You sit inside your tiny apartment collecting welfare and disability for your self-inflicted disease, while incessantly screaming at your child, telling him how worthless he is and how he never does anything for you. You scream at him all your waking hours while telling the neighbors it's none of our business. Who do you think pays for your disability and welfare checks? He IS our business—we taxpayers support your pathetic existence, yet we have to endure your selfish, invasive howls. Too self-absorbed to realize the entire building, perhaps block, can hear your degrading impositions. When your son hopefully leaves you and you have only yourself to scream at, remember that you've always been screaming at your ugly self. Get a mirror and see the witch that you are—SHE is not our business!

—Anonymous