The name Hannibal Lecter is likely familiar to most people as a fictional character who enjoyed eating people. The name Omaima Aree Nelson is likely not so familiar to people. She is a real person who enjoyed eating … her husband.
Now I have written about pedophiles and necrophiles, murderers and rapists, and I have been disgusted and outraged by them all. Somehow Omaima Nelson has added the yecchhh factor that most of the others somehow lacked.
Californian William E. Nelson met Omaima in 1991 in a bar while playing pool. He must have thought he’d really lucked out. Omaima was an attractive, Egyptian-born former nanny and model and only 24 years old. William himself was 56 and a not-so-svelte 230 pounds.
Don’t you just hate it when, after you go through all the effort to kill your wife and bury her body, your own damn dog digs up the corpse? Michael Adamson knows what that’s like.
And it got worse for Michael Adamson because after the dog dug her up, he proudly brought Michael a souvenir of his adventure — Delphine Adamson’s hand. And don’t you know Michael Adamson had a visitor when this grisly presentation was made.
I can only imagine the conversation between the two men after that.
“Uh, Michael? Uh, what’s that your dog’s carrying in his mouth? … Is that a … a HAND? … Uh, gotta go. Bye.”
Jamie Lynn Orman had a lot to be happy about in October of 2009. She had recently moved out of her apartment and into the home of her new boyfriend John Lawrence. By all accounts the couple were incredibly happy and neighbors were pleased to get to know John’s new girlfriend. In fact, some of the extra appliances that always seem to end up going to storage when two households combine were passed on to neighbors by this generous couple.
Jamie’s three sons, whom she shared joint custody with her ex-husband, were at Jamie’s new home to spend some time with their mother. This was an unexpected stay but Jamie and her ex-husband still had a workable relationship and behaved like decent human beings, which is the way adults are supposed to do when children are involved.
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Melissa Shelver was a normal expectant mom. Things had soured with the father of her unborn baby, but that didn’t dampen her excitement at being pregnant with her first baby. She was young, pretty and surrounded by a supportive family.
Even her deadbeat ex, one inappropriately named David Best, seemed to have warmed to the idea of becoming a father, and had been accompanying Melissa to prenatal visits and taking her shopping for items for their unborn daughter. Melissa was going to name her Jenna- May.
Let me start by saying, I have sympathy for hoarders. I realize they are mentally ill people who need help. My own mother is a borderline hoarder of all kinds of “stuff”, and she constantly works to free her home of the “great finds” she has picked up over the years.
She loves these items, and really has to make an emotion leap to get rid of them, but eventually, after some cajoling, she does. She knows someone else could love them and enjoy them just as much as she does.
Robert William Pickton is, without question, the lowest, vilest form on life in Canada. He deserves to die a torturous death a thousand times over and yet he lives on, unscathed. True, he is incarcerated, but considering the nature of his crimes — the torture and murder of dozens and dozens and dozens of women (49 by his count), he cannot be punished sufficiently within the Canadian justice system.
But Robert William Pickton did not act alone. He did not live and kill in a vacuum. He had help, and inconceivably, unforgivably, outrageously that “help” has yet to face any justice at all. She will never, ever be put on trial for the incalculable harm she allowed to be perpetuated by one of Canada’s worst serial killers.
I would like everyone to meet my grandmother, Beatrice Holecek. Grandmothers are special people you can make so many memories with. My grandmother would bake cookies, pies, cakes and all sorts of goodies to spoil her grandchildren.
I have so many memories of the things we used to do, like going to the playground and feeding the ducks at the pond. I loved to run errands with my grandmother in her 1968 mint condition Chevy Monte Carlo (garaged, of course). This woman had one heck of a lead foot – I swear to God the woman couldn’t cruise a parking going less than 40 mph.
This is Ashley Kirilow of Burlington, Ontario, founder of the charity Change for a Cure. Inspired by her ongoing battle with cancer, she started the charity in October 2009 to raise money for the University of Alberta’s research into a new cancer fighting drug.
Ashley Kirilow said that beginning on April 29, 2010, her 23rd birthday, she would walk from Burlington to Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, to personally deliver the money to the university. Change for a Cure volunteers say they raised $20,000 for the charity, but the proposed walk to Edmonton never occurred and the University of Alberta never received the money.
See, there was a big problem with this whole thing: Ashley Kirilow never had cancer. She made the whole thing up and pocketed the money for herself.