In some cultures crotch droppings are mostly thought of as a commodity. Slaves, so to speak. Or future slaves rather, since before they're capable of full mobility and speech; they're basically parasites.
I think that's low. That's the Old World way, huh?
So why does it amuse me so when they commit suicide or something right before they become earning potential feed baskets?
If these people had half a brain, they'd disown their families as fast as possible.
I wasn't considered a commodity, but that's what I did. Some deserve disavowment, the rest not; but I don't need any waste of time liabilities in my life who I have nothing in common with. I consider anyone who might even take up five seconds of my time with an unwanted phone call, so hey. . .
