Sad story in Mulletland.

You don't even know how messed up this is.

Let me explain. See, Toledo's East Side is kind of like ... um ... the place where mullets grow freely, cars rest on blocks in alleys, and the summer of 1987 will always be referred to as "the best thing that ever happened to (insert name, place, music genre, etc.)". If you lived there (or dated someone who lived there), you hate it when you're there, and you love it at the same time. It's a badge of pride, you get to wear on your sleeve and for the rest of your life say "hey, I know what life's like -- I'm from the East Side."

If you're from the true East Side, you know it, and you're proud of it. If you're from the Oregon-ish area of the East Side, you get to say "Yeah, I'm from the East Side," and yet you went to Cardinal Stritch. You don't belong with the mullets, and you know it. But, congrats. You are from the east side of the river. You get to make jokes that are in no way ironic about the East Side.

But I digress. If you were too lazy to click on the link, here's what's up: this 17-year-old girl and her 17-year-old loverboy stabbed her brother and were going to kill her family to live in her family's East Side home. Her boyfriend had lived in her closet anyhow, so ... I don't know why anyone had to die. But, it's the East Side, and we don't ask too many questions.

Because that's what love is. Actually, true love is Toledo. Sigh, Toledo.