A Falling Through

This makes me sad.

The state of Georgia executed a man tonight who most likely was innocent of the crime he was convicted, yet the biggest topic on my Facebook news feed is the new layout.  In my opinion Troy Davis outweighs Facebook's new layout any day.

There was so much outrage on the social network when Casey Anthony was acquitted of murdering her two year old daughter based solely on reasonable doubt, yet we all knew she was guilty.  Anyone familiar with the basics of Davis' case knows that his entire case was riddled with reasonable doubt, much like Anthony's--no murder weapon was ever found, seven of the nine witnesses who testified against Davis recanted or changed parts or all of their testimony and claimed that they were coerced under duress, it is believed that another one of the witnesses was the actual murderer...and yet, Davis was found guilty of murder, and ultimately executed at 10:53 pm.  Where is the outrage now?  Where is the anger over the judicial system now?

It appears that any anger on my Facebook news feed is directed at the new layout, which seems to have pissed off plenty of people, excluding yours truly.  I don't have any issues with it.  I can still do what I go on to the site to do, and if I couldn't, well...I'd figure it out, like the last time Mark Zuckerberg changed things up.  Change happens.  Updates occur.  Big deal. You adapt and move on...because you know in a few months or a year, Facebook will change things up again.

But Troy Davis will never take another breath.  Troy Davis will never get to prove his innocence.  Troy Davis may have been wrongly executed while the real killer, believed to be Sylvester "Redd" Coles, spends the rest of his life a free man because the state of Georgia will never investigate that trail and openly admit that they may have killed the wrong person.  And the MacPhail family may never really know who killed Mark MacPhail that night at Burger King in 1989.  We may never know if Troy Davis was the one who pulled the trigger.

And that, to me at least, is more frustrating than the way my news feed shows up when I log in on Facebook.

Closing Time

Hey darlings, it's time for Thirsty Thursday over at For The Love Of Blogs, so I will share a delicious drink recipe with y'all...Enjoy!!!



A Piece of Ass (taken from drinksmixer.com)

1 shot almond amaretto liqueur
1 shot Southern Comfort peach liqueur
Sweet and sour mix

Pour liqueurs over ice in a glass.  Fill with sweet and sour mix and serve.


I'd like to thank all of you that stopped by from FTLOB!  Hugs and kisses to you lovelies, and please feel free to check out my other posts.  If you like, comment, and if you lurrrrve, please follow!  Also feel free to "like" my Facebook page...And if you show me love, I'll gladly return the favor.

Comfort Eagle

Today was a good day. I slept in, stayed in my pajamas until 2:40, and had the house to myself until my dad got home from work. You can't really beat that on a good day off.

So, as I mentioned earlier, I gave up procrasinating for Lent. It's kind of hard. I am a natural born procrastinator--putting stuff off isn't just something I do, it's a way of life. I'm attempting to read some stuff for school in a bit, which is a small step, like wading into the shallow end of the pool when you don't know how to swim (which I don't, coincidentally). The hardest part is trying to not think about procrastinating. I think about it constantly. Like, I'll be sitting here at the computer all like "I am going to read chapter 6 in American Government and then study." My brain busts in with a "FAAAAACEBOOOOOK!!!!" And I give in and cook some pie in Cafe World.

Well, no more. I am taking a stand. No longer will my brain call all the shots. Nay. Well...actually my brain has to call all the shots, but you know what I mean. I am silencing the slacker frat boy part of my brain, the part that yells out stuff like "CHEEEESEBURRRRGER" when I'm on a diet or "WIKIPEDIAAAAA" when I should really be doing something more constructive.

Viva la revolution.

Wish me luck. Forty days is a long time.