Damned Flu

Late Tuesday afternoon, feeling a little tired, I stopped at Craigville Beach on the way from the office to mind the grandkids.
By the time I got to their house, I was a trainwreck.
My grandchildren hovered around while my DIL tried to convince me to get my germ-ridden self the heck out of her house. The oldest, bless his good little heart, tried to convince her that they could “take care of Grandma” while she went about her business, then he made me the sweetest card.

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“Intent”: the New Twinkie Defense?

Yet another incomprehensible verdict from a jury wrapped around the new favorite argument of defense lawyers evereywhere: to convict, the State needs to prove intent.
In other words, a motive, a murder weapon, even a confession are no longer sufficient proof of wrongdoing: the State now has to prove that the person who murders really “intended” to do it all along.

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