Is White the Color with no Name?

I'm off to the Downtown Standard Sunday pool party.
I think DC shoes have taken over the entire hotel. Yuck city.
It's only Etnies for me. And gold lame Givenchy heels for ladies. But still Etnies for me.
At the downtown Standard pool party.
There are attractive people. The weather is perfect.
I'm drinking Red Bull and vodka.

There may be too many Asians here, though. I love 'em, but the mix isn't really right.
Like the Filipina to Japanese ratio is all wrong. And there are no Chinese or Koreans at all... not that anyone cares.
Specifically that there were too many Filipinas and too few Japanese. I love Filipinas, really I do, but parties are for mix.
There are waaaay too many Armenians but not enough Persians. Black and white is just right.
I'm totally confirming that DC sucks as a brand and as a concept and as a lifestyle.
I just ordered the peanut butter, banana and marshmallow sandwich.

I Belong Everywhere© 2009 - dissidently

You know, there are really no appropriate racial slurs for white people, or none that I've ever heard.

Peckerwood is funny.
Honky is stupid.
Cracker sounds a li'l cool.
White Devil is straight up awesome.
White trash is pan-racial (black trash, asian trash etc.)
Bogan is only Oz.
Redneck is only mid-America and implies hard work.
Bubba doesn't roll off the tongue.
Caucasoid is scientific.
Flat-ass is simply true.
Gringo has been absorbed by whites on vacation. "Hey, gimme bottled water, amigo. I'm a gringo!"
Same as haole. "I need sunscreen. I'm a..."
I could go on, but my point is proven and clear.
There is not one racial slur for whites that has any sort of sting whatsoever.

I've traveled many places and been called many things.

None of them hurt. None of them even remotely bothered me.
I wish someone would make something up with bite. Something that we would hear and hang our beautiful blonde heads in shame.
Cracker reminds me of the fantastic band Cracker fronted by the fantastic David Lowery. Happy Birthday to Me.
But see, fuckin haole doesn't make me feel anything. It has no history to my people as a whole.
It only has meaning to those of my people who took over Hawaii.

These days I am perpetually foul.

A Romanian girl approached to take my picture. She gave me her digital camera when she was done and said, "Look. I just went to a Barcelona vs. Galaxy soccer match!"
There were pictures. I went through and deleted them one by one. Then I gave her camera back.
I left my picture.
She asked if I liked to dance and I said, "No." Then ordered the peanut butter, banana and marshmallow sandwich I referenced earlier.
It was so good. It came with chocolate dipping sauce. I really hate soccer.
Back to the racial slurs.
I went to the Museum of Tolerance once in Los Angeles. It was a college somethingratherelse, I believe.
At the time, my roommate was black.
I would have called him an African-American but he would beat the shit of me for calling him that.
Anyhow they have a "Tunnel of Insults" or "Tunnel of Hate" or something.
It is a dark hallway and voices are piped in through speakers.
They say, "Heeey kike." "You ain't nothin' but a dirty nigger." "Stupid zipperhead." and "Honky boy."
We sat on the floor laughing until kosher hotdogs came out of our noses.
They were all funny, some funny in an offensive way, but the white ones just fell flat.
Bad comedy routine. Like Dane Cook.

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