Skinheads never cease to crack me up with their stupidity, and I had to muffle my laughs today at the West Justice Center. The Nazi party involved the Candy-Ass Gang, the trio of pendejos (and one pendeja) who prosecutors say drove into Huntington Beach's Slater Slum neighborhood with the expressed purpose of beating up a Mexican, only to have their asses cracked at the hands of wabs. In the shackles and jumpsuits were Brian Charles Hanson, Bret Macdonald Hicks, and Michael Aaron Powell; free on $100,000 bail was wannabe chola Erin Lee Brooks. Also present were supporters of the Candy-Assers.
Nearly all the skinheads wore sweatshirts. Why the choice on such a brutally hot day? Besides the fact all are idiots and don't bother with logic, they were trying to appear normal in front of Judge Steven Bromberg--surely, Hizzoner wouldn't like to see all the ugly white supremacist tattoos each sported on their arms?
Alas, the façade wasn't meant to last. At one point, Brooks scratched her arm to reveal what looked like that Celtic symbol with all the knots (doesn't Brooks know that the Irish were long considered only slightly above blacks in America?). But the funniest-dressed gal was the peroxide blonde at the front. No amount of tugging up her sweatshirt could hide the fact that a huge, black Iron Cross was tattooed on the back of her neck. Now, I'll apologize profusely if the lady isn't racist and actually put the Cross on her neck as target practice for her man, but somehow I doubt that.
Why hide the hate, Candy-Assers? Right: because ustedes know how untenable your positions are. All together now: COWARDS!
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