THEN YOU DON’T GET TO GO TO THE FUCKING PARTY, YOU STINKING SACK OF SHIT!
The story says she gave him a pillow and sleeping bag. Boy, kids these days. When I was young, we didn’t get any pillows, no sir. Fourteen of us, all in that trunk for days at a time. We got so hungry we ate the spare tire, and we liked it!
At least you got a spare tire. We got a can of puncture sealant, and it was empty! And we liked it!
Oh, weren’t you mother’s little darling. A trunk with a spare tire. Namby-pamby softies, I call the lot of you.
When my mum wanted to go out and get snockered, she used to leave the 27 of us in a paper sack in a field. In the snow. From All Souls Day until she sobered up (if we were lucky it would be by 23 February). With nothing to eat but the maggots we were able to pull out of each other’s festering sores.
Kids today have it soft, I tell you…
I swear, when I saw that story, my first thought was, “Hey, at least she didn’t cut the kid’s arms off…”
A SACK? You had a sack, you coddled little prince. Oh, what I would have given for a warm paper sack. We had a leaf. That’s right, one thin leaf for the thirty of us. And we didn’t get maggots to eat, no siree, not for us. We had to eat sticks and pebbles…
We used to dream of having sticks and pebbles…
You had dreams ?
Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o’clock at night half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got to the trunk of the car, our mother and her boyfriend would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.
Couldn’t tell the kids that nowadays.
They wouldn’t believe you…
You had the ability to desire!?!? Oh my lord, what I would have given to want anything, even dreams! But NOOOOO, instead I was shut away in a sensory deprivation chamber, incapable of comprehending anything due to a total lack of cognitive stimulation! What I would have given to want something!!
They didn’t have sensory deprivation units when I was little!
Oh, boohoohoo Mr. Fancy-Schmancy Sensory deprivation chamber! I just had my eyes and ears duct taped shut with tacks on the inside of the duct tape! Then I was tossed into a river! In January! Then I was shot!
This is my favorite bit:
"*Powell’s lawyer, Mary Ellen Attridge, said Powell exercised bad judgment, but that she and Faria otherwise have taken good care of the boy. “She has been a very good mother,” Attridge said.
The boy is living with a foster family, but Powell is attending parenting and substance-abuse programs and is working to regain custody, Attridge said.*"
What the heck? That she should ever be allowed to be near any child pisses me off.
Bad Judgement? Bad Judgement!?
BTW, you are all pansies. We had 376 of us buried inder the field. Nothing to eat except the insides of our own mouths. Nothing to drink except out own bile. We had to work 49 hours a day for the privilege, and we LOVED it. We would, all of us, died to have been shot.
You’re all too late. Governor Quinn’s post ended the joke
They have jokes nowadays?
No it didn’t.
That’s not an argument, that’s contradiction.
No it isn’t.