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May 20, 2024 39 mins

How do you handle a triggered leftist? To find the answer, we follow the story of a time when our humble co-host, Adryana, had a run-in with perhaps one of the most triggered human species on the face of the planet – a Hollywood lefty…and what she did to put this rare breed in its place.

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Speaker 1 (00:00):
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Speaker 2 (00:21):
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Speaker 1 (00:38):
And if you're listening to this on a podcast platform,
please give us a five star rating. Leave us a review.
It helps us beat the big tech algorithm. Thanks for
helping us save America one story at a time. Now
on with the show. This episode was originally broadcast on
June twelfth, twenty twenty. We're entering into crazy season, also
known as an election cycle, that moody time of life

when people become irrational and emotions flare up.

Speaker 3 (01:10):
I'm fard of you.

Speaker 4 (01:12):
You're not my.

Speaker 3 (01:12):
Brother, you're not my brother.

Speaker 1 (01:14):
It's like one bad American temper tantrum, and when it comes,
the left seems to act like poopy diaper toddlers. Just
one of your social media posts can send them on
a tailspin, ending some mediocre friendships, and, if you're lucky,
a few distant family members that you've been trying to
shake for decades peel off. When that moment comes, when
people go nuts over politics, what should you do? How

do you handle a triggered leftist? I'm Patrick Carelci.

Speaker 3 (01:43):
And I'm Adriana Cortes.

Speaker 1 (01:45):
And this is Red Pilled America, a storytelling show.

Speaker 2 (01:49):
This is not another talk show covering the day's news.
We're all about telling stories.

Speaker 1 (01:55):
Stories. Hollywood doesn't want you to hear stories.

Speaker 2 (01:58):
The media mocks stories about everyday Americans that the globalist ignore.

Speaker 1 (02:03):
You can think of Red Pilled America as audio documentaries,
and we promise only one thing, the truth. Welcome to
Red Pilled America. Elections are typically heated times, but since

Trump entered the scene, voting season has made emotions go nuclear.
Social media was once a fun place where people could
update friends and family on their life and occasionally post
a topic that tweaked a person's followers without fear of
losing it all. But ever since the Donald entered the scene,
a simple post that just hints at supporting the president

can send a joyless acquaintance or annoying family members on
a tirade hell bent on shaming you on the digital
public square. Who would have thought that being against defunding
the police or choosing not to martyr criminal would be
an act of white privilege. As the election season progresses
and you come across adults with the impulse control of
a toddler, what should you do? How do you handle

a triggered leftist? To find the answer, we're going to
follow the story of a time when my co host
and partner in life, Adriana, ran across perhaps one of
the most emotionally unstable human species on the face of
the planet, a Hollywood lefty, and what she did to
put this rare breed in its place.

Speaker 2 (03:33):
America has had a lot of gate scandals. First, of course,
was Watergate, then Climbing Gate, to plate Gate, gamer Gate,
Grab Him by the Gate, and probably my personal favorite,
wiener Gate. My curiosity for dissecting these train wrecks was
bound to engulf me in one of my own gate controversies,
and in fact it eventually did, albeit not a very

famous one. I called it selfie Gate. It was set
in Lalla Land, amongst the rich, famous, and virtue signaling
Hollywood elites. But unlike most scandals, getting embroiled in, this
one was well therapeutic. It was July twenty fifth, twenty sixteen,

and the day started off like any other beautiful sunny
summer morning in southern California. I woke up, I read
my emails, made some coffee, checked out the new filters
on Snapchat, reviewed my friend notifications Ooh goop, followed me back,
then dropped off my kid at summer camp, and went
to work. We all take quick social media breaks throughout

the day. It's become part of our daily routine. So
sometime mid afternoon I peeked into Facebook. Truth be told,
Facebook had been on a steep decline. For me self,
indulgent political diatribes had replaced the things that I loved
most about the site, namely cute animal videos and clips
of laughing babies. What was different about this day, though,

was that it just so happened to be day one
of the Democratic National Convention what was supposed to be
a well choreographed event to anoint Hillary Clinton as the
first female nominee for president on a major party ticket.
The problem was that massive news had just hit everyone's
social media feeds.

Speaker 5 (05:19):
The latest emails released by WikiLeaks suggests the top officials
at the Democratic National Committee planned to undermine Bernie Sanders
presidential campaign.

Speaker 2 (05:28):
Wiki Leaks had just dropped the mother load of document dumps,
a batch of Democratic National Committee DNC emails that showed
without question that Hillary Clinton and the DNC had colluded
to screw Bernie Sanders out of the Democrat nomination.

Speaker 5 (05:43):
The Sanders campaign had long accused the DNC of tipping
the scales in favor of Hillary Clinton. In this email
for May twenty sixteen, DNC Press Secretary Mark Postenbach wrote
wondering if there's a good Bernie narrative for a story
which is Bernie never ever had that together that his
campaign was a mess.

Speaker 2 (06:02):
Within hours of the news, Hillary's campaign manager had oddly
already assessed how the emails had gone public. In their telling,
the DNC email server had been hacked by Russia to
help Donald Trump win the election.

Speaker 6 (06:16):
What is the reaction of the Clinton campaign to these
DNC leaked emails, suggesting that top officials, including the CFO there,
were actively discussing ways to hurt Bernie Sanders in the primary.

Speaker 7 (06:28):
Well, I think the DNC needs to look into this
and take appropriate action, and I'm sure that they will.
What's disturbing to us is that we experts are telling
us that Russian state actors broke into the DNC stole
these emails, and other experts are now saying that the
Russians are releasing these emails for the purpose of actually
helping Donald Trump. I don't think it's coincidental that these

emails were released on the eve of our convention.

Speaker 2 (06:54):
Here. They must have had the greatest forensic IT team
ever assembled to come to that conclusion so quickly, or
maybe it was just because if they had had that
kind of computer muscle on hand, they wouldn't have been
quote unquote hacked.

Speaker 3 (07:08):
In the first place.

Speaker 2 (07:10):
While the story that the leaked emails told hit the
Dumb convention like a nuclear bomb, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, the
chairman of the DNC, was forced to resign. The entire
event was falling apart at the scenes right before everyone's eyes,
and it was glorious. It felt a little bit like redemption.

For months, America had been seeing political violence for the
first time in decades, directed at one specific group, Trump supporters.
Hollywood in the mainstream media were an overdrive, pumping out
the nasty narrative that anyone who supported Trump was a
despicable racist, signaling to the crazies that it was open
season on the Maga crowd. Their year long effort paid

off when just a month earlier, San Jose Trump rallygoers
were pummeled while news cameras and a battalion of police
officers quietly stood on the sidelines, refusing to intervene.

Speaker 8 (08:08):
Overnight all out brawls outside the Trump rally in San Jose, California,
Trump supporters harassed, beaten, and bloodied by mobs of protesters.

Speaker 3 (08:18):
They're like spitting on me and stuff.

Speaker 8 (08:20):
This man says he was sucker punched, his clothes torn
off his back.

Speaker 1 (08:24):
Seven more people this comment start punching me, tarl I
look very bad.

Speaker 8 (08:29):
This lone female Trump supporter tried to stand her ground,
her son torn from her hands, her glasses ripped off,
then shoved in her face.

Speaker 9 (08:38):

Speaker 8 (08:39):
This was one of the most violent scenes I have
ever witnessed at a Trump rally. At times, it seemed
like the police had no control of the situation. People
were getting beat up right in front of them, and
these were not clashes. These were pure attacks. Trump supporters, men, women,
even the elderly left this building last night and walked
right into danger America.

Speaker 2 (09:00):
I was learning quickly that it was okay to punch
a right winger, so watching the Democrat Party devolve into
complete and utter chaos on the very first day of
their convention was better than a new pair of designer shoes.
When I logged onto Facebook that day, the mud slinging
from the bernie Bots at Camp Hillary had already reached

defcon one. The bernie Bot commis were so livid that
they were posting tie raids encouraging riots on the convention floor. Listen,
that's par for the course today, but four years ago
that was still considered insane behavior. Angry doesn't begin to
describe what I was witnessing on my feed. The insults
and putdowns would easily get you banned for life from

Facebook today. Truthfully, we'll never understand why people think it's
appropriate to hide behind a computer screen and be rude
on social media. That's just not how I roll personally.
I prefer to be rude to people's faces so long
as it's warranted. I guess I'm old school like that.
So there I am scrolling through Facebook and really hoping

for a laughing baby video, but all I'm seeing is
DNC political venom. At the time, for the sake of
our daughter, my husband Patrick and I had made a
concerted effort to tone down our politics on social media.
We'd been early supporters of Donald Trump. Shortly after his
presidential announcement, Patrick Pennon OpEd for Brettbart News. It was
critical of what would later be known as the Republican

never Trump crowd that seemed hell bent on taking the
real estate mogul down. But the environment had turned violent,
and our baby girl was attending a prestigious Hollywood private school,
Oakwood Elementary, that was jam packed with elite triggered Hollywood leftists.
We'd been butting heads with the parents because of our
right leaning politics for years and really didn't mind the
conflict personally, but now our daughter was starting to take

some of the incoming fire. It felt as if these
people were on the verge of being unhinged. On top
of that, I was still recovering from major organ surgery,
so we thought it best to take it easy on
politics when posting on social media, especially on Facebook, where
all of the parents from our school seem to live.
You see, the thing about Hollywood is that it's infested

with Trustafarians, and many of them spend their days smoking
a ton of pot and being keyboard warriors on Facebook.
It was tempting to get in on the social media
in salt bandwagon, but Patrick and I had a plan
de escalate the political vitriol and I had to stick
to it. I swear that man is always holding me back.

So I came up with a bright idea for every
heated political take I saw on Facebook. I'd post a
silly selfie of myself with a stupid saying. I picked
a cute picture of myself in sunglasses, then wrote at
the bottom, these sunnies are bomb. To launch my good
humored campaign, I wrote a Facebook post explaining that we

all needed to bring down the political temperature. The post
read share your sunshine, focus on the positive, be mindful
of others, think twice about sharing negative memes or long
winded posts. About how much you hate the other side.
I have the common sense to refrain from posting beautiful
selfies of myself when I really want to, because, let's

be honest, I'm better looking than most of you. Also,
I'm courteous enough to keep my political views to myself
when clearly my opinion matters way more than yours and
the person that I'm voting for is the one who's
gonna win. So please be respectful or prepare to get
a selfie from me. This is Facebook, where we all
haven't seen each other since high school or have possibly

met once. If you want to discuss politics, make a
dinner reservation with your real friends. Thanks in advance. I
then proceeded to post the selfie on a few select
Facebook posts that I felt were, let's say, impolite. The
whole thing just took a few minutes. Then I logged
off of Facebook and went back to work, But as
luck would have it, I started getting inundated with notifications.

My post was getting some serious traction. So I logged
back on and I saw that my post had a
significant amount of comments and likes. My gosh, I'm on
the brink of becoming Facebook famous, I thought, The new
found attention quickly went to my head. I'd felt this
feeling before, back in middle school, when I walked on
campus after winning my first real fistfight. People I didn't

even know were cheering me on. I should have learned
my lesson back then not to bask in random accolades,
but I didn't. I became drunk from the praise. From
there on. It's a bit of a blur, but I
can clearly remember saying to myself, Holy, I'm the laughing
baby video of the day.

Speaker 3 (13:37):
Listen. When opportunity knocks, I opened the door.

Speaker 2 (13:40):
So I proceeded to go on an epic Facebook posting campaign,
slapping a selfie on every political post I saw. I
had a fever, and the only prescription was more selfie.
The original mission had completely gone out the door because
I was blinded by the likes. As I posted self
after selfie of myself on vulgar political rants, I thought

to myself, Wow, I'm trending. There was obviously a pent up,
silent majority that was tired of seeing these leftist hate
tiraids on social media, and I took note. In fact,
it was one of the first clear signs to me
that Trump was going to win. As the day progressed,
I was pleased to see that my guerrilla marketing campaign
continued to generate favorable metrics.

Speaker 3 (14:23):
People seemed to get the joke.

Speaker 2 (14:24):
Friends who hadn't seen in years responded with witty banter
of their own. Some asked if they could share the
post on their pages, and I said yes, I'm happy
to waive my valuable copyright. For the first time in
a long time, I was actually enjoying Facebook, and everyone
seemed to understand that I was trying to share some
light hearted humor on a particularly divisive day. I continued

to ride the wave of accolades for the next few hours,
and at some point, as the notifications began to die down,
I entered into a conversation with my husband Patrick about
how maybe this election cycle wasn't going to be so bad.
When my phone beeps with another Facebook notification. Wow, this
thing's still going, I tell Patrick, But this time a
comment with a completely different tone entered the mix.

Speaker 3 (15:11):
Ah, obviously idiots are everywhere.

Speaker 2 (15:14):
Said a woman named Christine, a parent of twins that
were elementary school classmates of my daughters. She'd left the
comment on one of my selfie posts. I've known Christine
since our children were in preschool together, but as the
years progressed and our children had grown, our relationship had not.
As fate would have it, Christine was not my favorite

person in the world. She was a writer that had
an arrogance about her that didn't quite match her talents.
To give you a feel of where her politics stand,
a portion of the proceeds of her first book went
to Planned Parenthood. She was a triggered leftist. One of
my earliest experiences with her was when our family was
touring private elementary schools. The school that we were touring

had a reputation for being less leftists than the other
private Hollywood schools. Its founding in the nineteen forties was
based on the need for religion in the daily education
of its students Since its birth, though the school had
been inundated with Hollywood types. However, the school's origin story
must have screened conservative to Christine. The tour convened in
the gym, and Christine was sitting in front of me

as the administration played a video showing an array of
children on campus. As we were all watching, Christine blurted
out in a disdainful tone.

Speaker 3 (16:30):
White kid, white kid, white kid.

Speaker 2 (16:33):
Christine was, like most of the Hollywood elites, also white.
Everyone sort of awkwardly shifted in their seats, and a
few people glanced over at my husband and I with
half smiles because oddly Patrick and I were the only
Hispanics in the private school touring circuit, a fact that
everyone knew. It's a small community. We didn't end up
choosing that particular school, but as chance would have it,

both our family and Christine's family chose the same private
elementary school called Oakwood in North Hollywood, and our kids
ended up in the same class. We'd later learn that
Oakwood was a gateway into the Hollywood machine, and anybody
looking to work in Tinseltown that had kids pulled out
all the stops to get into that school. The campus
also doubled is practically a remote satellite office for Democrat fundraisers.

The wealth of the parents lined the pockets of the
I'm with Her campaign, so much so that many families
within the school community were actually on Hillary Clinton's million
dollar donor list. At Oakwood, if you were part of
the Hollywood it crew, then you were golden, and as
it turned out, Christine was part of that clique because
her husband was once the head writer for a little

known show called Friends during its forgettable years.

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Speaker 2 (18:52):
Welcome back to red pilled America. So, like I was saying,
the kids of raging Lefty, Christine and my daughter ended
up being class at a prestigious Hollywood elementary school called Oakwood.

Speaker 3 (19:03):
The school was a gateway.

Speaker 2 (19:05):
Into the Hollywood machine, and the campus practically doubled as
a satellite office for Democrat fundraisers. At Oakwood, if you
were part of the Hollywood a crowd, then you were golden.
And as it turned out, Christine was part of that
clique because her husband was once the head writer of
the sitcom Friends during its forgettable years. His old boss

and show creator, Marta Kaufman, was at one point the
chair of the Oakwood Trustees Board. Marta has a potus
pede here sign inside of one of her home bathrooms
where she hosted a fundraiser in twenty twelve for President
Barack Obama. In other words, these people were connected within
the leftist cult that we call Hollywood. So you get
the flavor of the crowd that we were roaming with

at Oakwood. Honestly, I never cared much about any of
the Hollywood stuff. I've been around enough celebrities to know
that most are not that impressive, But coming from a
background with the very little means, it was clear to
us once we unwittingly entered this cult that Patrick and
I weren't yet accustomed to how they operated. So when
I received the Facebook comment from Christine obviously idiots are everywhere,

as she so eloquently put it, I was stunned. Our
kids were in the same class together. They'd been sharing
the same school for seven years, and they'd likely be
going to school together through the twelfth grade. Christina and
I may not have been chummy, but honestly I was
holding out hope that we'd developed some sort of a friendship.
As far as I was concerned, we were part of

the same tribe. So you can imagine how shocked I
was that this was publicly calling me an idiot for
everyone at Oakwood to see. Our relationship had been in
decline for years. We started off cordially, sharing many many
mutual friends. Our husbands developed a great relationship. She also
hosted an annual Halloween trick or treat party with the

kids and invited our family and our daughter. Christine initially
commended us for calling out a school parent we referred
to as mister Creepy, a dad at our school that
was getting in bed with other people's kids. But when
the twenty twelve election came along, her husband took it
upon himself to email me an election voting guide, basically
telling people how they should cast their ballot in the
upcoming election. You know how people in Hollywood think that

they're better and smarter than us regular Americans. Well, in
case you hadn't gotten the memo, I did, literally, But
because I'm not a deranged leftist, I wasn't offended, just
a little weirded out. Her husband and I had never
discussed politics, and now he was basically telling me how
I should vote, and worse, he was assuming I was
a Democrat. I responded in a politically incorrect way, thinking

he'd appreciate it since he was a comedy writer. So
I responded to his email with something along the lines
of thanks, mih but this brown bean leans right. Given
that the only Mexicans that most people at our school
KNEWE personally were the gardener's nanny, janitors, and day laborers
who most considered democrats. He was likely surprised by my admission.
Christine struggled to maintain social norms with me from then on.

She unfriended me on Instagram, which was somewhat of a
blessing because she curated her feed like a feminist wet dream. Nevertheless,
unfriending is a rather hostile move when it's with someone
you have to see on a daily basis. It's an
act of cold war. My daughter never received another invite
to their Halloween party, which was tough for her because
she had to hear what she missed the following day.

But I continued to maintain a respectful relationship with Christine
because unlike her, I have manners. But the birth of
the Trump candidacy obviously pushed her over the edge. In hindsight,
I think she was patient zero for trumped arrangement syndrome.
She'd later go on to host a Stop Bannon playdate
where parents were asked to bring over their ten year
olds to create artistic postcards to stop the president's chief

strategist who makes leftist propaganda. As a crafting hobby with kids,
that's Rob Reiner weird. So I took a deep breath
and I read Christine's response to my selfie post again
to make sure I was interpreting it correctly and perceiving
it through the lens of my own bias.

Speaker 3 (23:03):
Obviously, idiots are everywhere. Hmm.

Speaker 2 (23:07):
She definitely wasn't making a joke. Christine is humorless. She
makes Rachel Maddow look incurably cheerful. Nope, she's definitely calling
me an idiot. I thought I ran it by my husband.
He agreed. I got a second and third opinion from
others who knew Christine, and everyone concurred she was indeed
publicly disparaging me. This was a million times worse than

being dumped on Instagram. So I thought I'd try a
different tactic. Instead of going full east Side Locachola on her,
As every fiber in my being was screaming, I thought
I'd double down on the funny. I responded to her

with another selfie, but this one was over the top ridiculous.
I used a Snapchat filter that morphed my face into
a gummy wormhead with a gummy worm coming out of
my nose. What I hoped was that she would return
with a comment that said something along the lines of lol,
I hope you didn't think I was talking about you.
I was basically giving her an out, good plan, right wrong. Instead,

she responded, Yep, my heart sunk.

Speaker 3 (24:23):
If there was.

Speaker 2 (24:23):
Any confusion before, there was none now because she just
confirmed that Yep, I'm calling you an idiot. Hmm, thanks
for clearing that up. This may come as a surprise
to people who've never been in a conflict with me,
but I am a proud ghetto card holder. Granted it's
been a long time since it's seen the light of day,

but in the blink of an eye, I can go
from zero too. Oh no, you did it, hood rat.
But honestly, that was the last thing I wanted because
our kids shared a class together. So I decided to
move the conversation offline and email Christine privately as a courtesy.
I'm not going to ask you this on Facebook. Are
you calling me an idiot?

Speaker 3 (25:04):
I asked.

Speaker 2 (25:05):
We had a bit of a back and forth, and
she made some excuse about Trump and Russia and attempted
to turn the tables, claiming that I obviously misinterpreted her
comment and that she wasn't interested in any drama. Now
she wasn't only disparaging me in public, she was also
attempting to insult my intelligence in private. So I responded,
if you aren't interested in drama, why would you publicly

insinuate then I'm an idiot. So I'll ask you again,
were you or were you not calling me an idiot?

Speaker 3 (25:34):

Speaker 9 (25:34):
Or no.

Speaker 2 (25:35):
I've had email exchanges with Christine in the past, and
you can always tell when her husband takes control of
the steering wheel because the tone in the response typically
takes a notable more rational shift.

Speaker 9 (25:46):
She responded, is there something else going on that is
upsetting you? You were obviously an intelligent person, no need
for public name calling. I will happily delete that comment
with apologies if it means this conversation can end.

Speaker 2 (26:00):
A few minutes later, she deleted all previous Facebook comments
and inserts a simple note that said sincerest apologies. So
my work was done. The next morning, I woke up
ready to move on from my previous night's debacle, but
there was a new email in my inbox. It's from
Christine Uugh. She declares that she feels terrible about our

exchange and that the idiot's comment was not meant to
be about me, But when I responded with my gummy
worm selfie, she thought it felt very aggressive. You know what, Yeah,
gummy worms, they really do scream toxic masculinity. It was
quite the concoction of half truths in historical revision that
I almost admired in its creativity. She ended by asking

if I would meet her at the park outside of
summer school the next day to talk about it. I
agreed to meet. I'm a big believer in hashing things
out face to face, something that I learned about myself
at a young age. When I was in Catholic school,
we had to go confession once a week. I had
the choice of confessing my sins to the priest in

one of two ways. Either to sit behind the screen
so that the priest could not see my face, which
gives your confession some privacy, or I could do it
face to face with the priest looking him dead in
the eyes. While I confessed my sins, I never went
behind the screen. I considered it to be a huge
sign of weakness. I felt like God respected those who

had the balls to show their mug and say, Father Michael.
I lied to my parents, even though I said I
wouldn't do it again. Last week, I also shaved my
legs without my mom's permission after she specifically told me
I wasn't allowed. That's why I'm wearing these legwarmers in
ninety degree weather. As day two, if the Democrat Convention progressed,

the DNC leak scandal was reaching a peak. Walls had
to be put up to block the Bernie Sanders followers
from pots testing at the doors of the DNC, but
the mainstream media was largely staying away from the chaos.
You had to watch people like journalist Mike Cernovich's periscope
feed to get a feel for what was really happening
on the ground.

Speaker 3 (28:11):
Do you think what you want?

Speaker 8 (28:13):
There's a lot of people here, So I'm gonna give
you a tour of this park that we're at by
the convention center, just so you can get a sense
of how many people are here.

Speaker 2 (28:23):
To counter Hillary Clinton and her mainstream media, Lackey's decided
to step up their rhetoric, pushing heavily the idea that
Russia hacked their email server to help the Republican nominee
Donald Trump. I.

Speaker 5 (28:35):
Meanwhile, top Democrats blaming Russia for a hack that released
thousands of emails from the Democratic National Committee. Secretary of
Saint John Kerry this morning raised the issue with Russia's
foreign minister, the Russian scop that reports Muscos behind the hack.
The Clinton campaign has pointed to a so called romance
with Russian President Vladimir Putin, something Trump has touted for

more than a year.

Speaker 1 (28:58):
Wouldn't it be nice if we actually did get along
with Russia?

Speaker 2 (29:02):
The Democrats had released the Kraken, and if you were
in a far left enclave like my husband and I,
you felt the increase in vitriol immediately. The Democrats had
gotten their marching orders, find and attack all Trump supporters.
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today and help us save America one story at a time.
Welcome back. So I found myself frightened for what was
to come because the Democrats had released the Kraken, and
if you were in a far left enclave like my

husband and I, you felt the increase in vitriol immediately.
The Democrats had gotten their marching orders find and attack
all Trump supporters. This was a landmark moment for Facebook
and launched what could be thought of as the unfriend
me Now movement. One mother at Oakwood Brook highlighted this

phenomenon well with her post.

Speaker 4 (30:05):
I understood why people liked Romney and McCain. I understood
why people voted for both Bushes and Reagan, but now
things have turned crazy. If you support Trump. Unfriended me
because I believe that if you support Trump, something is
deeply wrong with you.

Speaker 2 (30:25):
Notably, Brook, the daughter of two very prominent playwrights, was
buddies with the creepies parents at Oakwood that we had
called out because the dad of their family was getting
in bed with other people's kids. Apparently kid cuddling wasn't
unfriend me worthy for Brook, but vote for Trump now
that was just a bridge too far. But her unfriend
me post got me to thinking about other things that

I'd seen on Facebook. So I began rifling through other
people's pages and learned quickly that many of the parents
at the school were talking about yours truly openly for
everyone to see. It turned out I didn't even have
to talk about politics. The mere fact that I posted
selfies against political mudslinging was somehow an act in support

of Trump. I'd worked my entire life to be a
part of this community. I worked my way out of poverty.
I was the first in my clan to make it
through college, started a successful advertising business with my husband,
then landed my daughter at one of the most prestigious
private schools in California, if not the country. I'd done
everything right, and now these people, the same ones that

pretend to be the tolerant ones looking up for minorities,
were treating me as if I'd done something wrong and
I deserved to be punished. Their sharp words managed to
cut and wound me. What hurt most was that this
was a collective effort, a bloodthirsty gang who'd banded together
based on their belief that there was something deeply wrong
with me. The intent was understood, then shared so others

can join in. I felt small and alone. It was
about then that I got a text message from another
Oakwood parent, one of the few that I considered to
be a friend. Our families were slated to go on
vacation together in Mexico in one short week.

Speaker 3 (32:06):
The text read, somehow people think you're a huge Trump supporter.
Did you post something? Brooke just asked me after I
posted something saying how I am disgusted and silently unfriend
Trump supporters, And then she texted me and asked me
if you were supporting Trump and that's what people are
telling her.

Speaker 2 (32:22):
Believe me when I say that the line about being
disgusted and silently unfriending Trump supporters landed pretty hard. I
think it's fair to say that I have thick skin
and that I'm not really the feel sorry for me type. However,
everyone has their limits. We'd lost a good amount of
friends after calling out the kid cuddler mister Creepy. Good
riddance to anyone defending that creep, But then others peeled

off after missus Creepy began a campaign promoting that we
were conservatives. The last remaining friends in our Oakwood community
had been hanging on by a thread. Being a Trump
supporter would likely be the straw that broke the camel's
back for anyone remaining Again, Patrick and I weren't worried
about that. For ourselves, we were concerned that our daughter
would become even more isolated. We all want to be

accepted but at what costs. I ultimately came to the
conclusion that I had to be true to my beliefs.
These Oakwood people.

Speaker 3 (33:14):
Were not my tribe.

Speaker 2 (33:16):
Better to speak the truth than live ali. So I
pulled myself up from my bootstraps and I responded to
the text, questioning if I was a Trump supporter, in
what universe is it okay for Brooke to ask you
a question like that about me? So basically, people think
and are saying, that we're racist, homophobic, xenophobic, and misogynistic.
Two Mexican Americans who worked their way out of poverty

were the ones that people have decided to shun and target.
People should think twice before going on which hunts. I'm
superfunded and Brooke is in for a root awakening. Anything
less than a complete rejection of Trump meant we were maga,
and I knew that the verse was swift. One of

the last remaining families that we considered to be friends
at Oakwood canceled their Mexico vacation with us, claiming one
of their kids fell sick, then quickly planned a Hillary
Clinton fundraising bake sale. They wanted to show everyone they
weren't with us, They were with her. Apparently our conservative
stink had gotten on them and they needed to cleanse themselves.

News spread fast that we were maga, and most of
our remaining Oakwood friends ran faster than Anna and Navarro,
seeking in all you can eat buffet. The next morning,
I was slated to meet with Christine, so I put
on my game face and prepared for the worse, because
who knew, maybe this Christine woman was going to ambush
me at the park. I thought back to my middle

school days and channeled my inner Bruce Lee. As I
walked up to greet her, I noticed that despite how
attractive she was, she had that look of constipation, you
know what I'm talking about, a look of deep discomfort.
She couldn't hide her disgust from me. Christina's tall and slender,
with pale skin. Her dirty blonde hair was cut into

a short bob that framed her face, and her lips
were pursed so tightly that they resembled well Ananus. The
irony was not lost on me that her personality aligned
well with her looking like a She immediately began by
patronizing me with a speech about how regular people have

a hard time understanding her method of communication. Uh, no,
I understood. You were calling me an idiot, I thought,
As she continued with her gas lighting, The middle school
martial artist in me was on the brink of pouncing.
But I took comfort in the fact that I, whom
many of her ilk think of as the help, had
my child in the same prestigious private school as hers

after coming from nothing while many of them started on
third base. I've been stepping to and disposing of people
like her for years to come out of poverty, and
now I was going to beat her using her rule.
Christine had shown me her cards years ago. White kid,
white kid, white kid was with this elite, white leftist,
said while on a tour of private schools. As I

opened my mouth to respond, I realized it was time
to pull the left stone favorite choice of weapon.

Speaker 3 (36:17):
The race card.

Speaker 2 (36:19):
As a privileged white woman, Christine, you can't possibly understand
the challenges and cultural bias that I face on a
daily basis as a first generation American of Mexican descent,
I opened with venom. Look around, do you see any
other parents in the class that looked like me? And
you have the audacity to ridicule me for being different?

How dare you The look of shock on her face
was priceless. A little brown woman was throwing identity politics
right back in her feminist face. For the record, I
despise the race card, but when an elite white Hollywood
lefftist calls you an idiot because of your politics, it's

time to make them play by their own rules. The
fact that I was a Latina and a Trump supporter
was more than these leftists could bear, because I shatter
every narrative they hold so dear by the time I
finished cashing in my race card, she devolved into a
stuttering fool.

Speaker 3 (37:19):
I'm sorry, she babbled. I can only imagine how you feel.

Speaker 9 (37:24):
You're right.

Speaker 4 (37:24):
You're right, we.

Speaker 3 (37:25):
Need more diversity around here. I couldn't agree with you more.

Speaker 2 (37:33):
I left our little encounter feeling energized. I say live
and let live, but if a leftist comes at me,
I'm going to return fire. And I played a win.
No apologies made. I will never bend the knee, and
neither should you, which brings us back to the question

how do you handle a triggered leftist? The answer is
you make them play by their own rules. When an
unhinged liberal or arrogant planned parenthood loving author tries to
shame you for your beliefs. Do not go gentle into
the night. Fight, claw back with whatever you have at

your disposal, use the rules they created against them, and
if you feel like having a little fun, you can
always mock them with the story about a selfie.

Speaker 1 (38:27):
Red Pilled America is Nheartradio original podcast. It's produced by me,
Patrick Currelci and Adriana Cortez for Infirm Ventures. Now, our
entire archive of episodes is only available to backstage subscribers.
To subscribe, visit Redpilled America dot com and click support
at the topmenu. That's Redpilled America dot com and click
support at the topmenu. Thanks for listening.
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