These are the
same folks who are always complaining about what someone else has not done when
they are incapable of finding the energy to do for themselves.
We probably all
know some of the Nudniks—they are a very large group of people who live in
every area—east and west, north and south and all parts in between. How do we recognize them?
If you live in
the city of Detroit and there is more than one house on your block, go stand on
your porch and look around you. You’ll recognize them.
The sidewalk is
their game room and you can hear the dice clicking as they roll against the
concrete.
The yard and
porch is their hangout where they gather to conspire to do stupid when they
think no one else is watching. Sometimes, you can locate them by the tower of
smoke that hovers above them and the stench of weed, cigars, and unclean body
parts that surrounds them.
Sometimes, the “fellas
are hanging out on the corner with a jug in a bag that ain’t necessarily brown
any more,” but certainly plastic.
And just in case
you’re living on a block with six or more houses, you can bet your last dollar
that there are least six or more unmarried
females with more than six kids and have at least six baby-daddies on their
check list.
Now, just watch
the struggling mamas cuss out their toddlers while dragging them along the
sidewalk or into the street. They haven’t figured out that even though the
toddler may be walking, their little legs couldn’t possibly keep up with the
longer legs of their mamas. Now that baby has put in an appearance, baby-daddy
has become a magician and disappeared. That’s no big deal for little mama who’s
a hot thang. The next baby-daddy is right around the corner because he’s
looking for a fool, who refused to stay in school to learn anything about the
nature of her body and brains and so—because she’s lonely and mad, she brings
home any cad and lets him move in and they move the kids over. Now the kids are
even more confused when they learn that it’s okay to sleep with relatives—you
know—the uncles that are not related in any way.
This hot little
mama wants to prove something to somebody that her thang is working and
produces more little mouths she cannot feed, but not to worry, the girl’s got a
plan. She’ll cuss out the kids even more when baby-daddy numbers two and three
hit the door and she hasn’t figured out yet, she can’t get no respect when she
has none for herself. Plan B and C in case you haven’t figured it out is for
all of us who contribute to the tax revenues of our great state to take care of
her mismanagement of self and her offspring. But she learned her lessons well
from her mama and grandmama and great-granny, too who all used the system and
encouraged what they do.
But now, let’s not forget the males who contributed
to this hole in our tax revenues because they refused to think of protection
since it would seem to impact their manhood or perhaps they define their
manhood by the number of babies they make, not the ones for whom they care for.
Funny thing is they don’t realize that their contribution to this society in
the person of little Jane or Joe is a bigger drain than they have been and
brings their “manhood” into question since most real men “think before they act”
irresponsibly.
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