I'm sure, by now, you've all read the tragic Megan Meier story. Its gross drama has entered my periphery like fifteen goddamn times already. For those of you spending your time 'working' or 'meditating' (and if that's true, I don't know HOW THE HELL you found this blog), the brief synopsis is this: Via MySpace, Josh began romantically wooing thirteen year old Megan-- until he started being a dick and in an irrationally depressive teenage response, Megan hung herself. It came out later that Josh didn't actually exist and was a persona created by a neighborhood MOM. Evidently, her daughter was friends with Megan and after growing apart/putting the kibosh on the contact (as normal teenage girls are want to do), the bitchface of a cunt MOM decided to reek psychological hell on the estranged friend (who was a CHILD).
Don't these people have jobs/hobbies/fucking perspective/compassion? I am guessing this MOM also prides herself on being able to stuff her ass into her daughter's size four Old Navy Low-rise Flares. I'm sure you can find her tanning, french manicuring and proudly wearing a shirt announcing she's a "MILF".
The most badass portion of the NYTimes Article? The Meier's found out about the hoax and destroyed the asshole's Foosball table, then put the pieces in the asshole's driveway. It hardly quelled the pain of losing their daughter, but it produced a much needed physical outlet to release some aggression, I'm sure --especially feeling powerless in the light of the body of laws which allow this kind of sick behavior to be deemed societally rude, but not illegal.
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