To Ride out the Pain

As I read the news, all the things that happened to the famous people, happened to us. My little niece had a baby to live for only one month.  Something about triglycerides.  It was awful at the funeral, seeing the poor baby laid out on a pillow.

Last summer, my  2nd cousin got stabbed in a fight up and Maryvale Missouri, in a situation that should have never happened.  This happened a little college town, for Pete’s sake.   He seems a good kid, basketball player, was making good grades, then this ghetto shit.   I’m sitting here now with a big scar on my shoulder from the rotator cuff surgery.  My sister was on a ventilator, from October 18, to about December 21, 2011.  She went in for exploratory surgery, she went in for exploratory surgery, and woke up on the ventilator.

The IRS is after, just about everyone.  Everyone that makes nothing, that is.  Bambi was working at the Churches Chicken, and decided she’d be clever and not file her income tax.  She was making about 17,000 a year.  The IRS was all over her ass, seizing her bank account.  They are without mercy, they would take the candy from a fuckin baby.  They make, the FBI and CIA look like “Andy of Mayberry.”

I am going to get a permanent tattoo of “This too shall pass.”

I especially like the “sex scandals.”  There are people running around this ‘hood with 5 or 6 kids, never did get married.  Two America’s?  There are about 100 different Americas.   And 99 of them SUCK.

It is like a horror story.  There is so much grief in this world , I do not understand why people want to go around and look for more.  Granted,  they are pissed off, I can understand that.  I can’t understand Osama bin Laden, who inherits $3,000,000,  and decides he wants to go start some shit.  I wish that money would come my way!  I’d learn how to sail a Hobie cat.  Then, I think I get my own catamaran, maybe.  That pain?  You’ve just got to ride that out.

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