PICS
Have finally joined the modern world and gotten a cell phone. Which means I now have Instagram. If you want to see pictures of my life, follow me there.
Amina took this picture of me in Vegas. Our trip... was awesome.
Amina took this picture of me in Vegas. Our trip... was awesome.
Hot off my blog. Committing these to the internet since I answer them so often. Now I have a link.
Answers to 2 SG related FAQ
#1. “Should I join SuicideGirls“. SG is not the same site today that it was when I joined in 2002. Back when we walked to school uphill both ways and LIKED IT, all because the other tramps we were walking with were so fucking cool. And my experience with SG was supercalafragalistic; it was what it was because I made it that way, because the moon was in the 5th house. My experience is MY experience, not yours. SO. I have answered this question countless times like this:
* *Do you want to make a living from taking off your clothes? If yes, do hardcore porn. Plenty of internet and film companies exist that take alt models. Learn to strip. Keep your head on straight and have fun.
* *Do you want to possibly make a little extra cash, and be known, forever more, as one of the legions? If yes, join SG. Community remains there, and it may be just what you are looking for. Keep your head on straight and have fun.
#2. “Do you regret doing SuicideGirls“. No. Because, duh. It was a blast. I made a living for myself through SG and because of SG. I took moderate to mediocre pictures of myself, posted them on the internet and magical opportunities abounded. It was really, truly, pretty damn terrific.
Best of all, those other girls I walked to school with, both ways uphill, were some of the most awesome women I could have ever have imagined I would have the honor of calling friends. I have not seen some of them for half a decade now. Some longer. Some, I have never actually met in person.
But those women are still out there, reminding me that not ALL women have two faces.
Those women are out there, reminding me to harden the fuck up. To remain positive. To not have any guilt about who I am or what I’m into.
Couldn’t be more grateful for each and every one of them. No matter what path we picked to follow, no matter how different, we are all where we want to be. And that is a beautiful thing.
In praise of women with confidence. Women uncovered, with their honesty and straight forwardness, truly without disguise. Women with balls and brains enough to conduct themselves, not behind backs, but in the open. Women in hot pursuit of their dreams; without a paralytic need for coddling, or cutting down of other women in pursuit of their own.
Women redefining beauty, women in action, women moving forward.
Answers to 2 SG related FAQ
#1. “Should I join SuicideGirls“. SG is not the same site today that it was when I joined in 2002. Back when we walked to school uphill both ways and LIKED IT, all because the other tramps we were walking with were so fucking cool. And my experience with SG was supercalafragalistic; it was what it was because I made it that way, because the moon was in the 5th house. My experience is MY experience, not yours. SO. I have answered this question countless times like this:
* *Do you want to make a living from taking off your clothes? If yes, do hardcore porn. Plenty of internet and film companies exist that take alt models. Learn to strip. Keep your head on straight and have fun.
* *Do you want to possibly make a little extra cash, and be known, forever more, as one of the legions? If yes, join SG. Community remains there, and it may be just what you are looking for. Keep your head on straight and have fun.
#2. “Do you regret doing SuicideGirls“. No. Because, duh. It was a blast. I made a living for myself through SG and because of SG. I took moderate to mediocre pictures of myself, posted them on the internet and magical opportunities abounded. It was really, truly, pretty damn terrific.
Best of all, those other girls I walked to school with, both ways uphill, were some of the most awesome women I could have ever have imagined I would have the honor of calling friends. I have not seen some of them for half a decade now. Some longer. Some, I have never actually met in person.
But those women are still out there, reminding me that not ALL women have two faces.
Those women are out there, reminding me to harden the fuck up. To remain positive. To not have any guilt about who I am or what I’m into.
Couldn’t be more grateful for each and every one of them. No matter what path we picked to follow, no matter how different, we are all where we want to be. And that is a beautiful thing.
In praise of women with confidence. Women uncovered, with their honesty and straight forwardness, truly without disguise. Women with balls and brains enough to conduct themselves, not behind backs, but in the open. Women in hot pursuit of their dreams; without a paralytic need for coddling, or cutting down of other women in pursuit of their own.
Women redefining beauty, women in action, women moving forward.
Who wants groundhog for supper?! Stupid groundhogs. I am so done with winter.
Website: TWWLY DOT COM. No more Twitter, I have joined the masses on Facebook.
Website: TWWLY DOT COM. No more Twitter, I have joined the masses on Facebook.
Last year around Christmas time I blogged about Phoenix Sinclair. A 5 year old girl beaten to death by her parents. Her little body had sustained so many injuries, the coroner stated they were the equivalent of injuries sustained during a severe traffic accident.
Numerous broken bones left untreated. Beaten with a metal rod. Shot with a pellet gun for “the hell of it” (said her older brother). Infected wounds left untreated. Her head was shaved and she went days without clothes. She was subject to starvation. Endured horrible verbal abuse. Stomped on until she just stopped crying. I would imagine that would have been until she passed out. Choked into unconsciousness while her mother looked on, laughing at their “game of chicken” (chicken because she would twitch on the floor in her blackout). Made to eat her own vomit. Forced to live in a blanket in the garbage filled basement, which had no heat. It was on that cold floor that she died, naked.
They wrapped her in plastic and left her in a shallow grave when she finally succumbed.
And then they applied to receive child welfare in her name.
Samantha Kemtach and Karl McKay were sentenced to life in prison.
* * *
7 year old Randal Dooley was also killed by his own parents.
“Randal’s 3-foot, 10-inch body was covered with “hundreds” of bruises, cuts and welts. Only his scalp, the palms of his hands and soles of his feet were spared from the vicious beatings.
He had pneumonia. He was as emaciated as those poor children you see on World Vision appeals, weighing just 41 pounds. When he vomited from his beatings at the hands of his stepmother, he was forced to eat it. A missing tooth was found in his stomach. His ribs and elbow had been broken, his liver lacerated, a vertebra fractured. He suffered four separate injuries to his brain, the last of which ultimately killed him Sept. 25 on the second floor of the Dooley’s McCowan Rd. townhouse.
A pathologist would testify that it appeared Randal had been stomped on or punch-kicked, spanked, whipped and roughly shaken. “This may be the worst case of child abuse in Canadian penal history,” he said.
Tony and Marcia Dooley were sentenced to 13 and 18 years respectively.
* * *
Both sets of parents are presently appealing. My tax dollars at work. (Both cases are Canadian).
In Phoenix’s case, her parents are claiming they didn’t force her to live naked in the basement, that the five year old girl chose to live down there. Therefore it wasn’t confinement, they deserve a lesser sentence.
Randal’s parents are claiming that the judge created bias with the jury by referring to the child as “poor pitiful Randal.” That the alliteration inflamed the jury. Therefore the jury was tainted by the judge, therefore they deserve a lesser sentence.
I know what I would do if I ever came across these people. I’ll say this: LESS LAW, MORE ORDER.
* * *
Samantha Kemtach, Karl McKay, Tony and Marcia Dooley were peoples neighbours, friends, relations. They were not isolated, they existed in communities. There would have been some indication to those around them that Phoenix and Randal were being abused. These children were tortured by the very people put on this earth to love and protect them. I can hardly bear to imagine it.
The holiday season is upon us. We will all be visiting friends, neighbours, relatives. Please, if you see signs of abuse, DO NOT IGNORE THEM. If you do not feel you can have a conversation with the potential offenders about their actions, please take the time to call your local child and family services. Your information will not be given to the family. Your actions will not cause children to be removed from a home without investigation and substantiated evidence.
While the four people I have named above are unquestionably responsible for their actions, the death of their children was due in some part to the inaction of others.
Speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.
Numerous broken bones left untreated. Beaten with a metal rod. Shot with a pellet gun for “the hell of it” (said her older brother). Infected wounds left untreated. Her head was shaved and she went days without clothes. She was subject to starvation. Endured horrible verbal abuse. Stomped on until she just stopped crying. I would imagine that would have been until she passed out. Choked into unconsciousness while her mother looked on, laughing at their “game of chicken” (chicken because she would twitch on the floor in her blackout). Made to eat her own vomit. Forced to live in a blanket in the garbage filled basement, which had no heat. It was on that cold floor that she died, naked.
They wrapped her in plastic and left her in a shallow grave when she finally succumbed.
And then they applied to receive child welfare in her name.
Samantha Kemtach and Karl McKay were sentenced to life in prison.
* * *
7 year old Randal Dooley was also killed by his own parents.
“Randal’s 3-foot, 10-inch body was covered with “hundreds” of bruises, cuts and welts. Only his scalp, the palms of his hands and soles of his feet were spared from the vicious beatings.
He had pneumonia. He was as emaciated as those poor children you see on World Vision appeals, weighing just 41 pounds. When he vomited from his beatings at the hands of his stepmother, he was forced to eat it. A missing tooth was found in his stomach. His ribs and elbow had been broken, his liver lacerated, a vertebra fractured. He suffered four separate injuries to his brain, the last of which ultimately killed him Sept. 25 on the second floor of the Dooley’s McCowan Rd. townhouse.
A pathologist would testify that it appeared Randal had been stomped on or punch-kicked, spanked, whipped and roughly shaken. “This may be the worst case of child abuse in Canadian penal history,” he said.
Tony and Marcia Dooley were sentenced to 13 and 18 years respectively.
* * *
Both sets of parents are presently appealing. My tax dollars at work. (Both cases are Canadian).
In Phoenix’s case, her parents are claiming they didn’t force her to live naked in the basement, that the five year old girl chose to live down there. Therefore it wasn’t confinement, they deserve a lesser sentence.
Randal’s parents are claiming that the judge created bias with the jury by referring to the child as “poor pitiful Randal.” That the alliteration inflamed the jury. Therefore the jury was tainted by the judge, therefore they deserve a lesser sentence.
I know what I would do if I ever came across these people. I’ll say this: LESS LAW, MORE ORDER.
* * *
Samantha Kemtach, Karl McKay, Tony and Marcia Dooley were peoples neighbours, friends, relations. They were not isolated, they existed in communities. There would have been some indication to those around them that Phoenix and Randal were being abused. These children were tortured by the very people put on this earth to love and protect them. I can hardly bear to imagine it.
The holiday season is upon us. We will all be visiting friends, neighbours, relatives. Please, if you see signs of abuse, DO NOT IGNORE THEM. If you do not feel you can have a conversation with the potential offenders about their actions, please take the time to call your local child and family services. Your information will not be given to the family. Your actions will not cause children to be removed from a home without investigation and substantiated evidence.
While the four people I have named above are unquestionably responsible for their actions, the death of their children was due in some part to the inaction of others.
Speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.
Popping in to announce I have now joined the Twitter ranks.
Twitter Twwly
Twwly Dot Com
Hope you're all well! Life is awesome here.
Bye bye.
Twitter Twwly
Twwly Dot Com
Hope you're all well! Life is awesome here.
Bye bye.
