Here's a story about a 29-year old grandmother in Quad Cities, IA....the person on the right....uhhh, I think.
Look, I'm all in favor of helping cruel stereotyping disappear from our society, but come on, folks. Help out a little, would ya? What? You have a lake of semen in the backyard?
Russell Eugene is 1 day old.
His mother is 15.
She fidgets with a bottle of milk as she talks.
Then, sitting up straighter in bed, she asks, “When do you think I can play basketball again? I want to go out for the team at school.”
New vocabulary word: NEVER. It means, "not ever."
Back at home with her mother and brothers, Celia — wearing pajamas and a do-rag that covers her hair — holds the baby. Her tank top shows off two black tattoos on her arms.
One, which winds down her forearm, reads “Tish,” her mom’s nickname. Another, below her shoulder, reads “Manica Magee,” which is the teen’s rap name.
Leticia told the girl she could get inked if she kept her grades up. They went to Chicago to get it done.
“She earned them,” Leticia said, nodding her head.
It's like watching the Munsters where everything horrific is perfectly normal.
"Oh, Herman. Eddie got a D in math, so I let him dig up the graveyard. Isn't that wonderful?"
"HAWHAWHAW...Lilly, that boy is a chip off the old slab...HAWAHAWHAWHAW."
(house shakes, ceiling tiles and dust fall, never to be replaced)