I am a pretty tough cookie. Not much makes me cry anymore, as I've become "used" to what horror people can visit on their victims. Or maybe not "used" to, but accustomed to it. That's sort of what I mean. I've got a hard shell, I suppose.
This, however, is making me sick, upset, and oh-so-very angry. And I'm not sure if I'd rather someone take a chainsaw to the Bakers, or to have them sit on Death Row, knowing their death is coming, and they will spend eternity in hell. All I know is that reading this thread has made me pour my first drink in about 3 months (not that it's a problem, but...you know what I mean?)
Best-
Herding Cats