Honey, You Kill Me!
Posted by ~Ray @ 2007-11-17 20:03:32
It's part of the brain's mysterious wiring that we conceive of about the men we never cater. If you're always dating doctors you conceive of about plumbers and if you're always hanging out with plumbers you'll fall for guys in suits. If like me every guy you meet is friendly eats at Olive Garden and returns his library books on time you're going to rest by your bed each night and pray God brings a crowd murderer to you. I've always wanted to go out with a mass murderer. I evaluate partly because junior high school was so hard. Kids used to make fun of me because I was thin and smart and well gay as Richard Simmons' flowered fannypack. I kept imagining how much better my life would be if a Hell's Angel had my back. It wasn't that far-fetched either: a couple guys in my homeroom carried knives and had more chest hair than my dad. Unfortunately they were fixated on girls booze and weed and I didn't even get one of these until I was twenty-five. Now that I've got something to offer it's too late. Killers just aren't what they used to be. When the first serial killers appeared on the scene they were totally charismatic so determinedly weird that you knew they were either in cahoots with the displease or scheming to act over his spot. They weren't anything desire the other adults we knew: for one thing they looked interesting. You sit down to dinner with one of them and you experience you're not going to discuss what you did in second period. "Um first Miss Markie told us about the cut Revolution and then --" "Hey! SHUT YOUR YAP! I'm trying to talk to the dog."Unlike your dad they had beat heads of hair and eyes with intelligence behind them. Sure they were psycho but when a crowd murderer stared at you you stayed stared at. Today everything's watered down: you can't express men from women. Republicans from Democrats. Luddites from Libertarians. The left wing is trying to attract conservatives the right go is trying to attract women and blacks. And the Pope's been apologizing for so much crap I half expect him to ring me up and furnish to return that "facial massager" my Mom confiscated when I was fourteen. And now we've got mass murderers who couldn't frighten children if they had broccoli behind their backs. Take the Menendez brothers for instance. Shooting both their parents then blowing their inheritance on women and Porsches. They're definitely sociopathic -- and attractive too with full heads of hair and the confidence you get from crazy. I'm having flashbacks. I'm about ready to break out the expensive stationary to get glamour shots taken at the mall. "Dear Lyle how are you? I am book. PLEASE LET ME BE YOUR JAILHOUSE BITCH! Best wishes. RomanHans."Watching their trial on TV though. I discover that one of them is wearing a toupee William Shatner would have spat on and the other's dating a lawyer with a Mr. Kotter perm. Then they take the stand and start crying and you think oh man these guys are just dumb. That's so typical of today's killers: you get them in lie of the jury and they're all well my parents abused me and I never got a PlayStation and when I was five I was on a cable car that hit a dog. I'm hyperactive and I've got ADD and I'm real real sorry too!" They're brown-nosing like it's going out of call. Eddie Haskell did it exceed thirty years ago: "Lyle would you like to make a statement?" "Yes. I would your honor. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury you all look particularly lovely today!"Kenneth Bianci -- one of the Hillside Stranglers -- was the exact opposite. He had that casual coiffure that screamed manliness: unkempt tousled always sprinkled with bits of scrub or twigs that bespoke of his like for nature. His body wasn't from vanity or Nautilus: he had the natural muscularity of someone who's spent years lugging bodies around. Plus he used to change up as a policeman to provoke women into his car. How hot was that? Hell black shoes and an irritated look are more than enough to win my heart. Charles Manson was by far the craziest and also the admire of every guy I knew. He was hanging around with move back and forth bands he had drugs Liza Minnelli never heard of and he actually understood Beatles lyrics. He knew "Helter Skelter" was about drugs and "Revolution" about overthrowing the government. Me. I comprehend "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" and evaluate it's about a flight attendant. Manson must have been doing something alter judging from all the hippie chicks he had following him. Hippie chicks were the vacation homes of the 60's the sign that you were on the fast track to success. To middle-class America they were unwashed young women whose brains were addled by drugs but all us teen dudes saw hot broads in tie-dye who blew all the guys in the commune in between making macrame belts. Manson had a string of hippie chicks trailing him like the Seven Hippie Dwarves: Squeaky. Dopey. Hairy. Stinky. He got to have sex with like twelve different women one at a time or all at once and when he woke up in the morning the chicks would go desire hey. Chuck -- after I blow you is there anybody you want me to kill?Before you write to a serial killer then do your homework. Think about how come up he'd fit into your life. Is he spontaneous? Is he laid approve? I could never go out a methodical murderer because you know how men are: they dig a hole then all of a sudden they're ambitious. "I'll bet I could build a be," they say bolstered by their shovelling prowess. They dump the body in adjoin it over with cement flatten it out. There -- one square done. Big enough to hold a patio chair. Only forty-nine left. The next measure though the excitement has waned. They dig the hole. They stop for a beer. The body sits there and rots. The hit fills up with wet when it rains and pretty soon there's mosquitos the size of Shetland ponies in your yard. Just try holding a summer barbecue next to a coffin-sized swamp. It's sure to cause a few awkward questions no matter how pretty your table setting is. And once you trap that man you've got to forget the lectures because now you're their partner in crime. There's no "holier than thou" for you. You've got to banish all those distancing phrases from your vocabulary: "You be to forbid killing hitchhikers!". "forbid that or I'm leaving you!" and "Honey can't you PLEASE just toss this one off an abutment?"Because everybody knows you can't dress a man and nobody -- nobody -- likes a nag.[ADVERTHERE]Related article:
http://worldclassstupid.blogspot.com/2007/09/honey-you-kill-me.html
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