Last post about that stupid trial — I promise!

So what if I’m beating the horse as it’s being processed at the glue factory?

Everyone’s telling me it’s time to let go. I know that. But if it were me, I sure as hell wouldn’t want the world going back to normal 24 hours later. I’d want an advocate, damn it. As many of them as I could get!

Perhaps as proof of my altered state, I wrote to Nancy Grace. (I know, WTF, right?) I am shocked to say has grown on me in the last two months. BOMBSHELL! 😉

Anyway, I said thanks for pushing for justice for Caylee Anthony — now it’s time to move on and give a voice to the rest of those who don’t have one.

I know Foghorn Leghorn Cheney Mason faults the woman for beating the drum for three solid years and, probably, until the end of time. But irritating though she may be, she has the ability to give people the smackdown in a way the rest of us can only envy.

In an ideal world, I wish I had her advocating for my mom. Maybe she wouldn’t be so sick and in so much pain all the time — she deserves to be well and to live FAR more than “Tot Mom” does.

That’s what I’m maddest about. That four therapists have offered to help the psychopath from Orlando. How about somebody donating some services to someone who isn’t famous?

I don’t have kids. I could, of course. I’ve employed all forms of population control and, therefore, don’t. And I worry if would be as bad a mother as Casey was. I don’t do a lot but I don’t want to have to give that little bit up. Plain and simple.

Caylee became America’s little girl and, thus, mine. I fell in love with her. But the thing we all have to remember is that child, in death, became more-loved than she ever was in life.

I wish we could spotlight the good parents, as well as the people who give their children to better homes where they’re wanted. I hate it that we focus on the crazies.

But that’s just it — I’m sure my Extra Ultra Mega Uber Extended Houseguest from Outer Space has given me FAR more reason to put her on the Space Shuttle than Casey had reason to kill Caylee. I know my ass would FRY if I did what she did.

Of course, now that murder has been declared legal in Florida as of July 5 (verdict day), well, maybe I have some protection under “Florida v. Anthony.” I could only hope for a similar set of jurors who don’t understand that “thinking she did it” does NOT mean “not guilty.” 🙂

Anyway, friends, I won’t be a vigilante for that homely hobag to the north. Although she said she wants to move to South Florida — maybe we can send her to Little Havana (in Miami) and strap a $50 to her (with Henkel duct tape, of course) and see what happens.

And I won’t be tossing the Mega Uber roommate into a swamp, either. But none of this will ever stop me from praying for a world where everyone will be wanted and loved, at any age and in all circumstances.

Too bad my pudgy pork roast ass is too big for me to run for Miss America. I want world peace, damn it!

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