Our New BLM and Antifa Neighbors Couldn't Be "Nicer"!

When me and Lurleen moved to [name withheld because: thanks anyway to death threats from libs!] last February, it was because the “sanctuary city” where we lived at had been overrun by Black Lives Matter extremists, Colin Kaepernick, and undocumented Mexican and Honduran drug dealers and rapists, abortionists, and re-apportionists. We thought a “leafy suburb”, as it was described in the glossy brochure, would be a much nicer place to raise the twins — Dukie, 7, and Darla, 6 — at.

We were right. For the first couple of years, our life out in Leafy, as I'll refer to it, was “idyllic”. The air was breathable and the water drinkable, and little Darla became a member of what we parents jokingly dubbed Hell’s Angelfood-Eaters, a group of 1^st and 2^nd grade girls with freckles who rode around on their bright pink Disney-branded bicycles selling little cartons of lemonade at a handsome markup and insisting on being allowed to help elderly “nursing home” shut-ins across the street, even if they wanted to stay inside staring catatonically at shrill television game shows and playing bingo on Thursday afternoons, after the local Girl Scout troop performed its program of Aimee Mann and Billie Eilish favorites for the umpteenth time. 

But then when the Dems “retook” the House of Representatives in 2018, and those four uppity non-white ones started “laying down the law” to everyone, a lot of what we had been told were undesirables started moving in. On one side of us, we suddenly had a Black Lives Matter family, the Joyners — dad LaRayshawn, mom Taniqu’ua, and son LaDemetrius — while on the other we had an Antifa family that wouldn’t tell us their names “for obvious reasons”, but who proudly flew their This Flag Kills Fascists flag where the former occupants of the home had proudly flown the “stara ‘n bars” and Old Glory on alternate days.

I’m here to tell you that we were “pleasantly surprised” by both sets of new neighbors. It turned out that LaRayshawn Joyner was our new chief of police, and that Taniqu’ua made the most delicious carrot cake any of us had ever tasted. She brought one over the day after they moved in, and  expressed the hope that our Dukie and her LaDemetrius might become “homies”, even though LaDemetrius is 13, and thus not likely to want to be seen playing with a seven-year-old. To our surprise, the first thing Name Withheld, the paterfamilias of the Antifa family, wanted to do was organize a vigilante group of neighborhood men and butch lesbians to ensure that pedophilia didn’t become fashionable in Leafy, as it has in so many Dem-dominated suburbs. “Our being anti-fascism doesn’t preclude our also being 125 percent against child molestation,” he explained. I was so impressed that he and me and Bud Logan from over on Wisteria Lane soon began carpooling to work together, though we all work from home.

President Trump hasn’t been wrong about many things, but BLMers and Antifa types being undesirable neighbors isn’t one of them. I hope my “saying so” doesn’t result in a lot of death threats, but if it does, Name Withheld has an “arsenal” of semiautomatic weapons he says I can borrow “in a pinch”, which I used to think was cocaine slang, but now I’m not so sure.