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bizarre Section 8 Mom
- Thread starter ZeroK
- Start date
Whitechapel Jack
Well Known Member
Tax payers should be given the name and addresses of welfare bludgers they are supporting.
8Jewminator8
Sinkpisser
Niggers like this should be killed. Goverment aid is aid. Not to life off of. Jesus
Vic_
Vintage. Slightly used. Mostly original parts.
What a shitty mom. He's trying to break the cycle, and all she cares about is herself. Props to him for trying. Hopefully he doesn't give up.
Brownpickles
Forum Veteran
Can thank dumbacrats for this nigger mentality. 60 plus years in the making
"'Look here.'
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
'Oh Man! Look here. Look, look down here!' exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and a girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish but prostrate too in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say, they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
'Spirit! Are they yours?' Scrooge could say no more.
'They are Man's,' said the Spirit, looking down upon them. 'And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!' cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. 'Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!'
'Have they no refuge or resource?' cried Scrooge.
'Are there no Prisons?' said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. 'Are there no Workhouses?'
The bell struck Twelve."
Excerpt from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (1843)
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
'Oh Man! Look here. Look, look down here!' exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and a girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish but prostrate too in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched and twisted them and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say, they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
'Spirit! Are they yours?' Scrooge could say no more.
'They are Man's,' said the Spirit, looking down upon them. 'And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!' cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. 'Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!'
'Have they no refuge or resource?' cried Scrooge.
'Are there no Prisons?' said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. 'Are there no Workhouses?'
The bell struck Twelve."
Excerpt from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (1843)
We need a special Nigger-Flamethrower for that motel room.
Retarded looking bitch
angelsbreath
Well Known Member
Ice next round up.
angelsbreath
Well Known Member
Ice next round up.
I saw that. It’s fake. But it’s also reality and why niggers stay down
I mean, she's obviously half monkey... what job can a monkey hold?
And white men allowed the joos to drag those subhumans to America, so this is the result... chickens (monkeys)coming home to roost, so to speak
FuckYourPronouns
Well Known Member
Shitbird of a parent.
Beautiful mama, crackhead bitch chicken head, so literate in her ignorance, too. Sorry dude, Skankma got to go!
Holy shiiiiiiiiit!
