A Monster in Our Midst***WARNING*** The following post is seething with venom and may disturb certain assholes
Andrea Yates is free on bond, and in the unlikely event that we should cross paths, I wouldn’t hesitate to spit in her hideous face. I would gladly spend the night in jail and pay a hefty fine for the pleasure of it all.
To those of you who feel even one iota of sympathy for this plague-carrying rodent from every child’s worst nightmare (oh, dear, poor sick woman who was strapped down with five kids, and oh, my, that horrible, horrible husband of hers, and oh, Jesus Lord, it was the depression that did it, the DEPRESSION, I say!) can kiss my ever-loving ass. You all can blame whomever you wish, her doctors, her husband, their delusional “faith,” her postpartum depression, but the fact remains that nobody but Andrea Yates chased those terrified children around their home, held those children under water as they struggled and pleaded for their mommy to stop. It is estimated that the murders took one very long hour.
She damn well knew right from wrong, as testimony shows, and I’m chilled to my very soul that anyone would rally to this whore’s defense, offer up any excuse for the atrocities that happened on June 20, 2001. Fuck you and fuck Andrea Yates all the way to the black wrought iron gates of Hell.
This is a murderer, a cold-hearted, simpering, selfish, lying pig who committed quintuple homicide, and she spent four years lazing about on her fat ass, being catered to, enjoying her “respite,” free from the burden of pretending to be a loving, caring mother. Oh, it must have weighed heavy on her shrunken heart, that pretense. It must have been so difficult to smile even as her resentment grew every time she gave her children showy, vapid hugs. That's what it all boils down to: resentment. She resented her controlling husband, resented her responsibilities, resented not being able to take bubble baths and watch soap operas at her leisure, resented, resented, resented.
She resented losing her former self.
Andrea Yates wanted the resentment to end, she wanted to do away with the demands, the responsibilities, the perceived drudgery of her life, and she did so, but it wasn't really her, see, because the devil made her do it. Goodness, Andrea, a tad cliché, wouldn't you say?
And now she has been released due to psychiatrist Park Dietz's fabricated bit of testimony (way to go, freak), and I am so, so disgusted, and I can hardly think straight, and I am sad, and I think about those five beautiful angels lying in their graves, and I shudder and I feel ill… And I just wish Andrea Yates would die. Kill yourself, you miserable, cowardly bitch, and do the whole world a favor.
To the Yates sympathizers, I say, look at what she destroyed, think about what those darling babies endured at the hands of their own mother.