Ten Minutes

I read a story that comes from Wichita about the, ahem, mother who prostituted her 5 year old daughter out so she would have money for alcohol and cigarettes. We're talking $6-$7 per encounter. As if this crime wasn't heinous enough, truth comes out that she did this very same thing with her other two daughters, who are now older.

Mere words cannot describe the intensity of loathing I feel towards this mother, and to call her a mother is painful and an insult to good mothers everywhere. No, it's probably better to just call this woman Uterine Slumlord.

I know we come to expect back behavior from Wichita, from the BTK killer to various other acts of atrocity that comes from a town that means "trailer park" in ancient Indian language, but this really takes the cake.

And let's not forget the case that's in my own back yard of the douche nozzle that sired 4 kids with his daughter, killed a couple and buried their bodies in coolers. They didn't live in Wichita, but they are from Harrisonville, of which I have on good authority, is a sister-city to Wichita.

Fact being that our laws are not as tough on people who abuse children, in all aspects of the word. So, I would like to offer up my time in dealing with these pathetic excuses for human beings. Ten minutes is all I would need.

Just ten minutes, me, a baseball bat, and Midtown Miscreant standing outside the door to bar anyone from interrupting me.