Vladimir V. Putin, the president of Russia, ordered the establishment of a state commission to investigate the crash. The Russian government also announced it was dispatching a special plane from its emergency services to take a team of investigators and rescuers to the scene. Mr. Putin also declared Sunday a day of mourning for the victims.
It was about a year and a half ago that I posted this piece called “Who’s killing all the great Hispanic girls of Los Angeles?”
It detailed the similarities of two unsolved murders involving young Hispanic girls in the Northeast neighborhoods of Los Angeles. Hispanic girls are common here, so the fact they are Hispanic sounds more like a geographic limitation than an ethnic one.
In fact, there is no official connection between the death of the young women; all conjecture was my own. Although, there is a tenuous “official” connection.
The bodies of Michelle Lozano, 17, and Bree’Anna Guzman, 22, were discovered in Northeast Los Angeles a few years ago.
The suspicion is difficult to avoid.
Both girls were similar in appearance, age, and their bodies were found near the Golden State Freeway.
A serial killer is defined by killings, after all, and two victims with similar death backgrounds certainly points toward a connection, but police agencies are renowned for avoiding the “serial killer” nomenclature unless the evidence is unmistakable and can be spotted by outside, neutral parties. In this case, police are not coughing up anything related to such a possibility, but one must wonder.
Los Angeles’ dark hills and dark shadows lend themselves to the eerie invasion by serial killers. The city’s topographical anonymity which co-exists with a massive population living on “the other side of the ridge” begs for the faceless nature of the serial killer. The suspicious and random deaths of Guzman and Lozano begged for an explanation. Begged. And I went one step further.
I postulated that perhaps, Lorenza Arellano, 36, whose body was found floating in a Boyle Heights lake in March, 2014, was a possible victim of the same killer.
Arellano certainly did not fit the age profile of the two girls, but she did fit all the others: Hispanic, long hair, found a stone throw’s distance from the Golden State Freeway in Boyle Heights. No known motive.
But perhaps, the most intriguing connection to all three deaths, as stated in a postscript in my post:
…interesting that Lozano and Guzman were killed/found around the 25-27 of each month, as was Arellano.
OK, so that was my case.
I laid out an argument that perhaps a serial killer was responsible for these three unsolved murders. As I’ve pointed out, serial killers are defined by…murder. Right? I wrote this in 2014 about a murder that year, and a couple from 3 years previous. Hardly enough data to hang your serial killer hat on.
So guess what just hit the local Los Angeles news today?
Long hair, in a secluded hillside area, about 3 miles from the Golden State Freeway, but less than a mile from the Pasadena Freeway, which connects to the Golden State Freeway about 2 miles downstream.
The creepy, pathological part of this discovery is that they were found together. Were they killed in unison? Did they know each other?
From the Los Angeles Times:
A woman walking her dog discovered the bodies Wednesday afternoon, and a day later the circumstances surrounding the deaths remained mostly a mystery. Regulars were left shocked and frightened to go to a park they once turned to for serenity.
It was unclear how long the bodies had been at the park before they were discovered.
[LAPD Cmdr. Andrew] Smith said that the two had suffered blunt-force trauma, but the LAPD was waiting for coroner’s officials to determine the cause of death. Detectives were trying to determine where they were killed, Smith said, but believe their bodies were in the park for a “short period of time.”
The bodies were found fully clothed near a trail, about 300 yards from the street, and there did not appear to be any signs of sexual assault, officials said.
The area is popular with gang members, who are known to fire their guns there from time to time, Bermudez said.
“These things happen, even in the best of neighborhoods,” Bermudez said.
Lopez, the frequent visitor, said this week’s incident has only deepened her worry about her safety at the park. She and other women have discussed how unsafe they feel now.
A 53-year-old woman, who declined to give her name because she feared for her safety, said she and a group of friends were working out at the park about 11 a.m. Wednesday when they came across two young women who appearded to be in their 20s on a trail.
She didn’t know whether they were the same two whose bodies were later found. As she and her friends continued, they passed a man who was wearing a cap and carrying a backpack. The man quickly turned his cap forward and looked away from them as he passed. Then he blasted rock music.
She said she was startled by the music and told her friends, “Hurry up, let’s walk faster.”
There is so much we still can’t connect in these deaths and the LAPD isn’t biting.
The parallels are striking enough to warrant attention. Even the commenters on the Eastsider are speaking of it openly.
And the red herring, the flasher who has been assaulting women in the same park.
Perhaps it’s an old-fashioned notion, but flashers don’t frighten me. They are usually deranged, asocialized individuals whose final gesture of certitude is pulling out their dick; they are not murderers. Murderers have transcended a new level of attention-seeking, so anyone who has murdered derives no pleasure from pointing his penis at strange women.
But my ultimate fallback in this case, as always, are the dates of discovery.
The bodies of Calzada and Gallegos were found on Wednesday morning. We can infer that the bodies were dumped overnight…meaning, the 27th or 28th.
The date period remains the same. The end of the month strikes, yet again. In fact, on my last post, I thought of penning this killer “The End of the Month Killer” but I refrained since we didn’t have enough corpses.
I had a funny blog self-awareness experience earlier when I stumbled upon a story in Britain’s own Daily Mail concerning women who, tired of their asymmetrical and tired old-looking cunts, are increasingly resorting to plastic surgery in hope of paying to have the best damn-looking vagina in town (or at least in yoga pants and bikinis).
A desire to look good in yoga pants and swim wear is fuelling a huge rise in the number of women opting to have ‘designer vagina’ surgery, plastic surgeons have revealed.
From girls as young as 16, to women in their 70s, more women than ever are choosing to undergo cosmetic surgery to alter the appearance of their genitals.
The American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery (ASAPS) has recorded a significant increase in the number of tissue removal and re-structuring operations – a staggering 49 per cent rise in one year, from 2013 to 2014.
Labiaplasty is an operation performed on the labia, or ‘lips’ surrounding the vagina.
Surgery can be performed on the labia major – the outer, larger vaginal lips – or the labia minor – the smaller, internal vaginal lips.
The procedure can change the size or shape of a woman’s labia.
Typically the surgery is performed to make the labia smaller, or to correct asymmetry.
Meanwhile, vaginoplasty is a procedure that aims to ‘tighten up’ a vagina that has become slack, often the result of childbirth or ageing.
Dr Jennifer Walden, an aesthetic plastic surgeon and spokeswoman for the ASAPS, based in Austin, Texas, said labiaplasty is ‘one of the most popular cosmetic procedures in women’.
I have a suspicion that most vaginal augmentation is not necessarily done for the benefit of men. I doubt most straight men are concerned with a vagina’s bare, or disguised appearance through scant cloth. Men don’t care about that; they care how the same vagina feels and how it smells. Women know this. With the exception of vaginal tightening, I would theorize that most vaginal plastic surgery to improve the aesthetics of said organ are for the benefit of other women and the disconnected eyes of the public, in general. Like a fashionable dress or scarf.
And as I read this article, it struck me: women are egotistical as hell.
They are such vain creatures.
And as a result, women are more self-conscious of their genital area when wearing swim wear, tight jeans and yoga pants.
‘There has been a rise in women going bare, down there, having Brazilian waxes and laser hair removal,’ she told Daily Mail Online.
‘It has become fashionable and as a result women have, all of a sudden, started to see things they may not have taken notice of before.’
I set out to write a short post about women’s bottomless pit of vanity, as exemplified by vaginal surgery which seeks to make the vagina more presentable through certain snug clothing.
“Only women,” I shook my head.
But I was struck by a realization: everyone is egotistical. Men are egotistical as well, but it is expressed differently. Women’s egotism is expressed by the ceaseless improvements of appearance and fertility presentation. This mimics the evolutionary impetus of the female’s primary tool of procreation: her child-rearing presentation. The onus is on women to present a visually striking and attractive sexual pose.
The parallel evolutionary impetus on men is for them to display egregious levels of provisional and protective skills. Possessions, strength, power; thus, men’s egotism is likewise clustered around the mating display of wealth, confidence, earning power and status.
It’s as if human egotism is structured around the ostentatious display of evolutionary markers which implies egotism is clustered around the superficial and the hedonistic. A life devoted to intellectual pursuits or religious calling affords no evolutionary payoffs, hence, are not commonly associated with matters of egotism.
A snug vagina and a fast car…all within our reach!
Wow, I posted this last week and now it seems the repercussions are starting to blow back in the faces of community “leaders” from South L.A.
A coalition of South Los Angeles religious and civil rights leaders gathered Monday to publicly denounce alleged threats made to a pastor by a group claiming to be affiliated with “Black Lives Matter.”
Reverend Kelvin Sauls of Holman United Methodist Church in South L.A. along with the National Action Network and other groups are demanding an apology from Black Lives Matter after the group disrupted an appearance by Mayor Eric Garcetti last week and planned to protest a visit by the mayor to Sunday services.
Personally, I don’t see why it’s an unspoken truth among many Angelenos.
They seem to be in on this little secret but me.
Talk to most people and they will tell you that Range Rover drivers are some of the biggest douchebags. Me…I’ve never had an unpleasant experience with a Range Rover driver. Granted, such drivers tend to represent new money, ballin’ sorta young kids, not exactly the epitomes of class or tradition, but still, they have never bothered me much. In fact, this came up once when I was telling an acquaintance that I happen to like how Range Rovers look. Also, for their size and class, I like that they actually haul ass.
I don’t know about you, but I like Range Rovers. I dislike SUV’s, in general, but if you put a gun to my head and made me plunk down a few thousand for an over-sized vehicle sitting high off the ground with space for many, plus cargo, I would have to go with the Range Rover.
But according to most people, to do so would instantly relegate you to the douche class of automobile owners here in Los Angeles.
One person I knew who hated Range Rover drivers owed her dislike entirely to growing up in Glendale and witnessing, first hand, the circus act that is Armenian drivers; a rough and tumble, aggressive and obnoxious road demographic if ever there was one. Perhaps many of them tend to drive Range Rovers in Glendale, but I’ve never noticed that pattern elsewhere.
In fact, I can think of many other car brands which seem to attract distasteful owners who are the evil co-owners of our public byways. Range Rovers? Nah, whatever.
Until Sunday. My first unpleasant Range Rover driver experience.
Brake checked for no good reason, flipped off, waved off, a misconstrued mess of grievances which I simply lost interest in quite early on in our unpleasant encounter.
Not they, apparently.
I’m sorry…the piracy police saw to it that a song playing on my car radio during this dash cam footage violated corporatist laws of the U.S. The Eagles and Take It To The Limit have been scrubbed by Youtube’s ass-kissing algorithm. NOTE: The “scrubbed” video will be up soon minus my car radio.
Since I have no rear-facing dash cam mounted (though that is an intriguing option, down the road), I’ll explain what precipitated this incident.
As I was rounding the transition road, the lane behind me was empty for a good span of distance. I am the type of driver who checks his rear view mirror often. Now just as I drove under the bridge, I happened to glance in the mirror again and noted that, out of nowhere, this wild Range Rover burst into view and was bearing down on me quickly. He was obviously taking the transition in excess of 60 mph; good for him. I was driving 40 or 45 mph, tops. As I switched lanes, to the left (signalling, as you can tell by the audible blinker click on my car), he came up very close behind me, in a blatant tailgating pose. Driving a stick, I eased up on the gas since traffic was building ahead of me and to the right. It’s called defensive driving for those of us who care of such foolishness. Asshole boy switched lanes again to the left and he passed me. I did not turn my head, but I raised my left hand (the window was up) and simply gave a big middle finger. I had no idea whether they were even looking, but apparently, they were, for as they passed me you can see that they flicked me their version of the finger through their sun-roof. Whatever. I was over it at this point. I switched lanes again to get behind them. I remained at a safe, non-confrontational distance. I guess this wasn’t enough, for the douche now brake checked me for no good reason. I was done provoking for I had vented my frustration with that lame chicken flip earlier. He brake checked so hard I switched lanes to avoid rear ending him, but another car was signalling into the lane, so I switched back behind the Range rover. Once the lane to the right was clear, I moved back over because I no longer wanted to deal with this. Douchebag must have thought I really cared because he/she commenced to wave through the sun roof and then step on the gas like a bat out of hell. I know cars, and there is no way I could keep up with a Range Rover through the top ends of our respective vehicles.
It was Sunday night. I just wanted to get home and rest, not have a pissing contest with this douchebrain.