Fiddler on the Roofie

I’ve been out of the loop for a bit, but let me see if I understand this right.  Lyndsey Dawn Fiddler is the drug-addled-slut-bubble mother of a ten-day old, who was found dead in the washing machine.  Found dead after she left the room to put her infant to sleep.

And the charge is child neglect? Not manslaughter, but child neglect.

There are four types of child neglect:  Physical, Educational, Emotional and Medical.  Death is not listed as child neglect.

Is this charge due to a technicality since these needs can no longer be met?  It isn’t easy to send the deceased to school, understand their emotions, put them on your medical insurance or give them exercise … unless your name’s Bernie.

District Attorney Rick Esser said he charged Fiddler with child neglect because of the harsher sentence.  Second-degree manslaughter carries up to four-years in prison while child neglect can be a life sentence.

While the media, law enforcement and DHS work out the details of this horrific crime, I’ll focus on my personal conflict with this story … who the hell slept with her?

She has two other kids.  Someone tapped that, repeatedly.

Were the fathers born without a head?  Even a blind person can spot a meth-face.  She’s a 26-year-old trapped in the body of a dying Luby’s customer.

Her face looks as though ten pounds of jowls dangled off her jaw and were secured behind her head with a staple gun.  Almost like a circumcision gone horribly wrong.

Fiddler’s half human and half Shar-Pei.

Plus, have there been no reports of men’s penises falling off at the health clinic?  She tested positive for methamphetamine, amphetamines, benzodiazepine and opiates.  That chemical concoction, mixed with whatever else is crawling through her cave walls, is not a hospitable environment for foreign flesh.

Why was she not spayed?  No one listens to Bob Barker.

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