A 16 year old was convicted for the murder of his best friend, whom he slashed across the throat, and for the murder of the victim's grandparents. The Judge gave him 60 years. The rest of the story is located here, and follows as a pretty garden variety "shocking local tragedy" piece, with overtones of peer pressure and "that rock n' roll music" thrown in for the spider bots from CBN and Focus on the Family.

Story

Really nondescript, except for this:

"...Under the guidance of Sue and Matheny, Grimes rebelled against his parents, severed his ties to his church and was ordered to worship fire hydrants, Barron was told..."

Oh really. I guess that our apotheosis of FD's everywhere had to give way to this sort of rampant cult fetishism.

Now for a little bit of cultish fetishism for my xmx.:

On this side, the French, on the other side, the English - don't mix the two up.
(mumbles something in meter'd French) As an apostrophe to my love I offer these drawn-out lines:

Que prenez-vous quand il-fait froid? Tu! je prends tu! The other night I woke up/ There was a spider my bed. I thought about you


Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Arret! It was a handsome spider. And I decided to let it rest there - for it resembled your eyes so much, I could not bring myself to squish it.

Je a passe toute la journee a faire ses valises. And then I turned and went to sleep and thought of you confident that the spider would not bite me

Voila! It did!
Si un etranger demande votre nom, le lui donnez-vous? Aye, even the poisonous bite of my deadly bedfellow was given unto me to be recorded as pure pleasure.

Gerard Depardieu peut jouer tous les roles As my nervous system began to shut down, and the flesh surrounding the bite first to swell, and then to disintegrate, I thought about you and your recklessness with your hips.

And as the poison reached and bestilled my heart, I saw, for one last time the bounce of your hair and the wide arches of your smile.

Then as the last residue of oxygen evaporated from my brain, I heard you voice, and the claminess that flows from my palms at the anticipation of your arrival, mixed with the claminess of death.

And then I died, gripping your polaroid...

And I was dead

Not breathing,

Without a pulse.


expired.




not living anymore.












Gone!




But not lost, having constructed a monument with my words and sentiments more lasting than bronze!




By that I mean, these words, to you, my love




here!





Forever!





Not to be forgotten!
xmx 4 eva! Wid class!