to check her shelves. A moment later she came back, slightly breathless, and reported that she'd found a camera of that model with a tape in it. He instructed her to put it behind the counter and bring it in that evening.

"They still have it," he told Benjamin, who clearly had heard his conversation. His ears were up and he was smiling, his tail swishing behind him. "Video cameras don't sell so much anymore. One year is not unusual. Still, sometimes people want them."

"I know it's weird," the fox said. "A year later. I knew he'd sold the camera, but I was looking for the tape and I found the box but the tape wasn't in it. And I asked him and..." And there his ears went to the side and his eyes went down. "Anyway, I figured it was in the camera, because the last time I remembered us using it was...that tape was in it."

The cheetah nodded. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Oh, no. So...tomorrow, I can come back...?"

"I should have it first thing."

"Thank you so much." Benjamin was all joy again, relief in his amber eyes, his ears upright and tail even wagging. "God, I'd hate to lose that tape. You know, we can buy another camera, but we can't make those memories over again, right?"

Aziz allowed the fox's delight to bring a smile to his muzzle as well. "I'm very glad we still have it. I'll look for you tomorrow morning."

"Yes, yes!" And the fox reached over and seized Aziz's paw, shook it vigorously, and then hurried out of the shop.

The cheetah held his paw and watched through the window as the fox stopped on the pavement in front of the store and then lost himself in the crowd of people going by. It was nice to be able to make someone happy in this business, he thought. He was about to return to his samovar when the crowd thinned for a moment. Through the gap in the flow of t-shirts, skirts, and tails, the figure of Benjamin was visible doubled over against the charcoal-grey lamppost. The fox's paws covered his face and he appeared to be shaking.

Was he sick? Aziz started around the counter, but a moment later, the fox straightened and rubbed his paws across his eyes. They left wet streaks that Aziz could see even through the glass. Naked emotion wrinkled the russet fur around the eyes and the white fur on his muzzle as Benjamin rubbed again, visibly composing himself. A moment later, a herd of deer in identical business suits crowded past the store window, and when they'd passed, Benjamin was gone.

End of Chapter 1 :^)

▲
▲ ▲

kek

And I've met people who argue Time isn't left wing b.s. ... incredible, the ride truly never ends.

Not even remotely strange by furry standards. Though most furry literary porn focuses much more on the banging instead of the sjw bullshit.

Great now some nig is gonna steal my presents and a fag is going to cum in my stockings on Christmas. Liberals ruin everything.

>It's another faggots ruin everything good in the universe with their faggot bullshit episode.

I don't want to live in this world anymore.
Fuck this timeline

Saw my guys out at Pole Position the other day!

>Santa is alt-right.
So this fag propaganda is perfectly in line with that.

As long as Santa isn't bottom I'm okay with this

>absolutely cucked

...

What kids?

Oh, a fucking jew again...

Has he got some Santa fetish? He wants his rectum sleighing? 8 reindeers giving him the horn or something? I don't know why else he would be so fucking obnoxious.

>Slate
4 years ago I thought Slate was the most neutral publication out there.

weird, always assumed elves were his fairy faggots, is this canon now?

Je t'en prie, arrête.

>when you're gay but just an average normal guy dating a qt femboy that just wants yo be the perfect white picket fence housewife
>you both hate 99.5% of all gays for being just all around terrible people
>don't take part in the gay community because it's all a jewish ploy to niggerfy gay men to keep them down since "gay culture" is just emulating walnut brained american yard ape females

Santa Claus is Finnish, these cucks have no authority to change the lore. It is known that Santa is a White man with a White wife.

you mean the side that is forced out of existence by HIV?

>Santa no longer gives bad kids coal
>burns coal instead

Although to be fair, virtue signaling seems to be a more valuable commodity than coal these days.

keked/cheked

How much does shareblue pay anyways?

>Funny

virtue signalling cunt

>balding cucklet
I wonder how small his cock cage is.

This is nothing shocking. The other day I was watching the Talmudvision and it had a gay interracial couple on it. The story line was that they wanted a child, but one of them wanted to higher an agency to get them a surrogate, the other one (black) thought it was too expensive.

So the black gay goes to a former girlfriend of his (apparently he used to be straight, I thought he was born that way) who is white obviously and tries to convince her to be surrogate. She agrees because she thinks she's going to fuck the black gay, when she finds out they both want her to fuck the white gay she is disgusted and refuses.

If you think I'm making this shit up it was on a show called "Doctors". Look up the recent (I guess, could be reruns) episodes.

Oh by the way this was during the daytime.

Hahahahahaha holy fuck that's funny

...

Reddit/The_Donald user detected:

>reddit.com/r/The_Donald/comments/623u0h/upcoming_picturebook_called_santas_husband_im_for/

Hmmm... Nope. Still hasn't been anything funny out of the liberal camp in the last year.

Who came up with that?

Sounds almost archetypically English although could be some made up American shit