Adam, take my word. Nothing you experienced growing up in Bryant Park has prepared you for life in Oz. I know it's hard but I'll be here for you. I promise. Your dad was my scoutmaster for God's sake.
Yeah but you did. That's why you're standing where you're standing. Don't forget that. Ever. The guilt may keep you sane. Get settled and uh...I'll introduce you around.
We both support slavery. For me, slavery don't exist anymore. Which is a damn shame. But according to this book in the library, for those Muslims slavery is alive and well in Africa. That's right. I figured Said must have known that too since he went and got himself one. You.
You know, with all your warped ideology, I bet you never gave much thought to why Adolf was so pissed off at the Jews. One theory is that he was traumatized by the death of his mother. She died of breast cancer and she was in the care of a Jewish physician, so, of course, the repressed hatred erupted itself into the Holocaust. Now, another theory is that Hitler's father was the illegitimate son of a German woman and some obscure Jewish man, and so Hitler himself had impure blood - Hey, now, now don't make me slip, because if I do, we are both in trouble, hmm? You know, it's amazing. We don't even know where these gums come from. I mean, this could be the gums of a kike, a spic, or even a faggot. You could be getting the beautiful gums of a big, black nigger.
I don't agree. Here, rape has a a leveling effect. Peter Schibetta, from the day he arrived, wanted to be a tough guy, wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, running things, hurting people. Well, he got stopped by Adebisi. Now he got stopped again.
Did the divine part control his sexual appetites? And if so, what chance have I got? I'm not divine, far from it, and I mean all my life anytime I've gotten the urge... I've stuck my cock into any cavity that was open and available.
When I was a kid and all this shit was going down in our house, my dad was wailing on us non-stop, so I went to our pastor. I had a welt on my back the size of this fist, so, I asked to good Monsignor if he could please talk to my dad and ask him to stop beating on us. He said if my dad hit us it was because we were bad and we deserved to be punished. Then he told me to go home and honor thy father.
