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Jett Superior laid this on you on || March 13, 2002 || 2:05 pm

My take on the whole Andrea Yates issue:

Most of you know that my hideously over-the-top nightmares prevent me from watching or reading current news. Hearing about the state of the world on a daily basis severely aggravates my nighttime forays into madness. I don’t mind being spoon-fed the snippets of the world scene that Maxim provides for me. If I want to explore an issue, to find out more about it, it’s right here at my fingertips. No sweat.

Last night Maxim and I sat on the couch, nuzzling and holding hands, to watch Dateline. The skinhead murder piece had sparked our collective interest.

Dateline tricked us, for at the helm of the program was a brief segment on yesterday’s Yates verdict. Included in it was a snippet of closing statement by the prosecuting attorney. It addressed the fact that the children did not go willingly or understandingly into death, as evidenced by the fact that one of the dead children, when discovered by authorities, still held a fistful of his mother’s hair. Holy Mother of Christ.

At the risk of being patently cliche, I recommend death by drowning while restrained. They should make her husband do it. Then they should put him in the chair and cook his brains, because he knew. He openly admits knowledge of her extensive mental health problems. He left his children in the care of an unmitigated and unmedicated loonybird.

I find the fact that he still supports her after she murdered each and every one of his babies utterly appalling. I have the sneaking suspicion that he may be an unmitigated loonybird as well.

He and every family member, every healthcare provider, every everyone who knew that she had a problem and didn’t persist until she was on an even keel should be tried and convicted. It’s inexfuckingscusable. Mister Numbah One Supportive Husband should die.

And before you even send them, know that your bleeding heart excusemaking messages in response to this post are not welcome. If you don’t agree then kindly shut the fuck up. I’m not flexible on this one.

Nobody worked it out »

Don´t be shy. Lay it on me.

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