Fall down seven, get up eight.
Lol Black people will call your ass OUT!
My brother did this to my dad and his reaction was PRICELESS. The first and last time he farted directly in my dad’s face. Lol, lesson learned.
Naps are tricky because you either wake up refreshed and relaxed or you have a headache, dry throat, and are unaware of what year you’re in.
FUCK YEAH, SAVE THE EAGLES!
FUCKING THIS OH MY GOD.
“Finish your fucking drink before you refill it…”
I have a lot of varying comments on and about the topic and subject of abortions, and a number of other controversial issues, but I do have to voice my anger at those who are adamant about anti-abortions, but then are no where to be found once the child is actually born.
Pro-choice. Pro-contraceptives. Pro-I wish more than half the people I went to school with had been rendered infertile because the rate at which they are having children—who will struggle and be no more successful and a “benefit to society” as their parents is an atrocity, because we are still hinged on some tried again, archaic believe that having children is supposed to justify our existence, morph and transform us and give meaning to lives that never before had any real meaning.
I have a nagging bone to pick with those (specifically females) who all of a sudden declare that they are forever changed by the birth of their child(ren). Who feed into rapturously, the idea that they have reached some sort of higher state of Enlightenment in having a child. Who become these Stepford-like wives and mothers who dig up the image of Susie Homemaker and proudly (and arrogantly) wrap her flaying apron strings around their waist, mere years from sticking their own heads in the stove when they finally realize their fault. It just baffles me—and maybe, for the sake of argument, my ideas will change but that will be a tragic day in history if that ever becomes the case. If I ever do have children of my own (since I already favor adopting, which is another issue all in its own) I don’t want them to EVER be some sort of completing factor of my life, but rather an enhancer—someone who is along for the ride who I can mold and shape in a way in which they will be thinkers, innovators, and dreamers. Not an indentured slave who is obligated to take care of me in my old age. Not some carbon copy of myself who does not think, act, or believe for themselves. Not a lot of things. And someone who I have given the chance and opportunity to be so much more than I ever was.