Since there seems to be a lot of weak ass shit here thus far I shall roll out my shit. Growing up was a fight to be sure and getting bashed around was just part of life along with getting locking in basements and shit like that while my whore mother was busy being a loser. So at around age nine or so my brother and I were shipped off for the summer to some weird ass catholic camp thing. That place had an endless supply of homosexuals and I was way too young to know why these guys were waving around freakishly huge dicks. Anyways, survived a week of that place with my brother who was a year older. We fought with each other a lot but we sure as hell fought back to back against anyone that went up against us. We were always in shit and always living with crappy ass cloths or shoes that were crap and eating was just whatever we could get or steal. So at the end of the whole weird bible camp thing there are cars arriving to pick up kids and away they go. My brother and I waited and waited. Of course by the end of day there was no one there to pick us up. So a nice family asked where we lived and we described the intersection in Dartmouth. ( Nova Scotia ) So we grabbed our bags of crap and loaded into the car. Things were differnt back then and getting a lift was not a big deal as kids. Anyways off we go. Arrive at ( I still recall nearly everything about that day ) corner of Boland Rd and Marine. Victoria Park is really where it was just up from the bridge and down the street from the high school. Anyways we get out of the car and head into the apartment building, up the crappy stairs to the top where the really cheap apartments are. ( no elevators but only four floors ) Knock knock on our own door to find some stranger open the door. Sure enough, the bitch had shipped us off long enough to clear out. So being only nine and ten we sat down on the stairs and started to think what the fuck to do. We knew we were in trouble. Because, you know, we always were right? So staying out of sight was a good idea. We didn't last too long before a few people asked what we were up to. People sort of notice two kids hanging around with bags in their hands late at night and giving excuses like we were waiting for mom to get home. My brother and I got shipped off into the foster child shit storm. Again. We had been there before. He was adopted into one house and I ended up bouncing around and then institutionalized by 15 or so. Managed to rack up a stack of breaking and enter charges and such. Dropped out of school and joined the army at 17. My brother still has a different last name than me and I barely know him any more. Saw him once twenty years ago I think. So cringe worthy is to finally figure out you're a piece of disposable white trash and always were. ( Am doing fine now. )