The shared bank account with Al Sharpton is geting low and needs replenishing. Sympathy is found in the dictionary between sh** and syphilis.
Via NY Daily News
People called him Mouse, because he was so quiet that you hardly noticed he was there. You know the kid, right?
The one who was always giggling at the neighborhood swimming pool, where the park director used to playfully chase him around then call him “her baby” while helping him do his homework?
His name is Trayvon. Trayvon Martin. You remember him, don’t you? The 17-year-old who, three years ago, had been visiting the home of his father’s girlfriend on a rainy Sunday night and had gone out to a local convenience store to get Skittles and iced tea.[…]
He was the one who grew up on these corners of Miami Gardens, not the easiest of streets to navigate. Some friends called him Tray, others Tay-Tay. He was learning how to cook and would make meals for them.
He’s the one who got his first haircut, when he was a baby, from a guy named Steve Bass, who has the picture on his phone to prove it. He’s the one who mowed lawns to make extra money. He’s the one who loved to go roller skating at Galaxy Skateway with his friend Aiyanna Fleming. They went all the time, she says.
He was the one who was a jokester, a prankster. He’s the one who was interested in aviation and dreamed of becoming a pilot someday. And he’s the one who was going to college, that’s for sure, says his mother. There’s no doubt in her mind. Florida A&M was going to be the school, says Fleming. They talked about going together.
He’s also the one you’ll find buried in a crypt behind an inch-thick slab of granite at Dade Memorial Park on Opa-Locka Blvd. His final address: MDCU 10 South Row A Crypt 9.[…]
Sybrina Fulton just doesn’t have time for this. She has a speaking engagement at Carol City Middle School in less than an hour, and she’d better be on her way. She has a mountain of work ahead with the anniversary of her son’s death fast approaching. In just over a week she’ll host the “I am Trayvon — Day of Remembrance Peace Walk” followed by the third annual Remembrance Dinner. She’s in constant motion, and the idea of stopping is agonizing.
“I’m going to kill you,” she says, when asked for a few more photos, candids this time, shots of her working.[…]
They have a hard time believing Trayvon exploded on Zimmerman that night three years ago. They can’t imagine him saying the things that Zimmerman claimed. They can only recall him losing his cool once, when he was about 11, over a video game joystick. Everyone laughs.