Article here.
Part of me says that I shouldn't post this because it makes me seem like I'm applauding murder. Maybe one day in the future I'll apply for a job, they'll google me and see this post and use it as justification for not hiring me. Perhaps one day I'll realize how much the world needs me and I'll decide to save it from itself by running for political office. Then someone will point to this as a blemish on my character.
The other part of me says, "You have a two year old daughter and you see creepy men staring at her from time to time with their hands in their pants pockets." Then I'm reminded of all the girls I've met over the years who are scarred from something bad that happened to them when their parents turned their backs for just a second.
I've had my fair share of chance encounters with women in high school and college that could've gone one way but instead turned into "Ordale J. Allen: Grief Counselor" therapy sessions. Some were just skeezers, but an overwhelming majority of the girls I've met over the years have a skeleton in their closet of some family member or friend of the family doing something to them.
That's part of the reason why I sat in the doctor's office on D-Day with my head in my hands when they said "and those specks right there are the lips of the vagina." I promised myself that day that even if I couldn't protect her from everything, I'd die trying. And that's why you better go through a f*cking Congressional vetting session before you even consider asking to babysit my kid.
So my heart goes out to this guy. Killing his kid's attacker won't undo the damage. That's there for life. And while I'm not advocating murdering someone, in the word's of Chris Rock, "I'm not saying he should've killed [him]....BUT I UNDERSTAND!"
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