Jennifer Wilbanks, a.k.a. The Georgia Bogeywoman
I am beside myself with disgust for this “woman.” I use quotes because, really, this loathsome creature of the female persuasion is not, in my eyes, a true woman; she is a hideous rectum, a simpering limp noodle, a selfish, self-centered, atypical example of womanhood. She is an embarrassment not only to herself, but to her family and friends, not to mention her poor fiancé who was basically ditched at the altar in front of the entire world. She is a quiet monster, one who hid her fangs and claws beneath a nurse's uniform, a living, breathing bogeywoman who produced fear in the collective soul of the concerned public, well-wishers like myself who worried and grieved over the possible loss of such a vibrant, seemingly lovely individual, who cursed the evils of this oftentimes troubling, unfair world. She monopolized the efforts of Duluth’s finest, whose time would’ve best been spent on finding real abductees, missing children, lost old folks…
The anguish she caused her loved ones is unimaginable.
Fuck you, Wilbanks. May you one day find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to a bogeyman of your very own (after you’ve had your tubes tied, of course -- wouldn’t want innocent children brought into your sick world, now would we?) who finds great pleasure in slapping you up after he’s indulged in a case of Miller. I hope he calls you names like Lantern Jaw and Chicken-Boned Bitch. I hope he knocks you around your dirty little kitchenette, puts you through the wall of your stinking mobile home. You need to understand what true pain and suffering is all about, sister. Here’s to a dark future.
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