is it tragic?
or
is it magic?
sometimes eastern european women make this whole being mean thing sort of like shooting fish in a barrel. whether it's a mother of two in a tiger striped catsuit yelling at her kids in socks and sandals or this hot mess with the bad red streaks in her white devil afro or her friend with the poodle skirt from h-e-double hockey sticks, they never disappoint the bastard.
—the bastard
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