Splendid if you don’t mind zooming and eating and playing on the backs of slave labor. http://www.vice.com/read/slaves-of… so go ahead, and say “who cares? it’s FUN!”

“Mistakes” happen all the time with rape. For instance, the time a teenager reported being violently raped by a stranger, and the police didn’t believe her and charged her with false reporting, for which she was convicted. And then years later, the police a serial rapist who documented all his rapes and found a…

I have had it with these mother-f*cking TRUMPS on this mother-f*cking INTERNET!

No hearing aids, he likes people who can hear perfectly. In fact, he likes people who can echolocate, like a bat. Not those dolphins, dolphins are for losers.

Sam Jackson can squish Trumpo like a bug

If you think SLJ does too many commercials, you probably watch too much television.

Also, I like that trump is to inept to avoid commercials.

Donald, when you accuse Samuel L Jackson of being “boring,” you have, officially, gone too god damn far, motherfucker.

My 8 year old niece recently forged several notes to/from her parents. (E.g., a note to her dad, “from” her mom that she was allowed to watch a movie because she had been really good.)

I’ll never understand a teacher hating on a kid. I know that they can be little assholes sometimes, but still. My 5th grade teacher hated me to the extent that all the other kids noticed and cringed every time he made me the butt of his jokes. Joke was on him in the end, I was the class champion speller and he…

OMG...the SRA. The only highlight of my elementary school career.

Wow, blast from the past there. I remember SRAs! I always wanted to get to the end of the box (don’t remember which colors were which sadly). Only got to the next-to-last color but still was happy for myself. Haven’t thought of those since the 80s...

Wait... Holy hell. On a whim I looked up SRA ‘The Laugher.’ It explains so much now... It was a short-short written by Heinrich Boll, and about a man who is such a good laugher it becomes his job to laugh. Consequently, he looses the capacity for joy, and unless getting paid, cannot laugh.

When I was 6, Sister Agnes, my piano teacher, “wrote” (in block letters) a letter to my mom extolling my many virtues as a pianist, what a champ I was at running my scales, doing my exercises, memorizing my pieces, etc. My mom framed it because the last sentence read, “And if you don’t receive this letter, please let…

Wasn’t it the best? I credit my reading comprehension to it 100%.

I REMEMBER THE SRA READING SYSTEM!

aw, thank you!

That teacher is clearly insane because you are fucking delightful.

I have the dark dysfunctional flip side to this story (but don’t worry, the outcome was extra ice cream and a story). When I was in third grade the teacher sent home a note that had to be signed (for a class trip, I believe). I was late handing it in because my parents were away. The next morning after they came home…