I'd like to know why this extremely unnecessary, useless, worthless, heartless human keeps getting on the wrong side of the bars.
To my dear cousin Spaghetti: Thank you for saying what needed to be said. I'd sooner end this guy's life and pay the price than forgive him for what he's done to us. Forgiveness is impossible, I'm sorry.
To Indian: Whether he was black, white, Asian, redneck, or a hot, sexy Italian, I would still hate the guy who killed my uncle. Race has nothing to do with it. But I do agree with having a brother around in this city. Mine's name is Walther.
Mrs. Zeigler was one of my favorite teachers in middle school. She made language arts class fun, taught me so much about reading and life, and got to know us on a personal level, making dorky girls like me feel important. While I am saddened to see that other young students will not have the opportunity to enjoy Mrs. Zeigler as I did, I hope that this will be a life-changing opportunity for Mrs. Zeigler to recover and truly learn from this experience. She could really use some time off, anyway. Hate all you want on teachers who make mistakes, but we have one hell of a job to do with today's whiny, spoiled, disrespectful young adults. Even I'll drink to that.