Don't Get Me Started with Linda Sharp

Time To Celebrate Amber!

Let's Celebrate NaShara!

Dying To Be Loved

Today I spent ten hours in my minivan.  The day involved driving up to Denton (past Dallas) to pick up Kendall and Lauren from orientation at UNT.

My ass is numb, my legs sore, but that's ok.  It was for my child, a child I have loved since I knew she was growing inside me.  A child I have loved beyond reason every single day of her life.  A child whose hug I would walk through Hell just to feel, her laugh just to hear.

There is nothing I would not do to protect her.  My love is all consuming, without condition, without hesitation, never ending.

That is what EVERY CHILD DESERVES.

Yet so many children come into this world as a result of unprotected sex, not desire to pour every fiber of one's being into parenting and protecting.

There are untold numbers of children in this world living in anguish, marginalized, ignored, abused, hungry - not just for nourishment, but for nurturing.  A hug to so many children would be as welcome as a Happy Meal.

Which brings me to a precious 3 year old who is hospitalized in Oklahoma with injuries so horrific, memories inflicted upon him so heinous, I honestly find myself wishing the angels would come take him away, release him from the unbearable suffering, unimaginable abuse he has endured at the hands of those he should have been able to trust most in this world.

First meet Jennifer Chapman, his "babysitter."  I couch that in quotation marks because the last thing she did was look out for his well being.

This monstrous piece of shit SOLD HIM to two men so they could have sex with him, in exchange for giving her all she really cares about:  METH.

At their hands he was raped repeatedly for hours.  He was forced to drink bleach (his face is covered with chemical burns.  A portion of his scalp/skull was ripped off.  And he had been hung by a dog collar for hours.

Wrap your mind around that.  I can't.  I cannot conceive of hurting any child, let alone a 3 year old little boy.  And it is beyond my mind's ability to grasp how anyone could be so insanely, monstrously cruel.

My heart wants to reach through this story and rescue him.  Hold him.  Tell him he is safe.  That no one will ever hurt him again.

When these masses of sewage were finished torturing him, they returned him to his babysitter, who was staying in a motel with his mother.

Ah, yes - his mother.  Another gem in the humanity crown.  Meet Leana Lauck - another methhead.

Leana told police she knew he was injured but waited to do anything about it - FOR HOURS - EIGHTEEN HOURS.

She was more concerned with what would happen to her if she took him to the hospital.

So she indulged in some more meth with her friend while he lay there suffering, a portion of his head missing.

Again, I find myself very conflicted.  Would death be a sweet release for this tormented child who has endured pure evil?  His body ripped apart, his psyche torn even more.  

As for his mother, babysitter, and the two wastes of oxygen who are still on the loose?  Death is far too easy for them.  They need abused.  They need to feel every ounce of agony, every river of pain that coursed through him, every horrific second of consciousness in which he could not understand what was happening to him or why, only that it was, and it was excruciating.

They need tortured, for TWENTY FOUR HOURS, until they beg for death.  And even then, their wish would not be granted.  They would be dunked in bleach - every open wound a fiery cauldron of fresh pain as the chemicals burn into their flesh.

Then, dump them in a pit and let what life is left slowly eek out of them into the dirt.

I do not want to hear them hide behind meth as their excuse.  I don't want to hear an insanity defense.  I. DON'T. CARE.

They took the most precious thing in this world - a child - and put him through hell for their selfish enjoyment.

This child only deserves Heaven.  LOVE, whether here or in whatever lies beyond our last breath.

These sacks of flesh?  Well, I don't know if Satan could even stomach their presence in Hell.  I imagine even he has standards.

It's Karen's Day!

Further Evidence That Andy Cohen Is The Devil

ANOTHER Bravo "Housewife" under the impression she can sing.

Drop Michael Bolton On The Lonely Island And What Do You Get? A Tsunami Of Laughs

I make no secret of my love for the guys of The Lonely Island - in addition to Matt, Trey, George Carlin, and Erma Bombeck - Jorma, Akiva, and Andy have spots reserved at the dinner party of my dreams.  (Which will take place On A Boat, of course...)

This new video adds in the twist of Michael Bolton unashamedly spoofing on his "image" and his love for Jack Sparrow.

Thanks to Brenda - so good I had to "Facelift" it!

Sticking Their Foot(loose) In It

OK, so I guess this is one of those moments in life when you realize you are old.  

Or at least oldER.

Footloose is a snapshot from my high school years.  I remember walking to the mall to see it - many times.  I knew - still know - the soundtracl by heart.  It is one of those "perfect" things that need not be tampered with, yet here they go again...

Even my daughters are fans of the original and can't figure out why they had to remake it.

What's next?  Cocktail with Zac Efron?  Top Gun with Zack and Cody as Maverick and Goose?  And Justin Beiber as Iceman?

Your thoughts, WIlliard?

 

Just Checking In

Hey everyone - yes, I am still alive and very much appreciate the concerned emails of late.

I know I have been steadily AWOL the past 10 days-ish - I apologize, but real life has truly taken precedence.  There has been a lot of emotional rollercoastering in the Sharp casa and we have circled the wagons, as it were.

As for my Mom, I want to thank you for all your wishes and prayers - as soon as we know more, I will update here.  

Linda

Jackasses To Picket A Jackass

Ryan Dunn died much the way he famously lived - in Jackass fashion.

Yet even though his claim to fame was the Jackass series and movies - stunts including human bar-b-que, latrines being turned upside down with someone inside, countless ballsacs being wacked, life and limb constantly being toyed with - I highly doubt Ryan envisioned tearing ass through the trees, impacting with one, and turning his Porsche into a, well, pardon the irony - human bar-b-que.

Much has been made of his death, and that of his friend in the front seat, in the past 24 hours.  People who call it for what it was - senseless.  A waste.  The what-do-you-expect outcome of drinking and driving.

And they're right.

Which is why so many of his fans have been pissed off.  It's not that they, too, don't know the guy died needlessly, it's that they want to protect his memory, his family's feelings, etc.

All understandable.  At this point, I imagine they see all the criticism as "piling on."  The guy's dead, isn't that bad enough?

Not if he can be a cautionary tale to other jackass mentality people.

Look, the guy loved to drive fast - well documented by friends and family.  The guy did not shy away from alcohol - again, well documented - just hours before the crash he Tweeted a picture of himself and buddies drinking.

Police currently conjecture his car was going over 130mph.  Even Speed Racer would say, "Whoa."

His blood alcohol content from the preliminary test was .196.  The legal limit is .10.

You do the math.

It was stupid.  Ryan Dunn was, if only in that moment, STUPID.

Now, given he is also known for having encased a Matchbox car in a condom and shoving it up his "Holland Tunnel" - one could easily argue he was STUPID a lot.

But, he was also someone's son, someone's boyfriend, friend to a lot of people.  And even stupid people are loved and mourned when they die.  A process those left behind should be allowed to do in private, with dignity, and reverence.

Enter the true jackasses of this world, the ane-holes of Westboro Baptist Church.

Yes, they have announced plans to picket outside Ryan Dunn's funeral, carrying their now predictable placards proclaiming "God Hates Fags" "God Hates America"  "God Hates Rocky Road Ice Cream" - whatever phrase they splash on their signs that deign to speak for God.

Good.

I hope this is the time that all their hateful rhetoric, blasphemy, intentionally inflicted hurt, and bombastic egos bite them in the ass.  I can think of no better assemblage than those who loved this man - folks with big hearts, rough edges, and now painfully raw souls - to meet these cretins head on.

I just hope Johnny Knoxville has the cameras rolling when the real Jackasses finally get their comeUPpance.  

I'll even supply the Matchbox cars and Trojans.

Lady gALgAL