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Or a playstation or a flat screen TV or a newer car, etc and etc. I know people that work under the table for half their pay and get paid on the books for the rest and collect welfare. I know of drug dealers that collect for tax purposes even though they pull in thousands of untaxed money each month dealing. Tell me how I am not supposed to be upset with these people like I am with greedy corporate cronies? I’m not heartless. These people are selfish and unethical.

Except not everyone who has nice things is automatically cheating the system. People are given things as gifts. People buy things and THEN qualify for assistance. People save up for nice things.

You can’t assume what someone’s situation is just by what they own.

We were eating only donated Panera bread, rice, and turnips. My father was sneaking to the various blood banks in town to sell his plasma at twice the rate they allow. My mother was dying due to not having her medicine, which cost well over $1,200 a month after insurance.

My autistic baby brother wanted to do something nice for me.

He worked for months making custom art pieces to sell. He worked up courage despite crippling social anxiety and speech problems to ask the neighbors if he could do chores for them to earn more money - raking the yard, helping clean their house, walking their dogs.

For nine months he carefully hoarded his money in a jar in his bedroom. He counted it every single night and compared it to the cost of what he wanted to get for me for Christmas.

Finally he had enough. He bought me a DS Lite and a pokemon game.

He was so happy.

Until one of our neighbors, a highly conservative jackass, saw me with it outside a couple weeks later. My brother was with me.

The neighbor stormed up and became screaming at us, a pair of teenagers, over how we could be so selfish to spend money on “electronic shit” when we were a family on food stamps. Spittle flying from his lips, cuss words every other second, rage radiating off of him so violently that our father came running out of the house - at a limp, since his spine is broken, which causes him horrific daily pain beyond what I can imagine - to protect us.

My brother was never the same again. There is no happy ending here. That episode in his life changed him permanently and for the past seven years he has almost never left his room and never gone to a friend’s house. He is terrified of the neighbors and believes he is a bad person.

Because of fucking people like you OP.

Because of fuckers who believe that they know what life is like for everyone and have a right to judge.

So fuck you OP. If you know drug dealers, report them, go on and put your ass on the line then. But for fuck’s sake don’t you dare thing you understand what goes on in the life of the people who live in never-ending, grinding poverty. Because you have *no fucking clue* what goes on in the detailed lives of others.

You want to talk selfish? Look in the fucking mirror.

This is an important post.

that time Bill O Reily was shocked and appalled that poor people could afford *gasp* A TV AND A FRIDGE IN THEIR APT?
and went on a rant saying these ppl shouldn’t be on welfare because they have a plasma tv and fridge because obviously poor people need to not have tvs and fridge because poor ppl should be storing their food underground in holes and draw on walls with stones and sticks for entertainment.

When I was a child on welfare, eating rotten lunch meat, walking in shoes with cardboard in the bottoms to cover the holes, I had an extensive collection of My Little Ponies.  Not “one or two horses”; over three hundred, all told, and almost all the major playsets.  Maybe, oh, 10% of the total came from my mother, over the course of the eight years I spent collecting and living with her.  The rest were gifts from family members who didn’t know about our situation, but knew from Gramma’s chatty “everything is fine” letters that I loved My Little Pony.  They were from the charity groups that let you sign up and specify what your children wanted for Christmas.  They were from me saving every penny I found on the street.  They were from favorite teachers who knew how poor we were, who wanted me to have birthday happiness.  We’re talking thousands of dollars of plastic horses, almost none of which took a dime from Mom’s budget.  And the ones that did?  She was a mother trying not to break her daughter’s heart.

Every time someone yelled at us because poor people shouldn’t have nice things, we all died a little inside, and I clutched my horses even harder.  I needed something bright and beautiful in the world, to make up for the roaches in the walls and the mold growing on the butter.

Unless you’re someone’s accountant, you don’t know where they’re putting their money, and it’s not your place to judge.

I know that we’re talking about nice things here specifically but I have a food story that I think fits.  We were super duper ultra extra poor when I was a little kid to the point that my parents did not eat so that my brother and I could have cheap ass spagettios for dinner.  That’s not an exaggeration, they went without food, sometimes for days, so that we could have the cheapest food they could buy.  It was rough.  The thing is, though, that when I was a kid I had no idea how poor we were.  I know it now looking back with adult reasoning abilities, I know that when my mom said things like “I’m not hungry” or “I just worked out on my lunch break” it really meant we couldn’t afford for her to eat too.  We were lucky to have family who bought us things and my parents hid it well.  When it got to the end of the month and there was no more food left and no more money for food left my parents would search every place they could find for loose change and take us to baskin robbins for dinner.  It was always presented as being a huge treat, it was a big deal, it was special and wonderful and magical and always made me and my brother so so happy.  Of course we really did that because 2 kid cones for dinner costed like a dollar back then, it was cheaper than McDonalds.  

But every time some jackass goes off about poor people eating unhealthy foods I think about that and I think about the fact that it was those little things that my parents did that helped us not realize how poor and terrible everything was.  It allowed us to be kids and not have the stress of crippling poverty constantly hanging over our heads.  It was a good thing that my parents did that for us.  Children deserve to be shielded from that and if you’re someone who honestly believes that kids should have to suffer for people to be “really” poor then you are a disgusting, terrible, awful human being and you deserve nothing but bad things in life.  If a parent can give something happy to a child (be it “nice things” or junk food), if a parent can shield children from the realities of poverty, if a parent can keep kids from finding out just how bad things really are then that parent absolutely should always do that no matter what it takes.  That’s good parenting, that’s kick ass parenting, that’s a wonderful, glorious thing and if you can’t get behind that then there is nothing moral in you at all.

But the iPhone thing is true… If you can afford a 200 dollar phone AND 50+ dollar phone bill every month, but not food for your kids, there is a problem.

No, the iPhone thing is NOT true. Not even slightly. First off, not every iPhone is $200. You realize that, right? Only the smack-dab-brand-newest iPhone 5s is $200 on contract. 5c is $100 on contract. 4/4s is usually FREE on contract. And that’s not counting your friend saying, “hey, I just got a new phone… do you want mine?” Free without contract. That’s not counting that many places take iPhones as donations to give to the needy. Also free without a contract.

And who are you to determine that they don’t need whatever phone bill they have? First off, there are lots of pre-paid plans now for below $50/mo. Second, maybe, just maybe, that person’s job gives them no choice but to have that, but doesn’t pay for it. Maybe being able to track and care for their family requires that. Mobile phone service isn’t a luxury anymore, it’s a necessity. I don’t know many people with a job and a family who can make it day-to-day without it. So yeah, minimal data plan, prepaid, simple, and an iPhone? Absolutely, positively justifiable.

Sorry, but you’re making the same terrible error the OP made. Think, and stop judging.

Arizona Is Only State To Stop Welfare Checks During Shutdown


Arizona appears to be the only state to have stopped cutting welfare checks during the federal government shutdown, the Arizona Republic reportedFriday.

Republican Gov. Jan Brewer’s administration announced this week that 5,700 families eligible for Temporary Assistance for Needy Families would not be receiving their checks, which average $207 a month, while the federal government is shut down.

Federal officials have told state welfare directors that they could use alternative sources of funding during the shutdown to keep assistance programs funded, and they will be reimbursed when the federal government re-opens.

Shorter Arizona: Fuck you for being poor.

Yes, false rape accusations happen. Run the protocol anyway. I’ve heard that perhaps the military has the highest number of ‘em. True or not, RUN THE PROTOCOL ANYWAY. Because in 15 years of investigating rape accusations, I can count those that panned out as false on one hand. Meanwhile, the one time I almost skipped the protocol, the one time I almost didn’t believe a petty officer, because I was naive as an investigator and a young woman, because her commanding officer described her as “a party girl, always late, always out drinking, don’t bother with this one”, she turned out to be the victim of one of the most brutal assaults I’ve ever investigated. She shouldn’t have still been -alive-, let alone up and making the accusation. So let me repeat: five false accounts in fifteen years. And one time I almost failed a woman ‘cause of the bullshit way it’s normal to talk about us. Take your shipmates’ word, and then run the protocol. Every. Single. Time.
 - JAG lawyer, speaking to my husband’s plant during Sexual Assault Prevention Month. (via circusbones)
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