Tard stories

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kookiecrisp
This happened when I was in high school. I was (and still am) a shy person that keeps to herself. I was sitting down in the cafeteria after having eaten my lunch.

A tard I didn't know started to inch toward me, and he even started to touch me too much. I think he was even hugging me. I was petrified, so I didn't make my discomfort known, and I was just praying the tard would go away.

The tard didn't go away, and he was trying to invite me to his house or something. I barely understood him. He stuck around a while, and then suddenly, his eyes rolled back. WTF? Then he went back to normal, except he completely forgot about me and moved on with his life as if nothing happened. Finally, he left.

It's like he reset.

Bahahahaha, holy shit!

The Tard Reset. Wish there was an actual button. It would say the Staples button's line- "That was easy!"

Ohhhhh I hve some good ones:biggrin2
I used to work at some sort of workshop for people with disabilities (if you want to study anything social/therapeutic around here you have to volunteer for a year beforehand to see if you are up for it). Our group was for older tards,who would soon retire.Most of them were just a little dumb but overall harmless.Except for some.
1:Walter
Walter was nearly 2 metres (6 feet?) tall und overweight.He was hard of hearing,could'n't really speak properly and had the mental capacity of a 5 year old.Apart from that he liked to steal supply like wood and fabric and hide it in his backpack .When we tried to take it back from him ,he got really aggressive and would slap the caretakers or rip out flowers and bushes in the garden.
He still lived with his 80 year old mother who was too weak and old to properly care for him but didn't want to send him to a group home.Because of that he would wear the same clothes for months and he had the most horrible smell on him.
One day he mamaged to get into the office and stole a bunch of important papers.When my coworker tried to snatch them out of his backpape he smashed a brick over my coworkers head,leaving him with a concussion :goggle (no clue where he got the brick ) . Walter wasn't allowed to come back to the workshop after that ,so I don't know what happened to him.
2tine
This case is not about a violent tard but about it's dumbass cruel family.Stine was a 20 year old woman with severe mental retardation who only came in once or twice a week for occupational therapy ,because even though she could walk and talk on her own,she couldn't concentrate long enough on one thing to do even simple tasks.
She didn't show up for her appointment one day and when we called her mother she informed us that she must have sneaked out a night and wandered off because she was los.They found her again a few days later with no memory off what happened to her.
A few months later it turns out she's pregnant. Because her family was very pro life (they had her even though they knew she would come out retarted) she didn't have an abortion and her brother later adopted the kid ( who is acutally retarded too,albeit not as heavily as her). They made her carry the child,even thogh she had no real clue what was going on and suffered heavily from pregnancy related issues. It was extremely hard to watch. On top of that,they never tried to find out who abducted and raped her,claiming "they didn't need or want to know" and that the pregnancy was-of fucking course."a gift from god" beacuase they thought she couldn't get pregnant anyway

Sally, I call bullshit on drug use causing someone to schiz-out, as well. If you are already a carrier for that shit, maybe smoking or shooting unbelievable amounts of crystal meth could trigger it, but otherwise I doubt it. It's mostly an inherited risk issue. I dabbled in drug use as a teen, and in my early twenties, and I have an extremely high risk for inheriting schizophrenia, manic depression, and a whole host of other fucked up mental illnesses (thanks mom, I really appreciate that one), but I am 28 and have absolutely NO problems thus far. Believe me, my mom's side of the family has such a high incidence of mental illness, that I should be a drooling, non-functioning whack-job by now. I guess I dodged a bullet

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I don't really have any tard stories (as of yet), but god-damn these are entertaining me! Good show, everyone! Bring on the crazy!

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Cambion
She always had a bowl cut and always looked like she was power walking.

Oh my god, you have the best way with words ever. I'm dying over here. larious

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mumofsixbirds
grammarnut: I am not trying to paint all people who are ill mentally with the same brush, nor do I believe that they should be killed.

I have a MI and I don't think I should be killed either.

DITTO

grammarnut:

Sorry, I posted before I saw your apology. Need to read ALL of the posts before I comment.

My bad.

@polkadot, wow, I don't know what's a more disturbing thought: someone making the conscious decision to bang a tard, or what it would be like to witness or overhear a retard giving birth. I've already, unfortunately, seen tard sex and it is just as special as the retarded recipients (I think I saw it on The YNC and anyone who has ever seen that site knows that a bunch of sane dudes banging a retarded woman in a barn is tame by YNC standards), but a retard sluicing would probably require a constant drip of brain bleach.

The weird thing about Spedley is I don't think either of his parents have schizophrenia and I don't think anyone else in the family has it either. Don't get me wrong, I'm fully convinced both Duh and Moo have a few screws loose (and Grandmoo on the Duh's side), but not to the tune of being schizos. So either Duh isn't the biological father of Spedley, or someone buried really deep in the branches of the family tree was a schizo. Or maybe there are some spots in the family tree with no branches that no one knows about and that caused Sped Boy's tardly tendencies.

I don't have any personal Tard stories.

I did think of this one thing, but - I really don't want to mock people or anything, that can't help it. Well, I wouldn't to their face, anyway

And, the place does do good work. Perhaps those in the Tard Industry (I am trying to restrain myself, I swear) might even benefit from this info.

It is a good program, I just went and looked at their site, it strikes me though that these people are rather close to *normal*.

In any case, this is this thing 'Up North' here - that's called Lambs Farm.

http://lambsfarm.org/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lambs_Farm

Looking at these sites and reading more decreased my desire to mock. It is a veritable Theme Park O'Tards!

Lines at (Six Flags) Great America too long? How about the Renn Faire? Oh, that looks jammed too. So just drive right over to Tard Farm! Yay! It does say something like this in the Wiki article too - how it ranks as an 'attraction'.

OK. I shouldn't laugh. They do good work. I was taken to this place too - as a very young child - because older kids are not going to care. They have a farm and shops and restaurants, and a 'petting zoo' (of animals, not tards ).

I just poked around on their site and (if I had a dog) - I would buy the one 'treat basket' - they do make and sell nice things. It's a functional operation that has been there a long time. The 'historical photos' were interesting too. In fact, I kind of want to go there now I'd buy some candles.

This could perhaps serve as a model for other communities. These people are clearly high functioning though.

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Cambion
@polkadot, wow, I don't know what's a more disturbing thought: someone making the conscious decision to bang a tard, or what it would be like to witness or overhear a retard giving birth. I've already, unfortunately, seen tard sex and it is just as special as the retarded recipients (I think I saw it on The YNC and anyone who has ever seen that site knows that a bunch of sane dudes banging a retarded woman in a barn is tame by YNC standards), but a retard sluicing would probably require a constant drip of brain bleach.

I feel very sorry for this girl

And, why did I look at that site? ::brbl

I may have told this story before, but one time my coworkers and I were eating at an Indian restaurant for lunch, including a very petite young Asian gal. Well, we were waiting for our food when this Indian guy comes out of the kitchen and sits next to my Asian co-worker, smiling weirdly with his eyes flitting back and forth. We don't know what to make of this, until this Punjabitard starts rubbing my coworker's thigh. All five of us were stunned silent. (Have you heard of groups of people witnessing something freaky and simply freezing with panic? I never believed I'd be one of those people until this happened). Finally, another woman yelled, "Stop touching her!!!" and the sped scurried back to the kitchen.

Our waitress came back and we complained loudly, but she brushed it off with a quick apology, and nothing else. So gross. Needless to say, we never went back there again.

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"[GFG's pregnancy is] kind of like at the stables where that one dumb, ugly-ass mare broke out of her corral one day and got herself screwed by the equally fugly colt that was due to be gelded the same afternoon."- Shiny

Tard#1: There is a very prominent, well-to-do family that lives in my town with a tarded son. He is in his twenties, kinda scrawny, and creepy as hell. My first encounter with him was on the walking trail in town. I was walking, and he came up on his ten speed, got off, and started walking beside me, talking a blue streak. He told me that he saw me walk by his house (the walking trial started at the end of their street) and he thought I was "hot" and wanted to know if I had a boyfriend. I told him that he was actually young enough to be my son, and that he shouldn't be talking to me or any other woman like this. It didn't seem to faze him, because he just kept repeating that I was "hot" and that he wanted to be my boyfriend. By this time, I was walking so fast I was practically running! I was never so glad to reach the end of the trail and be on the main road again. I avoided walking past his house after that. Thankfully, they have since moved out of town.

Tard#2: My high school has a "Life Skills" classroom in it. These kids have varying degrees of tardliness: Some are full-blown tards who are just basically kept in the confines of the room all day, some are allowed out with their handlers for certain classes, and the least severe are allowed to leave the room unsupervised to go to certain classes.
My incident happened with "Shayna" a severe tard of about 20, who was about 5ft. tall and weighed around 300lbs. Shayna liked to "give hugs" which meant she would grab people and crush them to her enormous bosoms while they struggled to get out of her Herculean grip. I head heard about these hugs, and how awful and painful they were, from a few other teachers, and was determined not to ever be on the receiving end of one of them. Well, sure enough, Shayna started sizing me up. She was walking by me in the hall one day and reached out to touch my arm. I sternly told her, "Don't touch!" her two handlers (yes, she needed two!) looked at me appalled. How dare I not want to get a nice hug from Shayna! I would hurt her feelings! TFB! About a week later, I was in the hall alone when along comes Shayna. She actually grunted joyfully and started running full speed at me, lumbering down the hall with her arms outstretched! Luckily for me, I am a sensible-shoe kinda teacher, and was wearing flats. I acually had to RUN from her! Just picture it: a petite, middle-aged teacher running from a thundering tard while her handlers run behind her yelling, "NO Shayna! Miss B doesn't want to be hugged!" Thankfully they caught her before she caught me! Also, thankfully, she "graduated" (aged out of the school system) that year, and was sent to live in a group home.

I love these stories, it's like our own Tard Blog!

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"[GFG's pregnancy is] kind of like at the stables where that one dumb, ugly-ass mare broke out of her corral one day and got herself screwed by the equally fugly colt that was due to be gelded the same afternoon."- Shiny

I've actually tried searching for retard tales online and either come up with Tard Blog itself or posts that look like they're written by the tards themselves. I thought it'd be fun to start our own little (readable) collection.

And yeah, word of warning, The YNC is pretty fucked up if you haven't seen it already. It's full of porn (not all of it is consensual), gore (real, not staged), dead bodies in various stages of decomposition, people abusing one another or their children and animal cruelty (the site doesn't advocate abuse, it's just shown due to the site's nature of showing messed up shit). Basically it's Rotten.com with videos.

@gymrat, I'm so sorry you had to deal with such bullshit, but the image of a 300-pound tard stampeding down the hallway is just too funny.

Honestly, why the fuck is it all mobile retards are so fucking strong? I love poking around on sites that have stories about bad patients and I've read things like a 90-pound tard being restrained by five fully-grown men weighing at least 150 pounds each and Supertard could STILL fight them all off. What is with this extraordinary strength they have?

For some weird reason, I seem to attract them. Until Cambion started this thread, I had forgotten all about this incident: It was 12 years ago, in Corning, NY. My friend and I decided to go there for the big glass festival, and stay overnight. The next morning, before heading for home, we stopped at this diner for a quick breakfast. The diner had huge plate glass windows, and we were seated at the window. This grown tard man, riding a bicycle, rode by the diner on his bike, spotted me through the window, and for some reason got all excited. He parked his bike, ran into the restaurant and came running over to OUR booth with his arms outstretched to ME! To this day, I don't know if it was a case of mistaken identity, or if I just attract weirdos, but I yelled out, "NO! DON'T touch me!" He then got all sad and shuffled out of the diner, hopped on his bike, and peddled away. My friend said, "Aww! That poor guy! You should've let him hug you!" To which I replied, "Are you nuts? Finish your coffee before he comes BACK!" I've noticed that the people who aren't currently getting mauled/slobbered on are the sympathetic ones!

My mother in law is friends with a woman from her neighborhood who has a mildly retarded son. He was in Special Ed in high school, but managed to graduate and get a job. He doesn't drive, though.

Two years ago, Tardley's mother found him a tard girl through someone from their temple. This girl is much more retarded than him. She can't work, has speech problems, doesn't drive, etc etc.

They got married yesterday. Their parents got them a house (??) and furnished it. My mother in law went to the wedding and said that Mrs. Tardley was already talking about grandchildren.

So, you have a man who can't afford to support his wife and home, a woman who is completely unable to perform any sort of executive function and you, as a parent, must care for them. Why not throw a child into the mix? Do these people think that they are going to live forever? Oh no, I forgot, its going to be up to the siblings to care for the tard's home and children.

I wish that they wouldn't make movies like "I Am Sam". I think that it just encourages these people to stay in denial about their children.

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Cambion
You know what the best part is about Spedley? He has a driver's license. Someone decided it would be a fabulous idea to let him have access to a vehicle at one point. From what I was told, he was normal when he was younger, but due to drug and alcohol use in his teens, he developed schizophrenia. I'm not sure if that's how schizophrenia actually works. Is it possible to develop a mental illness like that so much later in life?

And yes, not all mentally ill people are dangerous. Some are socially awkward, some need to take extra time to learn, some might need speech therapy. People with mild issues can often manage them with treatment and medication and can function just fine in normal society. But the dangerous retards? Aside from keeping shrinks and nut house staff employed, they serve no purpose. Often times they will never get better, they will never be able to be part of normal society because of their behavior, you can't arrest them because of their illness, and they pose a danger not only to others, but to themselves. On top of that, folks with more mild illnesses may have the capacities to realize that they do need medication for whatever is wrong, whereas retards often will not take medication because they feel they don't need it or they don't want to take evil government pills.

Maybe it makes me a mean bitch, but I think that for the very violent, incurable crazies, the best thing for them and for everyone else would be to line them all up in front of a firing squad and blow them all away. If an animal is violent or crazy, it gets put down. If a violent dog terrorizes the neighborhood, biting random people and killing other people's pets, it's not captured, rehabilitated and let back into the neighborhood. It gets killed, either via euthanasia or a pissed-off neighbor with a shotgun. The same should be done for humans who are way beyond help. Once they prove they cannot be helped and are too dangerous to be around others, why exactly do they need to be alive? All they're going to do is hurt others and themselves.

I think I am the tard

I have schizophrenia. I'm socially awkward but not violent. I'm extremely reclusive. Something in my brain was never wired correctly but... meh. It could be worse. I've talked to many other schizophrenics. Those of us that were drug free and pretty straight laced have mild symptoms. We can actually function day to day. I don't need to be on daily meds but some I know do need them to function.

Schizophrenia usually shows in our early to mid twenties. I was 28 and had the latest diagnoses of the entire group because I refused to have a breakdown. Once I had my first breakdown my family stole my driver license from me. I had to walk everywhere.

However, there are fucktards that induced their schizophrenia by taking mind altering drugs like LSD, mushrooms, different types of acid, meth, and other goodies. Their schizophrenia is fucking SEVERE. I avoid them like the plague. They are usually the violent paranoid asshats that give the rest of us a bad name.

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sterilizedsally
Schizophrenia usually doesn't show until your 20s, but saying drug used cause it is bullshit.

Why is this? I've run across people that swear their schizophrenia was caused by heavy drug use. These are the violent crazies that usually end up in the psych hospital I was at via court order.

The schizo patients that never did drugs seemed to be pretty peaceful individuals. Peaceful but a bit fucked up. I include myself in this group.

Did the drugs just cause a different type of psychotic problem?

I also call bullshit on the theory that drug use causes schizophrenia. It may damage parts of the brain and cause disorders that have similar symptoms, but they are not schizophrenia.

I'm schizotypal, the middle of the schizophrenic spectrum. I live in a delusional world, but I know it. I know it's a fantasy world. And I like it. My mother and my grandmother were also schizotypal (informal diagnosis of them made by me based on remembering their behavior and how similar it was to my own). None of us ever used drugs (okay, I have now and I'll get to that). At 85, my grandmother shifted into full blown schizophrenia -- she saw animals that were not there. So, ours is inherited. I'd bet good money on Spedley's being inherited, too, somehow. Possibly a bad gene that skipped generations.

Now, to the drugs. Back in April, DW and I visited a friend in Boulder, Colorado. Marijuana is legal up there, so I tried it. I took three puffs. Yes, I inhaled. That was the first night in a long time that I actually had a calm brain! No agoraphobia, no paranoia, no antisocial feelings. In fact, I became Mr. Extrovert. I wanted to go out and make everyone laugh. When I came down, I said "Fuck that shit! I never want to feel that happy and good natured again!" So, that's pot. It actually had the reverse effects. I can't speak for cocaine, heroin, LSD, meth, etc.

Hmm. Tard stories. Not too many. Both are church tards. Sigh, the joys of charismatic denominations that seem to attract people like that. One was named Micah (he was 16) and the other was Joseph (23-35?). Both did the same thing. If they saw me, they both ran up to me and grabbed me in a hug. Not a "good to see you, brother" type hug, but a bearhug. Damn they were strong! Joseph knocked a few of my ribs loose once. They, they started talking and never shut up until they saw someone else to go assault, I mean, hug. And I could only understand about half of their words and none of their logic. They also either had bad teeth or never brushed them because they had the worst breath ever. Two completely different churches but with guys who could have been related.

OH! I just remembered this one. I was working at Borders in Orlando, and was on lunch break. I finished eating and it was time to return to the floor. I opened the door to the office. It opened into the music section. Right outside the door, standing by the teeshirts were two teenagers who looked like rejects from Deliverance! Both had severe buck teeth, sunken chins, and dangerously empty eyes. They looked right at me as if to say "You have nice ears." I ducked back inside the office and sat down for ten minutes.

.

I can't say I know really anything about Sped Boy's teen years, except that he was perfectly normal until he took drugs. No idea what kind of drugs would cause this either. My cousin works in the local psych unit and from what he said, Spedley's medications were quite strong and he described the fucker's condition in lay terms. When Sped Boy is not on his meds, the voices are in the front of his mind. When he is medicated, the voices are in the back of his mind. In any case, my mother and I were in no way equipped to deal with a big fat tard that refused to take his meds.

Even his Duh couldn't get him to take them - obviously due to his size and strength, you couldn't just stick the pill down his throat like you would with a dog or a cat, so you had to sit there and try to explain to his dumb ass why he needed to take his pills. Of course, Tard Boy felt he didn't have to take them, so trying to get meds into him was impossible when he decided he didn't like the way the pills made him feel (which was often). I suggested hiding the pills in cans of beer since he was usually chugging every canned drink in the house anyway.

I've never known another schizophrenic, but Spedley definitely is not a mild case. Maybe doing drugs caused some other mental problem along with the schizophrenia or that was worsened by it. I don't know, I can't say I know a whole lot about schizos in general.

I have a couple from my childhood:

Story 1:

When I was a little girl my father lived in a duplex in this small town. On the bottom of the duplex was a family with a tard "just our age (my sister and I)". His name was "Shad" though I think his name was actually "Chad" and he just couldn't pronounce it. Shad, like I said, was apparently my age - about 7 or 8 at the time - but he towered over me. Why are they always gigantic? He also liked to give tard-hugs and "didn't know his own strength". I was horrified by him but all of the adults would constantly tell my sister and I to be nice because he doesn't know any better. He'd punch us, pick us up, push us down on the side walk... all sorts of horrible things but we were still told to go play with him whenever we went to visit my dad. My sister was only 5 and was built like a tiny little bird so he'd just pick her up and toss her over his shoulder while she was screaming. All of the adults thought it was funny and cute.

Eventually my father moved to a different house and we didn't have to interact with Shad any more on a regular basis, but we still saw him at church and we were like his favorite people ever-ever. Avoiding the tard-hugs became easier as we got older and able to speak for ourselves. Whenever I go and visit my dad and stepmother for Christmas we go back to his church and, sure enough, Shad is there. How Shad still remembers who I am is beyond me. He's still enormous, still lives with his folks at 30 and still wants to hug me all the damn time. I haven't allowed it since I was a kid though, I usually just back off and hide behind other people until he loses interest.

Story 2:

The high school I went to had a SPED class. They kept to themselves and I didn't see much of them except for this one time that is etched into my memory as being both horrifying and hilarious.

There was a rec center underneath the high school that my friends and I hung out in sometimes. It was like a closely guarded secret that one of my buddies, who was in the AV club, somehow had the keys for so we usually had the place to ourselves. It was awesome: foosball table, big screen TV, huge comfy couches and immaculately clean. We figured that it was used for after school clubs to meet at or something. We were wrong.

One afternoon in October on spare period my buddies and I were headed down there and we heard music coming from the other side of the door. There were lights on and we could see movement. I suggested we take a peak to see what was going on but my friend flung the door open and there it was... The entire SPED class Halloween party.

Picture a dozen or so costumed teenage tards dancing to the monster mash. We just stood there staring in confusion, unable to process the glorious and terrifying spectacle we were witnessing. There was a retarded Dracula, retarded Frankenstein's monster, retarded fairies and dragons and pirates. Nobody seemed to notice us so we eventually started slowly backing out. My heel touched stairs and I turned to run, all my other friends followed suit. Once we were at, I suppose, what we collectively deemed was a safe distance we all burst out laughing.

We never went back down there again.

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Dogsmeow2
There was a retarded Dracula, retarded Frankenstein's monster, retarded fairies and dragons and pirates

lariouslariouslarious

I'm dying over here, seriously!

Regarding the onset of schizophrenia:
Our family thought it was caused by having one of your family die. This is on my father's side, and I can tell more if you want (spazed out family) but here is a short version:

"Garry" is a cousin of mine about the same age as me. He had a good job as a copier repairman in the early 70s but "he didn't go to college"(more about that later). Brian was his older brother who here might be called the "golden penis". Brian was in college and may have liked to party. One snowy night in 1972 Brian was driving his Ford Pinto at high speed into a hard snowbank and was killed in the collision. His father never talked about it till yearr later. Either Brian might have drinking or my uncle Dick was embarrased his son was driving a Pinto.

After Brian's funeral, Garry developed schizophrenia. His family kind of abandoned him and called him names and he ended up in an institution and a group home. His mother said it was all because "Brian Died".

Tell me, wouldn' this all just be a coincidence? That is, I wonder if Garry would have schizophrenia if Brian were still alive. But try telling it to his family and they just verbally attack you.

Tell more if you want to know.

This do-gooder couple that lived near us adopted three foreign kids. One was a really bad tard, mute except for grunts. He never seemed to go to any schools, just hung around the house and yard. Later that expanded to the streets of the neighborhood. He moved like some type of strange animal. He would run really fast then stop, then hide behind the house or a tree, then peak really fast then hide, then peek, then run and grunt. This behavior never changed as he got older.

Then he disappeared for a while. I figured he went to some tard school, but later he came back home. Something felt "off" about the whole thing, and their house was quiet. His brothers started getting into trouble which was unusual. Then was told by a friend from the neighborhood that freaky tard had raped a girl down the street. This occurred in the area that I walked every day and often at night from my friend's house. I knew the victim but not well enough to talk to her about this, and she was a nice quiet person, not someone who would have been teasing or even talking to the tard. I was told he was hiding behind a tree and jumped her. When word finally got out about this, he disappeared again and was gone for good thank god. But there was a period of time after it happened that he was back home and free range and none of us knew about the attack, and I was walking around on his turf at night. WTF, so scary.

My earliest Tard memories, I was probably 4-5 years old, are of when my mother volunteered at a Tard "home" back in the 1960's when it was popular, common, and socially acceptable to round up all the area tards and house them together. Once a week for about the entire year we lived in that area my mother would go to the home with a tray of home made goodies, toys, and other trinkets, and spend about an hour there reading childrens' stories to a circle of tards who couldn't stay quiet long enough to even hear the whole thing. They also bickered among themselves because some of them wanted to hear the stories. The cookie tray would be snatched out of her hand before she could find a place to set it down, fought over like cats with a Tuna fish, and all the while the rest of the tards would be dragging out all the toys and flinging the ones they didn't want all over the fucking place in favor of the NEXT trinket in the box.:

The best I can recall and based on what my mother told me when I was older, this place was basically an orphanage for unwanted tard "children" ranging in age from 5 or 6 to about age 40. They had sure enough tards mixed in with mentally ill too. Often times WHILE she was preoccupied with the tards, this one HUGE girl tard, she was probably 18 or 20 with the mentality of a 5 y/o, would pick me up(against my wishes) and tote me upstairs. She kept bellowing out, "She's my BAYYBEE DOLL!!!!!!". On more than one occasion, when my mother would realize I was "missing", she'd find me upstairs in the big tard's room and she'd be dressing me up in makeshift "doll" clothes or would otherwise be playing with me like I was a toy. I recall tea parties with the tard and her combing my hair while her tard friends looked on. In retrospect, I believe tard-girl had Down Syndrome, but I can't be certain. :drool:crz

Sometimes they'd fight over me which REALLY made me afraid. I was VERY creeped out by it and too afraid to deny tard-girl her "toy" and would just play along until I was rescued by my mother or one of the tard house employees. Perhaps it's this early fear of tards that shaped my views on many of them today.

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If YOU are the "exception" to what I am saying, then why does my commentary bother you so much?
I don't hate your kids, I HATE YOU!

Jesus Kim, that is fucking horrible! You're lucky you never had your brains bashed in by one of them, especially if it was you against no less than 3-5 at a time! That is the stuff nightmares and PTSD are made of for sure.