On Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010, twenty-one-year-old Adam Theall of Rome, New York threw a temper tantrum. He grabbed his three-month-old baby son, Eithen Zethrey Theall, and a shotgun and stormed outside into his mother’s back yard, warning her that if the cops showed up he would kill the baby.

This kind of behavior was nothing new for Adam Theall. A serial abuser of both women and children, his arrest record over the past 5 years has “violent psychopath” written all over it. If you just take a look at this list of arrests convictions for the years 2005 through 2010 and you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.

* In 2005, he was charged with violating a Family Court order and for disorderly conduct.

Jobs are hard to come by and good jobs are even rarer. No matter what economic times we live in, a steady job is getting to be like an one of those stories your Grandpa used to tell you when you were a kid.

And having a job you love? Fantasy land.

But still, work can be a great stabilizing factor for you if your personal life is taking a hit. It gives you a place to zone out for hours at a time by focusing on the task at hand rather than any possible upset in your world.

When they say, “It’s a dog’s life,” they mean it’s a downright miserable existence. They, apparently, don’t know my dogs. I would sign up for their pampered lifestyle in a nanosecond. Free meals, comfy bed, lots of time to play, plenty of treats, oodles of love, and absolutely no worries. And in return my spoiled pooches give me unconditional love, acceptance and loyalty.

That’s what dogs do. And they don’t judge. I could rob a bank, cheat on my spouse, hijack a bus filled with kindergartners and my dogs would love me. Even Hitler’s dog loved him. And even Allan Dwayne Schoenborn’s dog loved him.

Ah, Mother’s Day. The one day a year when I am allowed to sleep in and I don’t have to cook (yippee!!). Of course sleeping in is a relative term as I am first greeted by a crying baby and whining dogs doing the the pee-pee dance at the foot of the bed. Then my loving husband kisses me and says, “go back to sleep honey. I’ll get the kids up and let the dogs out. I’ll take care of everything”

Oh no.

I lay in bed and listen to the deafening noises emanating from my kitchen as my brood prepares me breakfast in bed. I listen with stomach turning intensity to the crashing, and banging of what must be every single pot, pan, bowl and kitchen utensil that my kitchen can offer and on one memorable occasion, the smoke detector going off. I listen to cries of “you’re a butthead! Yeah! Well you’ve got fart breath.” (those two will never be English scholars)

Omar Thornton murdered eight people on Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010. He did it because he had stealing from his employer, Hartford Distributors of Manchester, Connecticut, for some time and he’d gotten caught on video by a private detective the beer distributors had hired to make sure there was no mistake.

At the meeting with 50-year-old Hartford Distributors vice president and COO Steve Hollander, 50-year-old director of operations Louis J. Felder and the president of Teamsters Local 1035, 51-year-old Bryan Cirigliano, Omar Thornton was confronted with the evidence.

Omar Thornton was offered the choice of resigning and walking away without any consequences for his actions or being terminated by the company for theft. Without a word, he wrote out a one sentence letter of resignation. He then asked if he could get a drink of water.

This is 36-year-old Randel Eudean Richardson.

For the last few hours I’ve been mulling Randel’s story over in my head while drinking an excellent vodka mixed with frozen lemonade concentrate. Just the thing after mowing the lawn.

The lemonade. Not Mr. Richardson.

Randel Eudean Richardson is a married man. He’s married to Kari Richardson. Kari had a statement that she gave to the press yesterday. Would you like to see it?

According to Kari Richardson:

He would never hurt anyone if he was in his right mind. My husband is a good person and a good man. His mental illness has taken him away from me.

This is 30-year-old Saiqa Akhter.

With her husband working as a computer technician, Saiqa Akhter was able to spend her days taking care of her two children – 5-year-old Zain Akhter and 2-year-old Faryaal Akhter.

Like many women who have birthed themselves a couple of babies only wish they could do, Saiqa was living the dream of being a stay-at-home mom, sort of a I am my kids’ mom kind of gal.

Oh, there was some stress. Life in the Akhter household wasn’t all happiness and light.

Zain was showing signs of being autistic, which as anybody who has experience with autism will tell you, can be a hard thing for people to deal with. Despite the fact that there is help available for autistic children, dealing with a special needs child can be a handful.

You know what? I have been there myself so many times…10 bucks in my pocket and terrified about how I’m going to feed myself for the next few days. Desperate for money, you sell anything you can. You even consider breaking the law.

I have, however, never considered breaking into someone else’s property and certainly would rather starve myself than kill another person.

On June 23, 2008 Daniel Sonnex, 23, from Deptford, South London, must have found himself in such an emergency situation, although one may suspect it was more the cravings for drugs that drove him and not the need of necessities. He broke into an apartment in South East London that was rented by 23-year-old Laurent Bonomo, one of two French students who had been awarded biochemistry scholarships in the U.K. “Dano” managed to steal a laptop that morning, while Bonomo was taking a shower.