By now you’ve heard that Rae Carruth, quite possibly the most despicable human being on the planet, was released from prison after serving 19 years for conspiring to murder his 8-month pregnant girlfriend. I’m not sure how someone like that ever gets out of prison, but that’s not why I’m here. I’ll let Whitty break that down in his upcoming soccer blogs.
My biggest gripe is the idiots that are celebrating his release by trying to buy his jersey. I understood the Michael Vick Halloween costumes where they’d have their dog with them. I didn’t think it was funny, but I saw why a 19-year-old college sophomore might. I was busy wearing a very tight Spider-Man costume and a Woopie Cushion costume that I turned inside out and wrote “DOUCHE BAG” on it. Much much better than wearing a Michael Vick jersey with my dog by my side, right? I like to think a lot of people were walking around Halloween parties in the mid-90’s wearing poor-fitting leather gloves. It’s too bad we didn’t have cameras back then to document such parties, but hopefully researches will find a stone tablet with that image chiseled into it someday.
Can we take a second to appreciate how awesome the officer on the right is? When he’s not escorting former NFL running backs through the courtroom I bet he’s busy yelling at his kids for turning up the thermostat and asking his wife “how on God’s green earth someone can spend $13 at Smoothie King”.
The NFL shut down the custom jersey orders pretty quick, so it’s very unlikely any got out there into circulation.
This reminds me of the time a website screwed up the price of their golf clubs. I almost got a $1,700 set of irons for in the neighborhood of $200. They figured out the glitch of the online coupon and the clubs never came. I still suck at golf and I 100% blame it on them. I’m sure the NFL had some of the same disclaimers a certain unnamed golf website had, stating they had the right to refuse or cancel the sale for a long list of reasons.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Wisconsin that I can’t pronounce, poor Brendan Dassey can’t even watch WrestleMania. All he wanted to do when he was coerced into a confession (the federal courts agreed, until they didn’t) was watch WrestleMania 22. John Cena retained. A McMahon was forced into a story line to keep their face in the spotlight and a 58-year-old Undertaker was still 12 years away from his weird “will he or won’t he show up?” squash match with John Cena. Since then, Brendan hasn’t been a free man and whether you think the Avery family had anything to do with the murders, the boy deserves his wrasslin’. I think most people agree that Brendan likely had absolutely zero involvement and at the very most was an innocent bystander not knowing what was going on or couldn’t comprehend what was taking place. I’m still not sure about Steven Avery, but like I said, that’s not what this blog is about. Check out Whitty’s soccer blog for his scorching hot take on the trial tomorrow.
It’s a wild world we’re living in. It’s hard to believe murderers are being released from prison while fans attempt to snatch up their jersey, but here we are. I bet you thought I was talking about Ray Lewis this time, but I’m still talking about Rae Carruth.
And just think. If Brendan’s Toby Flenderson lookalike of a defense attorney would’ve focused on getting his confession thrown out rather than hamming it up for the camera, a mid-20’s Dassey could be right there in the front row screaming “WHAT?!?!” every time Stephanie McMahon takes the mic.
P.S.- I still want my golf clubs, www.******************.com
You have one day
One day for what?
They always give an ultimatum.