First it was Terry Schiavo and that whole mess with Tom DeLay and the rest of those fascist bastards who think they know more than our nation’s founding fathers.
Then it was the Pope-a-thon, where I couldn’t watch anything without seeing the death watch, the subsequent Cardinal-watch, and finally the coronation of hisself, the mighty Benedict the XVIth.
But then, it happened. A true tragedy.
A 32 year old white woman from an affluent family disappeared while on a jog last Tuesday, just five days before her 600 person, 8 attendant, uber socialite wedding at one of metro Atlanta’s more exclusive country clubs.
Astounding. Gwinnett County officials and citizens as well as the GBI and the FBI got involved and expended enormous time, energy and invested a ton of themselves, hoping against hope to find this woman.
(Now, let me preface this by saying that my 8-year old nephew said from the first time he saw her picture that she “had crazy eyes.” I agreed).
Anyway, we were kept up to date by local and national media as the story “the missing bride to be” gathered steam. Hell, my sister in law was in a Pope JP II like frenzy over this one.
Oh, and another sidebar. Thanks to the Scott Peterson’s of the world, it’s apparently standard practice to ignore the spouse/boyfriend/fiancee’s constitutional rights and demand thru the media that he take a lie detector test.
Are those results admissable in court? No. Has he been charged with anything? No.
How about if we have this lie detector test taped and conducted at a neutral location (offered John Mason’s all to generous attorneys).
“Ummmm…no. We don’t do it that way,” said local law enforcement.
Here is where I would add “fuck you, local law enforcement.” Then I would quote the movie Raising Arizona where Nathan Arizona said “Dammit, are you boys gonna chase down your leads or are you gonna sit drinkin’ coffee in the one house in the state where I know my [insert missing family member’s relationship here] ain’t at?”
Anyway, the miracle of miracles shows up on the Saturday morning news.
SHE’S ALIVE!!! SHE’S ALIVE!! IT’S A MIRACLE!!
Um, no. It’s not a miracle.
What it is, is a 32 year old rich self-absorbed, narcissistic white woman who’s obviously crazier than a shit house rat, got cold feet and ran away from what I would guess are non-refundable costs of between sixty and one hundred thousand dollars for the wedding and all of the crap surrounding it.
That’s it.
Oh, she did file a false police report here and in New Mexico to weakly try to cover her tracks. But the funny thing about the Feds and agencies whose names contain letters like B.I. and such is that they have a knack for finding the trail.
Like the fact that this bitch bought a bus ticket a week before running away.
Now, it’s come to light that this couple has been engaged for over five years. Who the fuck does that? I mean, unless you secretly get engaged in ninth grade or something, no normal folks stay engaged for that long. They either get married or pull the pin on the relationship.
Oh, and did I mention that this psycho has apparently run from an engagement and subsequent wedding before this one?
That’s right. So now you know that sometime prior to about 1990 when she would have been younger than 27 (more like early 20’s since most folks don’t meet, date, get engaged, plan a wedding and run out on it over the course of a weekend), she did this before. Her family knew it. Her friends knew it. Yet no one gave a shit enough to mention it to the groom-to-be?
That’s the kind of goddamn information I’d like to have when I’m making the “should I or shouldn’t I” decision at the Shane Company diamond counter.
So if I’m John Mason, do you know what I’m doing? I’m confirming the honeymoon plans that were probably 10 days to two weeks in Tahiti or some such place, and I’m hiring the two hottest hookers I can find, and I’m taking them with me. And I’m sending home photo updates to my ex-fiance every day, including a web-cast of all of the threesomes we’d be having in the Champagne suite of the Hotel suckee suckee or wherever I chose to stay. That’s it. All I’m out is what I paid to buy 14 monogrammed flasks at “Groomsmen R’ Us.”
So, in light all that I mentioned prior to my secret whore plan, the genius that’s her fiancee, instead of running like the wind, is defending her. He even went so far as to offer this quite defiant quote on ABC:
“Her cutting her hair and getting on a bus and riding out of here ain’t none of (prosecutor) Danny Porter’s business,” John Mason said. “And that’s not criminal as far as I’m concerned.”
Maybe not, shit for brains. But the fact that she filed a false police report in New Mexico and reported a false crime to the sheriff here is.
By the way, here are a list of the agencies that were inconvenienced by Jennifer’s Wild Ride, Part Two (or more, depending upon what investigators dig up when they look back as far as this loony’s early 20’s):
GBI, FBI, Gwinnett County District Attorney’s Office, Gwinnett County Police Department, Gwinnett County Sheriff’s Department, Gwinnett County Fire Department, Swift Water Rescue, DNR, Hall County Fire Department, Hall County Sheriff’s Department, Gainesville Police Department, Fayette County Sheriff’s Department K-9, Haralson County Sheriff’s Department K-9, Office of Homeland Security, Gwinnett County Emergency Management, American Red Cross, Gwinnett Community Emergency Response Team, Gwinnett Citizens Police Academy, the Alpha K-9 Search and Rescue, and Gwinnett Amateur Radio Association.
That’s a lot of folks missing meals with their families, not solving other crimes, in one case missing a fellow law enforcement officer’s funeral, and many other things they could have been doing if Miss Doesn’t Know The Earth Doesn’t Revolve Around Her” had just said “I want out.”
I also think that since her family offered $100,000 for information leading to her return, they oughta be ordered to donate that sum to the agencies involved. I also think that someone needs to prosecute her or file a civil case against her for the money and time she wasted while she apparently stuffed a 7/11 burrito in her face at a payphone in New Mexico.
And by the way, do you even know where a payphone is now? I mean, since you’re staging this whole thing anyway, at least carry a fucking cell phone in case you accidentally get yourself in trouble. You were, after all, travelling by bus, which is not the safest way in the world to get to Vegas. And their big city stations leave a little something to be desired. Of course, you’re a box full of crazy anyway, so I imagine that combined with your homemade haircut had you fitting right in with all the psychopaths.
So, after everyone invested all kinds of time, some blamed the husband, some probably blamed the imaginary hispanic man or men that she said kidnapped her (the fucking racist), what do we have?
We have a pathetic, self-centered, possibly crazy chick that probably STILL doesn’t think what she did was wrong, and as she and her family lawyers craft some irritating statement that will include phrases like “sorry this happened” and “unfortunate occurance,” she will STILL not accept responsibility and because of her connections, she’ll be put back into society as if this never happened.
Except it did. I mean, how does she go back to work? “Hi Jennifer. Hey…how was Vegas by the way? Did you happen to catch Sigfried?”
I hope her life is ruined. I also hope that the family of the victim of some crime that wasn’t solved or prevented because people were looking for Jennifer will find her and thank her for being so self-centered. That would be really nice.
Oh, and one more thing.
Fuck you, Jennifer and fuck you national news. For one weekend can something big or seemingly big not happen so I can just sit and enjoy my Friday post-work beers in peace?
Thank for reading.
What say you?