See? Once you know the stories, it’s not that bad. First marriage: Wife’s hidden sexuality. Not my fault. Second marriage: Said the wrong name at the altar… a little my fault. Third marriage: Well, they really shouldn’t allow you to get married when you’re that drunk and have writing all over your face. Nevada’s fault.
before this party a poc on this campus couldn’t even think the word “racism” without being accused of crying wolf. but just like it took a SANDRA BLAND, a TRAYVON MARTIN, and a PHILANDO CASTILE to wake some folks up, this party is what it took to wake this campus up. look. i sent the invite. i wrote it, broke into pastiche’s account, and sent it. it was fascinating to see what was lurking beneath the surface when you were given an excuse to suspend your polite, passive liberalism. i considered it a sociological experiment. and guess what. you proved my point. WINCHESTER, WE GOT A PROBLEM.
I’m sick of the teenage “forbidden romance”. I’m so tired of kids running around and sneaking away from their parents, and parents saying stuff like “I forbid you from seeing that boy!!!!”
I want supportive parents! Happy parents who see their kid likes somebody and says “How wonderful! What a nice boy! Have him over for dinner!”
And I want parents who love their kid’s significant others, because they love their kid!