Jokers, smokers, midnight tokers,
How the balls is everyone this balmy Tuesday afternoon??? Have you voted for the Bitch YOU Loved This Month and the Bitch YOU Hated This Month??? If not, I urge you to do this. Someone's reputation is riding on this.
Okay... whilst thumbing through the New York Post as I'm occasionally prone to doing, a certain headline leaped out at me:
Yeah. You're reading right. "Evil Lesbian Mom (is there any other kind?) Left Toddler To Die Slow Death". Once you get over the initial histrionics of the "Evil Lesbian" part, the story really isn't so humorous.
It's quite something: Once upon a time Zahira Matos, 23, left her home in Michigan for the wilds of New York City, and in a scene straight outta the movie "Monster" met one Carmen Molina, 35. The two fell in love, and much rug-bumping ensued. Although it's unclear as to how long they had been together, Ms. Matos had three children... a three-year-old daughter named Yahmliz, a two-year-old son named Yiovanni, and a teency two-month-old newborn named Kimberley. Anyway - they were living together in absolute squalor in some tenement up in Harlem. The phone had been cut off but the fridge was well-stocked with beer, as Ms. Molina was a bit of a drinker, y'see.
One fateful evening back in September, 2007, Ms. Matos decided she wanted to go out partying... presumably to shake the blahs of being tied up with a newborn for the past two months, and left her children alone with her lesbian partner Ms. Molina to look after them.
Enter the astounding logic of the poor: What with the arrival of baby Kimberley, and what with Ms. Molina's ravenous appetite for booze, the family could only afford diapers for one child... this meant that little Yiovanni - two weeks shy of his second birthday - would have to get potty trained... AND FAST! Apparently the best method to do this was to use negative reinforcement each and every time he made an illegal numero deuce... so that's what happened. For every poopie, Yiovanni would get pummelled by a 30-something Latina lesbian.
This particular night little Yiovanni soiled himself whilst Ms. Molina was giving him a bath. This did not sit well with Ms. Molina - who, according to additional reports, had ingested FOUR 22-ounce bottles of St. Ides malt liquor (2 times the alcohol content of beer) that she'd been mixing with Cognac (YES, COGNAC. Couldn't afford diapers, but could afford Cognac.) - and as a result, she began drunkenly beating the toddler into submission.
Somehow, he accumulated 60 bruises on his head, torso and limbs, along with three recent rib fractures, a broken leg and a blow to the liver. When the child's rightful mother, Ms. Matos, returned home from her evening of partying, she found Yiovanni gnarled up on the floor and decided that she'd hop down to the drugstore to "buy him a band aid". She offered up this tasty sound byte:
Anyway... at 2 AM - some FIVE hours after all this had been done - bitch finally decides to call 911... from a neighbor's apartment, of course. But, unfortunately, by this time it was - to quote Teen Pop phenom JoAnna "JoJo" Levesque - too little, too late. Yiovanni had died, and them bitches was in some trouble. Anyway... Matos lost her kids, naturally, is facing some sort of charges and Molina is serving 15 to life. *pats hands together as if to indicate "and that's that"*
Sad. Anyway... I feel like I should sort of end on a happier note... the other day I was talking to m'best girlfriend, Anth, and he mentioned that some 'unflattering' photos of him from a party a few years ago had been tagged on facebook that he needed to untag immediately. I was like "they're not unflattering. They're just normal. Is it because you're not doing Olsen-twin-face in them?" and he said "Exactly". Anyballs - this is the resulting photoshopping from that conversation...
Peace...
And please, remember - potty training has to happen at everyone's own pace.
--- Aj
How the balls is everyone this balmy Tuesday afternoon??? Have you voted for the Bitch YOU Loved This Month and the Bitch YOU Hated This Month??? If not, I urge you to do this. Someone's reputation is riding on this.
Okay... whilst thumbing through the New York Post as I'm occasionally prone to doing, a certain headline leaped out at me:
Yeah. You're reading right. "Evil Lesbian Mom (is there any other kind?) Left Toddler To Die Slow Death". Once you get over the initial histrionics of the "Evil Lesbian" part, the story really isn't so humorous.
It's quite something: Once upon a time Zahira Matos, 23, left her home in Michigan for the wilds of New York City, and in a scene straight outta the movie "Monster" met one Carmen Molina, 35. The two fell in love, and much rug-bumping ensued. Although it's unclear as to how long they had been together, Ms. Matos had three children... a three-year-old daughter named Yahmliz, a two-year-old son named Yiovanni, and a teency two-month-old newborn named Kimberley. Anyway - they were living together in absolute squalor in some tenement up in Harlem. The phone had been cut off but the fridge was well-stocked with beer, as Ms. Molina was a bit of a drinker, y'see.
One fateful evening back in September, 2007, Ms. Matos decided she wanted to go out partying... presumably to shake the blahs of being tied up with a newborn for the past two months, and left her children alone with her lesbian partner Ms. Molina to look after them.
Enter the astounding logic of the poor: What with the arrival of baby Kimberley, and what with Ms. Molina's ravenous appetite for booze, the family could only afford diapers for one child... this meant that little Yiovanni - two weeks shy of his second birthday - would have to get potty trained... AND FAST! Apparently the best method to do this was to use negative reinforcement each and every time he made an illegal numero deuce... so that's what happened. For every poopie, Yiovanni would get pummelled by a 30-something Latina lesbian.
This particular night little Yiovanni soiled himself whilst Ms. Molina was giving him a bath. This did not sit well with Ms. Molina - who, according to additional reports, had ingested FOUR 22-ounce bottles of St. Ides malt liquor (2 times the alcohol content of beer) that she'd been mixing with Cognac (YES, COGNAC. Couldn't afford diapers, but could afford Cognac.) - and as a result, she began drunkenly beating the toddler into submission.
Somehow, he accumulated 60 bruises on his head, torso and limbs, along with three recent rib fractures, a broken leg and a blow to the liver. When the child's rightful mother, Ms. Matos, returned home from her evening of partying, she found Yiovanni gnarled up on the floor and decided that she'd hop down to the drugstore to "buy him a band aid". She offered up this tasty sound byte:
"Before I left, my son was like in another world... so I tried my best to hurryCan you do me a favour? Picture that being said by Rosie Perez in "White Men Can't Jump", because that's what I imagine this woman's accent/intonation sounding like. And I find that rather amusing. Pressing on: Apparently bitch didn't want to take Yiovanni to the hospital, fearing that they'd have seen what had happened and want to take her other two children away from her - yeah... that was never an inevitability... NEVER... - so instead the two women tried to make a makeshift splint for his broken leg... and fuck, I dunno, I'll bet they considered putting foundation on his head to hide the bruises... the problem solving methods of the poor... it must have been like rats running through a fucking maze.
up."
Anyway... at 2 AM - some FIVE hours after all this had been done - bitch finally decides to call 911... from a neighbor's apartment, of course. But, unfortunately, by this time it was - to quote Teen Pop phenom JoAnna "JoJo" Levesque - too little, too late. Yiovanni had died, and them bitches was in some trouble. Anyway... Matos lost her kids, naturally, is facing some sort of charges and Molina is serving 15 to life. *pats hands together as if to indicate "and that's that"*
Sad. Anyway... I feel like I should sort of end on a happier note... the other day I was talking to m'best girlfriend, Anth, and he mentioned that some 'unflattering' photos of him from a party a few years ago had been tagged on facebook that he needed to untag immediately. I was like "they're not unflattering. They're just normal. Is it because you're not doing Olsen-twin-face in them?" and he said "Exactly". Anyballs - this is the resulting photoshopping from that conversation...
Peace...
And please, remember - potty training has to happen at everyone's own pace.
--- Aj