A Conmunity is when your whole trailerhood in the Inland Empire (go figure, a bunch of dopes decided to separate from
California, who just beat out Germany as the "World's Fourth Largest economy") is controlled by a minion of little snitch
bitches who get paid by the San Bernardino Sheriff's Department, under "head" Sheriff Shannon Dickisus/Coroner; a situation where you are the pioneer, and every one around you is a hostile Native American (Hey, as a relative of Alexander
Hamilton, Andrew Jackson, Calvin Coolidge, and William Jefferson Blytheaka, the guy who was President twice
like Obama, and your one guy, a white guy, in the middle of the sights of a circular firing squad,
quack commandos who are supposed to be your "neighbors" but just keep ratting on you, spying on your every movement, and calling their "handler's when you go to the mailbox, or fart, or whatever!
Here in the so-called "empire," my trailerhood is a "conmunity" of rat-bastards, petty little
bitches,
scum-slurping paid informants for the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department; each paid informant relays the information of this author's every movement, fart sound, or throbbing sounds that might emanate from my rectangular,
single-wide, domicile.