Pages

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

What ends up in trash box?

Offers this week included (but not limited to) a change in penis size, breast size and bank account. Not necessarily related to each other if I clicked on either "opportunity". I could go back to school, get a better credit rating, buy a car, take inches off my waist, clean out my colon, remove at least ten years of wrinkles from my face. Why wouldn't I want to take criminal justice classes on line, find a new mate over 50, find a play mate under 30, secure my computer from viruses, buy enhancement drugs on line, find a lawyer, improve my vocabulary. But I was stuck on the offer to change my penis size. How would they would the size--whether it needed to be larger or smaller? How would they know if I even had a penis? Breasts...well, everyone has breasts. But I don't think they meant male breasts, now did they?
Listen, you computer hounds, you low life hackers, whackers and degenerates. Leave me and a zillion other people alone. Don't send any more garbage to my/our email box. I didn't give you the address and I don't want your junk! You are a plague---a rodent, a rat couldn't carry a worse virus. Find another hobby.
My trash box is bulging with unwanted, unsolicited crap, junk, garbage, nonsense and ...and...and...misinformation.
Listen, you low lifes....I don't have a penis and, no, I don't want to buy one!
Shouldn't there be a law against....... but them some of the trash comes from political parties. Most often from the one that I don't give a rat's ass about. So I guess my angst will have to go in another direction...ah, a perfect place. My blogspot....sorry to dump all of this on you but I sure needed the relief. My poor computer? I'm sure it will blow up one day. So full of trash penis ads, drug fixes, colon cleansers, acne removers, odor reducers that it will explode into one giant waste cloud and ride high in the sky to rain like a moonsoon over the world. I hope most of the by-product falls on the heads of the low lifes who spew this stuff across the internet. I'm hoping...whoops another bing. I've got mail. Oh my god, omg...another offer. No, damn, that part of me doesn't need to be any bigger either...no!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Mystery of the Minds

What in the world was she thinking? A mystery, maybe one that will never be solved. How many of us have had children at an early age, skipped the fun and excitement of being a unencumbered young adult into their late twenties. Eager to explore the world, dance all night....but instead accepted the responsibility of raising our child, children because of youthful, fanciful love? What was she thinking when she left her child on that fateful night? Sex, lots of it with a new boyfriend? Late night frolicking, beer, wine and tatoos? Oops...an accident...now I'm free. What was she thinking?
I have a difficult time believing Casey Anderson didn't know her actions and wrongful intent caused the death of her child. Accident or not. Of course she knew. An accident...scream, cry, demand 911 even if the child appears dead. Did she blatantly murder her child? Plot and plan...connect the dots...follow her actions. They speak more than words.
Only the most callous, disheartened person could stuff a tot's body in a laundry bag and then tape her in garbage bags. Even vicious sex offenders who take young girls and kill them leave the bodies in a fairly convenient location for others to give them a proper farewell.
Mothers kill their babies and walk away without batting an eye. Read a police report next week or the next. Infants in toilets, battery cases resulting in death Strange cases in the books about mothers caught after the second or third child died under mysterious conditions. The Smith case comes to mind where she strapped her young sons in the back seat of her car and let them drown. That mother blatantly lied, too, but didn't throw anyone, her family, under the bus. But this Casey gal had the bus going full throttle...and never lost the defiant, in your face, attitude. She never appeared to be shamed or embarrassed by her 'molester father or brother'. Smug towards her father, all smiles for the brother...for what reason?
I wonder where she'll sleep when the jail door is opened. Will she beg her parents to take her into their shattered lives after they tried everything to get at the truth? Will her brother take her in? Will one or many of her sorry-ass boyfriends sleep with her again...maybe...not much sex in a jail cell. Bella Vita. Or will she rise to notorious fame and live off the profits netted from her dead child? What is she thinking?
It's another sad day for Caley Anderson. Who's mourning her death? Not the mother...she's estactic that she's soon to be free. Not the defense lawyer who said this was all about the death penalty. Oh yes, he spoke rather eloquently, humble after the jury verdict...'she didn't murder her daughter'...but then roled into his cause to shame our system of law that allows the death penalty for heinous criminals. What was he thinking? Caley is dead...gone...and she was rendered a death penalty that no one could ever call humane.
So questions will remain...many unanswered. We are a mystery, we humanes. But for those who know how they feel about the terrible injustice for Caley Anderson, let's remember to not buy into any profit making endeavor this callous mother ventures into. Whether she blatantly, with free will, killed her daughter, we may never know but we will know she didn't do what a reasonable person would do if an accident occured. How can she sleep at night? What was she thinking?