Once there was an angry raccoon.
He was bitter and obese and lonely. He lived in a squalid hellhole of his own make. He hated other raccoons for wearing colors he didn't agree with. Pastels of blue, pink, and white. He HATED them, loathed them.
He would spend his days on his little raccoon computer talking to other hateful bigots about how awful and terrible he believed these colorful raccoons were. He'd think aloud, "WHY couldn't they be happy with the gray tones they were born with? How awful of them. THEY surely were to blame for the world's ills! Not like us, the goodly, normal raccoons."
Then one day, at the age of 41, he died. The hateful bigoted raccoon is dead now. All the colorful raccoons rejoiced, or didn't even notice. Either way, good riddance, hateful raccoon.
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1 month ago
29 Jun 2025 02:00 CEST
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