O.J. Simpson’s conflict resolution skills are improving. He’s toned down from fatal stabbings to mere armed robbery and kidnapping. If Bruce Fromong survives his heart attack, everyone may live to tell this latest sordid tail…uh…tale.
The other good news is that virtually everyone involved – perps and victims – are low-lifes who will say anything to stay out of jail. It’s like that “If a tree falls in the woods and nobody’s around to hear it” riddle. If criminals rob criminals, has any crime really been committed?
That’s apparently the crux of O.J.’s defense.
My attention has turned to O.J.’s girlfriend, Christie Prody, a creepy Nicole wannabe. It’s an ambition only the dumbest blonde could have, since we all know how Nicole turned out.
Giving my kitty curiosity free rein, I dug up that Christie’s boundless stupidity actually cost a cat its life.
During one of her many splits with O.J., Christie took off for a month, leaving her orange and white cat alone in her Miami apartment. After a neighbor complained of a foul odor, firefighters broke in and found the cat’s badly decomposed corpse lying in a doorway. They could only assume it starved.
O.J., who owned two dogs at the time (no surprise there – cats are too smart for him), claimed he hadn’t seen Christie in months and didn’t even know she had a cat. He also resented being treated by the police in the matter like something the cat dragged in.
So much for sympathy for the poor, innocent cat, who ultimately paid the price for being remotely associated with O.J.
Christie and O.J. seem to be a match of heartless killers made in heaven.