RWDS
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RWDS
Right Wing Death Squad – Used as a hashtag on Twitter by racist / fascist Donald Trump supporters to call for the creation of said squad.
Also used to call for deportation, burning, killing, etc. of non-white or non-american people.
Often seen in combination with the hashtags trumptrain and MAGA.
For a lesson on how history repeats itself, read up on the Pogroms of the 19th and 20th century – particularly the Kristallnacht and the Nazi German death squads.
Also used to call for deportation, burning, killing, etc. of non-white or non-american people.
Often seen in combination with the hashtags trumptrain and MAGA.
For a lesson on how history repeats itself, read up on the Pogroms of the 19th and 20th century – particularly the Kristallnacht and the Nazi German death squads.
@7thHouseOfK: "@amyschumer @Lin_Manuel time to go Amy, of your own volition to another country, or to the ovens in this one. #RWDS #MAGA"
RWDS by the-unknown-observer November 14, 2016
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress
"Militarily, that inquest was a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress by Rok'n'rol Wannabe October 19, 2006
Word of the Day on June 2, 2026
fogey
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)