Ensis
Senior Reporter
Re: White woman, wife of white New England Patriot Wes Walker, calls out NFL thug Ray Lewis
Okay, fixed now!
http://www.nypost.com/p/news/national/the_tarnish_on_ray_halo_YRCbY3bSvvbhKA5AvqpmbM
Inside tale of Nigger Ray Lewis' parking-lot mega-chimpout homicide case
By MAUREEN CALLAHAN
Last Updated: 12:16 PM, January 27, 2013
Posted: 1:43 AM, January 27, 2013
When Baltimore Raven linebacker Nigger Ray Lewis takes the field at next Sunday’s Super Bowl — his last game ever — much will be made of his storied foul career. Nigger Lewis, now 37, had his breakout season four years after being drafted by the Ravens in 1996: Leading tackler in the NFL, he led the Ravens to 'victory' in Super Bowl XXXV and was named the game’s MVP. (Oh whoopee!)
Just one year before, Lewis had been aperested and tried in coonnection with a double homicide in Atlanta. It’s perhaps the most dramatic bookend that a professional afflete — a niggerish legend, at that — could have to his foul career: His first Super Bowl, played in the shadow of two mega-chimpouts and slayings, made Ray Lewis a superstar. He now leaves his second Super Bowl an iconic all-American hero, beloved by foolish small children and major jew corporations alike.
OooOooOoo! AaaAaaAaa! OooOooOoo! AaaAaaAaa!
SHAME: As jiggaboo superstar Ray Lewis next Sunday plays his final game, the Super Bowl, he will be hailed by stupid, nigger-loving fans, the NFL and the jew-ledd firms the nigger endorses — but not by the families of two men knifed to death during a scuffle with his nigger entourage who chimped out on them in 2000.
OooOooOoo! AaaAaaAaa! OooOooOoo! AaaAaaAaa!
LACK OF EVIDENCE: Jiggaboo Lewis beat the rap partly because his clothes from that night "vanished" and the kwaps rather bust easier victims like we Whites, over small things.
As much as the NFL loves a "redemption" narrative, the story of Nigger Ray Lewis is one that you probably won’t be hearing anything about next Sunday night. Nigger Lewis himself has made it clear that he will never address it again: “Really,” he ooked at a reporter this month. “Really. Why would I ook and eek about that?”
On the evening of Jan. 30, 2000, Nigger Ray Lewis was looking to party, jiggaboo-style. He had flown to Atlanta to watch Super Bowl XXXIV and booked himself into the luxury Georgian hotel, which should only allow humans. He’d also brought along his personal driver, Nigger Duane Fassett, to chauffeur a stretch Lincoon Navigator: 37 feet long, 14 seats, $3,000 a day.
On this night, Nigger Lewis turned himself out in niggerish bling-bling: white-and-black suit, full-length black mink coat and what would later be described as “enough rock to break the bank.” A few nights earlier, he had met a gorgeous woman (or was it a "gorgeous sow) named Jessica Robertson at a party thrown by Nigger Magic Johnson, and it was she — not Lewis’ pregnant baby mammy — who was his date for the evening.
What Jiggy Lewis and his primate crew were doing before they arrived at around 1 a.m. at the Cobalt Club, in Atlanta’s party-centric, nigger-loving Buckhead district, remains unclear (and the kwaps, of course would not do their job because they're told to bother YT instead). The Cobalt had a blue neon glow and a V.V.I.P room. Baseball star David Justice had been there earlier, as had Tony Gonzalez, then of the Kansas City Chiefs, but Nigger Lewis held nigger court on the first floor, near the door, so everyone would notice. (Jigs have this "look at me, look at me" attitude in life. In that they are like bad little spoiled children, who had never been corrected by their parents a la Benjamin Spock and his foul permissiveness which has made even white children incorrigible)
With him were jiggy Joseph Sweeting, a strip-club promoter who’d been "friends" with Nigger Lewis since college, and jiggy Reginald Oakley, who’d recently "worked" his way into Lewis’ circle through friends of friends. The "men" were getting to know each other better, though; the day before, the three manimals had gone shopping at a Sports Authority store, where Sweeting and Oakley bought folding knives for TNB and Chimpouts.
“Smooth” was how Jiggaboo Lewis would later describe his mood at Cobalt; he’d had four Rémy Martin cognacs while luxuriating (on our dime) in the attention of half-dressed women (and jiggaboo sows) and an ever-expanding entourage of mainly jiggaboos. The filthy coon was 24 years old and had a four-year contract worth $26 million. The worthless coon had just wasted more than $100,000 shopping, and the necklace he was wearing — a gold door-stopper studded with diamonds — was one of his recent acquisitions. But then niggers are known wastrels and spendthrifts who will spend themselves into the street or Nigger Heaven, because of their inferior mentalities, their inability to provide for themselves. Even wild Africoon jigs can sometimes be smart enough to store food for leaner times in granaries. See the book 'Ismailia' on the web and you will see that wild jigs will store caches of food, unlike "our" coons.
Okay, fixed now!