On my 33rd birthday, my mother - who is disabled, and was living with me as her sole caregiver at the time - gave me a birthday card that outlined her great disappointment in “how [I] turned out.” I kept it as a reminder of how far the pendulum swings.

My mom tried to run me over with her car at Christmas and I have only spoken to her once since then. And somehow I feel like the piece of shit in this whole situation.

So this is an article blasting an article and a comment on that article decrying that article?

Floyd got confused. He forgot you hug women and punch boxers, not the other way around.