My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Black Armband Entry


I wasn’t going to write about this anymore but I find I can’t help it. I have to get this out of the way so I can move on.

The verdict is in: guilty. The sentence: death.

My response: No fucking Duh. Fry his ass today.

While I consider myself fairly liberal in my political leanings, one thing I believe in is the death penalty in certain circumstances. The man who killed Ruby and her family deserves nothing less.

A man who randomly picks a house to rob based on the fact that the door is open; a man who binds and gags a mother, a father, and two children; a man who stabs them, slits their throats, and bludgeons them to death; deserves death. A man who douses the bodies in wine and sets them on fire deserves death.

A man who forces parents to witness the murder of their children, a man who forces children to witness the murder of their parents deserves death. A man who kills and then steals nothing more than a laptop, a wedding ring, and a basket of homemade cookies deserves death.

Nothing more will do.

I walk through my house at night, front and back door wide open, windows up to let in a breeze and the evening serenade of cicadas and crickets and frogs, my children in their beds, and I wonder, “Could it happen to me? What’s to stop someone from pulling into my driveway, on a whim, because I happen to be home, and do away with me and my husband and my children?”


Nothing excuses something like this.

I’ll try to find something more pleasant to talk about later.


9:46 a.m. ::
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