Houston, Texas I’ve bitched and moaned about the judicial system allowing people to skate by on insanity pleas. I’ve always regarding “insanity” as a moot point for it can be argued that anyone committing some of the more heinous crimes are indeed, “insane”. Generally, I think it’s an easy out for some of these fuckers, those who know full-well what the hell they’ve done, know the consequences, and can act well enough to cop an easy deal spending time in a mental facility.
I wrote about one guy who’d murdered an old lady, set her on fire, and was found “insane”. He was further rewarded by earning day trips out with the other “containable” wards and one particular trip was to the County Fair where he was “insane” enough to slip away from the employees and go on the lamb for several days. That shit just pisses me the hell off. It happens time and time again, they spend their “time” in a play home and then some crackpot shrink petitions the courts saying they’re now cured of what ailed them and they’re out with no probation only to become a murderous, raping, fuckwad again.
And then there’s these two brothers. Twins. Their story has taught me there’s an exception…because I’m here to say you only have to look at these twins to realize they’re a little left of center and just knowing they stepped over their dead rotting mother for three months pretty much seals the deal. (more…)
Bangor, Maine I know there are some extremely jealous married women out there, especially when it comes to any “ex” their husband may have. At one time, prior to being married, Mr. Goat called me by his ex’s name. I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and gave him one of those “What the…” looks and as the realization of what had happened settled into that sometimes confusing head of his, he explained how it should be taken as a compliment. Fourteen years later, I’m still processing that statement. My point is: I didn’t beat him to a bloody pulp over the mention of her name, I didn’t maim him after running into her at some store. No. I save those feelings of rage for leaving cabinet doors open, toilet seat lids up, and grape jelly smeared across the counter-top – those daily reminders that some men are just brain damaged. Not once has jealousy sent me into a tailspin to where I’d take a plastic ball bat and ram it through his ballsack to his guts.
The same cannot be said for Roxanne Jeskey, the 48-year-old crazy bitch who’s now accused of the torture and death of her husband because of a phone call between he and his ex. (more…)
Mt. Sterling, Illinois Some who’ve read this site over the past year may think I’ve got some kind of hard-on for Central Illinois police departments. While I understand the conclusion one would draw, I’m going to make it perfectly clear I adore the men and women in brown who actually work for the State, but as it’s turning out, those who wear blue are lacking training, resources, and basic common sense which ultimately ends in more victims than need-be. Small town departments are full with eager-minded individuals who don’t seem to possess any skills other than being able to write a traffic citation and who suffer from an over-abundance of ego. Small town departments need to use their ready-made resources (town
gossip knowledge) to guide them in the right direction. Big cities’ departments don’t have that luxury. They actually have to find the pieces of the puzzle before they can attempt to put the shit together. Small town? The pieces are easily found. Let me give you an example: Mt. Sterling, Illinois, population around 2,000, several suspicious fires, rumors of one person being present prior to the fires starting. One large house fire takes hold around 3:30am – so hot it melts the neighbor’s siding. One person dead. It takes 6 months for a coroner’s inquest to rule the death a homicide. 6 months of crucial time that could have been spent torturing interrogating, tailing, and arresting the person(s) for murder. In a small town, how is it that everyone knows but the ones who are actually responsible for making an arrest? Why is it coming up on three years that Kathy Blentlinger was killed and there’s been nothing more than lip-service? (more…)
Tenino, Washington Imagine being a policeman on patrol in a town of less than 1500. Not much goes on. Evenings are probably spent riding around busting people for stopping in the middle of the street to visit, running stop signs, and giving directions out of town for those who’ve stumbled in wishing to get out. Imagine being on patrol and getting flagged down and told something that was so unbelievable, you don’t know whether to laugh at the guy or get him committed into some mental institution. Especially if that guy were telling you something similar to, ‘I was on this trail and some kid stopped me and asked if I’d help him get rid of a dead body that was in his truck…” and as you’re listening, the guy looks up at a passing vehicle and exclaims something like: “THAT’S HIM”! (more…)
East St. Louis, Illinois Number 1, avoid East St. Louis like the plague. You’ll immediately know you’re there because, like Lewis Black describes North Korea, it’s so evil the color has completely been sucked out. And the monkeys from the Wizard of Oz live there. Think I’m kidding? Test me if you dare. It’s not a good place. Now even though downtown St. Louis proper is cool, there are still places there that creep me the fuck out.
St. Louis is built on the banks of the Muddy Mississippi with the downtown area right along those banks. It’s really a neat place to walk around – parts of the riverfront have been completely restored into quaint little restaurants and shops. But right next door to those restored beauties are abandoned warehouses that look as though they’ve housed some form of torture chambers. And
running walking past them, I could swear sometimes if my heart wasn’t pounding a deafening beat in my eardrums, screams could be heard. And guess what? It turns out I’m a psychic. Those freaky little mini-movies that have played out in 3-second segments in my mind came true in one East St. Louis warehouse. (more…)
Lake Cushman, Washington I know better than to “read more” on a child abuse story. I really do. As anyone who’s read me for a long time knows, I hate these stories but believe in exposing the monsters who prey upon them. I’m just not the person for the writing job. They affect me deeply and once I get sucked in, I become so consumed with what the hell drives adults to do these things that I end up writing them. And I would have looked over this story with hope someone else would pick it up had it not been for the picture of this darling little girl and the words, “slashed throat”. And after reading about a dozen police accounts, mother’s statement, and probable cause report, I was so disgusted and sucked in that I had to tell little 5-year-old Clare Louise Shelwell’s story. (more…)
Eureka, California Just how crazy is crazy? This seems to be an ongoing debate in the court system these days when defense attorneys are using the “insanity” plea as a way to get their client a reduced sentence, sentenced to a mental facility, or better yet, acquittal. I really believe anyone who’s committing the majority of these crimes are crazy and should face the same fate to which everyone else is subjected. There have been too many cases “won” under this umbrella and honestly, it just fucking makes me sick. One of my favorite examples is Andrea Yates, the female-type psycho bitch from hell who systematically drowned her 5 children in their bathtub and then laid their dead bodies out for display on a bed. Is that the act of a rational human being? HELL NO. Is she insane? Probably – again, that was not the act of a rational human being. However, I will never believe, in the course of time it took to chase, hunt down, and drown each child, something didn’t snap in that fucked up head of hers that made her say, ‘hey, this is insane”, and like quit at drowning child #3. But now instead of a jail cell, she spends her time sitting in the day room of some “home”, drugged up and happy as a clam away from other women in prison who had to leave their children at home. But then there’s criminals like Jarrod Wyatt, who also did not display the actions of a rational human being as cops charged his home and found him standing naked and bloody on the couch towering over the body of his good friend. (more…)