one of those helpful gentlemen here to do the jobs American won't do was discovered by the three of his countrywomen whom he'd gotten with child, which delicate condition prevented none of them from beating him, and each other, into the ground.
Driving away, Mr. Common Reader found himself in a neighborhood that didn't care for his presence and let him know by yelling "honky!" and pelting his car. He told me about this in the church parking lot. I said, "It's so unfair that I post the things I do about racial relations, and you're the one who gets pursued by the angry mob."
It's a very nice church.