Genetically, they were mutated while in the care of Nazi death camps. While begging on their hands, and knees, for their lives. When that time indeed came. It's natural to be a bit sexually aroused at that final moment. That rather large beautiful armed German SS soldier, yelling, shouting, controlling you. Telling the weak, starved, easily baited Jew what to do, and where to do it, and when, and how. In gratitude, the Jew, knowing he's getting a few more precious moments to live a bit longer? Catches the brunt of those hard tipped new boots. Right into his freezing scrotum; as the SS soldier turns with a laugh, tears off to leg latch another Hebe. Another terrified, frayed to the rift; a gracious and professional leg humper. A new Jew, a Darwinian success, becomes! A story for tall Aryan soldiers to share at X-mas to their Waspy faced Goy families & peers. Each other’s fixed Sky-blue eyes making a WHITE (Aryan) long lasting Bond. Only a coward would fuck his enemy's leg. But a Jew will do it as long as you'll allow, and even some extra, you wouldn't, while you sleep. That's why in the end. They're still winning. Passive aggressive elitism, with just enough last Chance card hints of loyalty and forgiveness. Dare you ask why you're still the infidel? It's a sneaky long felt marketing strategy. Known to drunk Southern Democrats as the Opossum that wakes up, when your not quite ready to. The worm cares not which bird he draws that early on, any given morning. Really, he just needs enough time to fuck himself then splits in between. Now, decades later, and for some dull reason I could hardly spend more than an hour analyzing? I get paid an outlandish amount of untaxed cash to let one of these 'evolved' Jews, humpy bump away. And you know what? It gets me hard. Hard enough to blast a steaming load O'jiz right on that fucker's cooing baldest dome. Which, he then thanks me for, nasaly. Repeatedly. While he hands the money, and buttons his shirt up, strategically eye- -balling his front door. Urgent, and guiltily, but ready to be productive and less emotionally stiff at work or play tomorrow. When counting out tomorrow's motives. Or dealing with any filthy rich plaintiffs that advocate, kneecap buffing on the first date. Though what instinct birthed this odd votive?