The instructively destructive power of weak women’s state-sanctioned revisionism

somebody that I used to know

There’s nothing that a vindictive, delusional, truth-hating, lie-licensed woman can’t poison, given enough venal enablers.

Such is the way that a child-murdering grandmother earns, post hoc, deservedness of a childhood ruined through rape by her own father, in upstate New York; and a mother likewise earns eternal memories of, and night-terrors from, an adolescence crippled by abandonment, and terrorism sexual and industrial, on Shady Lane, in Parkway Plaza, and beyond.

Ignorance of the law excuses not.

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