Posted on 05/30/2016 6:29:06 PM PDT by EinNYC
It’s the fault of the NRA that law-abiding citizens own guns that America’s indigenous urban peoples can steal and kill each other with.
They’re as inbred as the muzzies !
Some real critical thinkers there. No ability whatsoever to separate base emotion from the stress demands of a civil society. Nothing but animals roaming outside their cages.
Are there going to press conferences and protests like what is going on over the death of the gorilla.
This was not a fight over spilled juice.
This was the Smelleys assaulting and attempted to murder someone...
How, exactly, would one determine just how inbred they are?
From looking at the photos in the article nobody will be surprised.
“Makanzee,Antoine, Cleveland,Deonta”
Imagine being stuck with Smelley for a surname.
.
Very sad the 2 year old had to die over a trivial dispute.
We’ll never know if this outcome could have been far less likely if the Smelley family had spelled their name a little differently. Seriously. It cannot be an easy life for any schoolboy being known as ‘My Name Is SMELLEY’ kids can be cruel. “R.U. Smelley?”
I was going to remark on that.
When I was a kid I heard about a game called “The Dozens”. For some reason, I’ve been told about this game about 50 times in my life. I take it that this game is very well known, and very old. It consists of insulting the other person relentlessly, back-and-forth, until someone “wins”.
It’s a Black thing.
I was probably 11 when I first heard of it. And I thought: “What a stupid game. I wonder how often that sort rudeness gets people hurt?”
Apparently it’s been going on for generations, and the “in-your-face-at-all-times” mentality has not yet impressed itself on the Black community as a stupid idea.
IQ——70,,,, maybe.
Lost in all the replies, here...
What a beautiful little girl.
I’ve heard of it. I’m black and grew up in Detroit in 60’s and 70’s. I was what they used to call a ‘square’. I was too uptight and I refused to talk about somebody in that way. I didn’t like it, when the subject was inevitably my own mother.
My dad was far more cool about it, and would run his best friends down to the ground when we visited local barbershops. I saw a side of him rarely seen at home, openly sarcastic, lots of slang, and heavy trash talk. This taught me that some men joked aggressively and could stop whenever they chose to.
His friends praised him for having style.
All feral urban blacks. Shocker. They jurdred one of their own as they almost always do. Murdered the one with the most promise of possibly turning out okay.
Something about this situation really stinks.
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