When I was a kid, there was a retarded black girl on my block named Bea. She used to sit by a window all day, eating oatmeal, smearing it all over her face and in her afro.
When you're young, throwing rocks at retarded children is no big deal. Fun even. Then you get to a certain point in life (usually after you read Flowers for Algernon--you know, that thing that big people do with books, John) when you start to feel bad about it.
John, you are the retarded black girl with oatmeal in her hair of xxxporntalk.
Her name was Donna in our neighborhood. She was also overweight. She'd lie down on the ground in front of our bicycle ramps, and we would jump her.
Her name was Donna in our neighborhood. She was also overweight. She'd lie down on the ground in front of our bicycle ramps, and we would jump her.
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