Day #18
I have to admit, I’m not in all that much of a lovey-dovey mood right now. Had just exited the North Andover Demon Hang Out (by which I mean the local Stop & Shop), when yet another stupid woman with shopping cart issues screeched into the parking lot. A previous NAD (North Andover Demon) had left her shopping cart in the middle of a parking space, since most women in North Andover are too fat, narcissistic and lazy to even consider rolling it over to the shopping cart bay. The demon who rolled in behind the previous demon was annoyed to find a shopping cart in her parking space. Stomped on the brake. Came growling out of her car. Grabbed the offending shopping cart from where it was bobbing against her front bumper. Then with all her might, shoved the cart towards the bay with a snarl. Only problem was, she didn’t care that there were people (i.e., including moi) in the space between her and the cart bay. She missed hitting me by 1/10th of an inch, and only because I twisted myself into a pretzel and wrenched my back trying to jump out of the way of the flying cart.
After I’d called her a “stupid c**t” and she’d directed me to have sexual relations with myself (she’s angry at ME? Damn cow nearly upended me, and she’s pissed at ME?), we parted company in extremely bad moods. I stumbled home and lay down on the bed trying to soothe my back, and wishing I were the Empress of America so that I could have her arrested and shot. Teach HER to shove shopping carts at people …! Then it occurred to me that if I were Empress of America I could also have those fake “Real Housewives of New Jersey” arrested and shot as well, which cheered me up a bit.
A day later, I was actually somewhat worried. My lower back was in such severe pain it felt like my spine had felt, pre-spinal fusion surgery. That stupid North Andover c**t demon had managed to regress me physically back to late 2010. Now I truly DID believe that most of the idiot women in North Andover needed to be marched onto the nearest soccer field and shot, to spare society their evil idiocy.
As if to confirm the desperate need for it on a national level, a few days later Christine O’Donnell’s handlers forgot to plug her full of Midol before sending her out to be interviewed by Piers Morgan – she had a PMS level hissy fit and stomped off in a huff when she couldn’t control the interview. (OD’d on Fox News did we, dear? Forgot what country we were REALLY in? The one where trying to control the press was a no-no? Thought as much. The woman looked and acted like a demented harrigan.)
It might have been alright if she’d stopped there, but she didn’t. A day later, when people started making fun of her, she went running around the morning talk shows, accusing the guy of sexual harassment (new definition of sexual harassment: when a journalist asks you questions about the sexual issues you wrote about in the book you’re hawking).
In other words, it was so NOT the definition of sexual harassment that, listening to her, I started to get seriously pissed off. Every once in a while, women truly ARE the victims of sexual harassment, and believe me when I tell you, it ain’t pretty when it happens. That Christine O’Donnell put her demented self on par with women who genuinely suffer when their bosses demand sex in exchange for job security made you want to lean over your feet and rolf on your shoes. Worse, she suddenly reminded me of another broad who did the same thing: by telling an appalling lie about being raped, she made it ten times worse for women who genuinely WERE raped. Remember Tawana Brawley? The fool who was the faux cause celebre (excuse the absence of accent marks) of Al Sharpton and his cronies? That was Christine: racing around and wailing, “Oh, lawdy, lawdy, ah’s been sekshually harassed!”, just like Tawanna did, leaving a gory trail of destroyed lives in her wake. OK, so maybe Piers wasn’t destroyed. But she certainly tried to destroy the credibility of woman who were the actual victims of sexual harassment.
Yes, friends and neighbors, thanks to Christine O’Donnell, the “Tea Party” had slithered down into the mud of finality and was now the “T” (for “Tawana”) Party. Cheerio and pip pip.
Luckily, the nauseating Christine was bumped out of the news by the announcement of the release of the “West Memphis Three”. I’d watched a special on them a year or so ago; and at that point, they were just fighting for a new trial. Suddenly, in the headline news: “West Memphis Three Released!” I went over to CNN to see what had happened.
Well, what happened was that the Arkansas political old boy’s club were too arrogant and stupid to admit they’d seriously f**cked up when they’d falsely imprisoned the teenagers in the first place, and released them after making them recite, “Even though I am innocent of all charges, I am pleading guilty for the good of the state …” – supposedly, the state didn’t want to get sued for false imprisonment, and that’s how they got out of it.
Typical Arkansas Republicans. Money was far more important to them than human lives. In fact, there’s an entire battery of Arkansas Republican yahoos still yowling about the release, which is not surprising, since most of them are too uneducated to understand the concepts of “DNA” and “evidence” anyway.
The truth was, they could have indicted ME for the same crime, based on the evidence they had against Echols, for example – that he had read books by Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Ann Rice. Wow. And hey, he had an alibi, and I didn’t! (He was on the phone with three separate people during the time the kids were killed). I even wore all black the other day. And this is the teenager they threw onto death row. Based on that alone … death row, here I come!
By the next day, Echols had mentioned that he’d spent the next morning of much deserved freedom trying to maneuver his way through that new-fangled device, the i-Phone. I’m thinking, “Great. He’s been in solitary for almost 20 years and already he’s more technologically adept than I am.”
