If I
If I

If I

Even
Even

Even

About
About

About

Put
Put

Put

Also
Also

Also

Are
Are

Are

Was
Was

Was

After
After

After

While
While

While

Come Up
Come Up

Come Up

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Advice, Anna, and Dad: You're the mother, he's That's not what l've been told but... the father. He has as much right to take that child as you do. ns Well, if you've gotten different advice, you Okay. were mistaken. ..including judges and probation officers, who still don't get that message... In this country, fathers are not second-class citizens. I know there are a lot of people out there... ...but fathers are not Not always. Sometimes second-class citizens. it's 50-50 but it's a Sometimes they're actually better parents. case-by-case basis. But anybody that says.it's not yours. It's both to me 'he can't take my of yours. You made her daughter with him... together. gaylibertariansc: queer-anna: matriarchyforeveryone: michaelam1978: I love this! Judge Judy schools a naïve and obviously disappointed mom who thinks dad doesn’t have any right to their child. The mother carried that girl nine months in her stomach and then pushed her out of her body. No, the father does NOT have even remotely the same rights to the child as the mother! My mother carried me for nine months in her stomach and then pushed me out of her body. My mother also got drunk and refused to feed me or my three siblings and forced my oldest brother to cook for us while she was passed-out drunk on the couch. My father has fought for us for as long as I can remember, while my mother was busy getting drinking straight-vodka and brainwashing us to think my father was the evil one. I nearly starved at age 6 because my mother was too drunk to cook half of the time. I had to dress my 4 year old sister for school, at age six. I had to walk in heavy snow at age 6 with my 4 year old sister to a bus stop to ride to school. My father has fought a long, long time to get custody of us. He deeply loves us. My mother has never, ever done anything like that. She has never nursed me when I had the flu, or kissed me goodnight, or told me she loved me. She has never taught me how to tie my shoes, or how to brush my hair, or how to take care of myself. Yes, my mother carried me, and three other kids, to term and successfully gave birth, but only has my father put 100% of his life into something that should require two people to do. Still a good one
Advice, Anna, and Dad: You're the mother, he's
 That's not what l've
 been told but...
 the father. He has as
 much right to take that
 child as you do.
 ns

 Well, if you've gotten
 different advice, you
 Okay.
 were mistaken.

 ..including judges and
 probation officers, who
 still don't get that
 message...
 In this country, fathers
 are not second-class
 citizens. I know there
 are a lot of people out
 there...

 ...but fathers are not
 Not always. Sometimes
 second-class citizens.
 it's 50-50 but it's a
 Sometimes they're
 actually better parents.
 case-by-case basis.

 But anybody that says.it's not yours. It's both
 to me 'he can't take my of yours. You made her
 daughter with him...
 together.
gaylibertariansc:
queer-anna:

matriarchyforeveryone:


michaelam1978:
I love this! Judge Judy schools a naïve

 and obviously disappointed mom who thinks dad doesn’t have any right to their child.
The mother carried that girl nine months in her stomach and then pushed her out of her body. No, the father does NOT have even remotely the same rights to the child as the mother!


My mother carried me for nine months in her stomach and then pushed me out of her body. 
My mother also got drunk and refused to feed me or my three siblings and forced my oldest brother to cook for us while she was passed-out drunk on the couch. 
My father has fought for us for as long as I can remember, while my mother was busy getting drinking straight-vodka and brainwashing us to think my father was the evil one. 
I nearly starved at age 6 because my mother was too drunk to cook half of the time. I had to dress my 4 year old sister for school, at age six. I had to walk in heavy snow at age 6 with my 4 year old sister to a bus stop to ride to school. 
My father has fought a long, long time to get custody of us. He deeply loves us. My mother has never, ever done anything like that. She has never nursed me when I had the flu, or kissed me goodnight, or told me she loved me. She has never taught me how to tie my shoes, or how to brush my hair, or how to take care of myself. 
Yes, my mother carried me, and three other kids, to term and successfully gave birth, but only has my father put 100% of his life into something that should require two people to do. 


Still a good one

gaylibertariansc: queer-anna: matriarchyforeveryone: michaelam1978: I love this! Judge Judy schools a naïve and obviously disappointed ...

Apparently, Ass, and Drunk: snarling-through-our-smiles I once lost my keys at a frat house. My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully- disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out do not remember The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I'd never been at a frat house in broad daylight before. A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. "I lost my keys in here last night, I called back. "I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?" He opened the door and gestured for me o come in. "Go wherever you want." I'd never seen a frat house post-party Derore. Wandering up the stairs a by hungover and still-drunk frat boys sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I'm sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination. I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller- esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed. "Do you like dog movies?" he asked, voice from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket. I told him I did. e mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking my keys. "Sorry, I haven't seen any keys around bere I didn't doubt him. Twenty minutes had passed. I'd searched just about every bedroom and nuclear- at dumn-site of a bathroom in that house. I'd given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates' forgiveness and get a new set copied. As I stood there in the hallway, silently a particularly burly frat boy approached me. "You need help with something? "I lost my keys here last night and I can't find them, I've looked everywhere. "What do they look like? I'll put it into the group chat. He was already pulling out his phone. No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. "Um, it's just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can't miss He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat. "Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck. e turned and left. And with that, A few moments later, I heard a distant and it was getting louder and louder, One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me. "Someone tell the girl!" One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. "Girl! Hey, GIRL! We found your keys, girl!!! They circled around me. I hadn't felt that old, One of them split himself off from the crowd. "Are these -"he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, "your keys? And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring. "Yes,"I whispered. "Oh my god, yes." "EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YYYYYYYYYY!!" The cheer went up. Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of "no problems" and then, just suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night. gatorfisch THIS is boys will be boys Nice Frathouse
Apparently, Ass, and Drunk: snarling-through-our-smiles
 I once lost my keys at a frat house.
 My drunk ass had actually walked home
 without them, pounded on my apartment
 door, gotten let in by my rightfully-
 disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to
 pass out on the couch. Apparently I
 puked in the toilet before passing out
 do not remember
 The next morning, I schlepped back to the
 frat house. I stood there, right in front of
 the front door. This was a novel
 experience for me. I'd never been at a frat
 house in broad daylight before.
 A boy, presumably, of the house, asked
 me what I was doing.
 "I lost my keys in here last night, I called
 back. "I was seeing if I could go in and
 look for them?"
 He opened the door and gestured for me
 o come in.
 "Go wherever you want."
 I'd never seen a frat house post-party
 Derore. Wandering up the stairs a
 by
 hungover and still-drunk frat boys
 sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food
 and showers like moths to a porch light.
 A few of them threw puzzled glances my
 way. I'm sure they thought I was some
 post-bacchanalia hallucination.
 I entered one room where a boy was
 drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-
 esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of
 his room from his bed.
 "Do you like dog movies?" he asked, voice
 from the fact that his face was squished
 against his pillow and half-buried by his
 blanket.
 I told him I did.
 e mumbled again, pleased, and asked
 what I was doing. I told him I was looking
 my keys.
 "Sorry, I haven't seen any keys around
 bere
 I didn't doubt him.
 Twenty minutes had passed. I'd searched
 just about every bedroom and nuclear-
 at dumn-site of a bathroom in that
 house. I'd given up on ever finding my
 keys and was prepared to beg my
 roommates' forgiveness and get a new
 set copied.
 As I stood there in the hallway, silently
 a particularly
 burly frat boy approached me.
 "You need help with something?
 "I lost my keys here last night and I can't
 find them, I've looked everywhere.
 "What do they look like? I'll put it into the
 group chat. He was already pulling out
 his phone.
 No one ever checks a group chat, I
 thought, but what the hell. It was worth a
 shot. "Um, it's just a ring of keys. The
 keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like
 yea big. Like bright pink, you can't miss
 He nodded, presumably typing this
 description faithfully into the group chat.
 "Alright, I sent the message out. Good
 luck.
 e turned and left.
 And with that,
 A few moments later, I heard a distant
 and it was getting louder and louder, One
 assumes that how I felt in that moment
 was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest
 stampede through the ravine as a horde
 large young men all thundered down
 the stairs, making a beeling for me.
 "Someone tell the girl!" One of them
 shouted, faceless in the mob. "Girl! Hey,
 GIRL! We found your keys, girl!!!
 They circled around me. I hadn't felt that
 old, One of them split himself off from
 the crowd.
 "Are these -"he pulled out a ring of keys
 from his pocket, "your keys?
 And lo, there was the distinctive bright
 millennial pink cat keychain dangling off
 the ring.
 "Yes,"I whispered. "Oh my god, yes."
 "EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
 YYYYYYYYYY!!"
 The cheer went up.
 Turns out he found them in the bathroom
 upstairs. I thanked them again profusely.
 There was a scattered round of "no
 problems" and then, just
 suddenly as
 they descended, they all dispersed, like
 ships in the night.
 gatorfisch
 THIS is boys will be boys
Nice Frathouse

Nice Frathouse