Monday, November 8, 2010

I hate work!

       I found out today there was a huge error in our research data. I wanted to rip everyone's fucking heads off, take an ice pick to their eyes and pop them out - then I'd squash their eyeballs down on top of the printouts and say "there, now can you see what a fucking bunch of morons you all are". Idiots - it's going to take hours to fix the mistakes made by these morons. Of course, since I lead the research team, I'm the one that has to explain everything, what a waste of time and money it's been gathering data inaccurately. I'd love to walk into the office and show all these idiots what I'm made of. Ha, wouldn't they be surprised, if I came in and cut them up into pieces. Some days, days like this, I'd love to lean over to one of my colleagues while quietly enjoying a low-fat mocha frappucino and say "have you ever thought of injecting bleach into the veins of a living person and watching them writhe in agony? Because I can tell you, from experience, exactly what they go through." They'd look up at me, in shock, half wondering if I was joking, but also knowing that the tone of my voice is telling them I have that sort of badness in me. Ha, what would they do? Run? Scream? Try and maintain their cool, maybe even try and maintain their objectiveness?  Of course, I could never do that, then I'd have to kill them. Never, under any circumstances, kill someone you have a connection to. You'd be questioned, then one slip with your alibi and it would be all over. You would be locked up in a cell for the rest of your life. I would rather die.

      After being at the university today and dealing with everyone else’s fucked up mess I needed to go shopping - half a day was all I could take there at the office. I stopped on my way home and bought some incense and a book about Ed Gein. Tonight I'll take a nice long bath and read my book. People say Ed Gein was the inspiration for Norman Bates in psycho. He was really quite pathetic with his whole mother hang-up and stuff. But here's what gets me about him, if he was so distraught over his mother dying then why did he go out and kill other people's mothers? Didn't he identify with the pain he was causing his victims' families?  Or was he simply overrun with selfishness - that whole, "if I can't have it neither can you" thing?  He just didn't care about other people's suffering. I'll read about him tonight again, mostly because I like to read the opinions of the "experts". Ha, experts! I'm an expert! And Mr. Gein is a good example of why you should stick to my rules - he was caught because he knew his victim. Not only did he know her, he took her from her store - he killed her while she was writing a receipt out to him with his name on it. He left the receipt with his name on it sitting there on the counter! What a lack of self-control. The stupidity is astounding. Aside from the fact that most serial killers are stupid, they also have no idea why they're doing what they're doing. Or the logic is just so fucked up. That would be the main difference with me.  I know why I want to do things, I've sat down and thought it through. I'm fully conscious of my motivation. I think Ed Kemper was almost at my level. He really was quite intelligent, even the FBI thinks so. He had insight into his actions that no other killer of this type seemed to. Ted Bundy tried to act like he understood the motives of serial murder, talking in the third person about his crimes - another little act to bring attention to himself. He really was an egomaniac.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Rules

I’m getting antsy and was thinking about going out and seeing if I could find this guy I’ve had my eye on tonight. Problem is – that would be breaking my second rule. I only have 2 rules but they are critically important. Rule #1 – Never bring someone to my house who I can be connected to. I have all my fun at my house. And you can never, ever make the mistake of picking up someone who you are even slight acquainted with. Anonymity is key to not getting caught. Rule #2 – Never act impulsively. That got me into trouble. I've made that mistake only once, when I acted impulsively. I'm better at what I do now, and after the one that went really wrong I've learned to never let my guard down or act impulsively.
         I still hate it now, how I'm often drawn into remembering, reliving that one mistake. I normally maintain control, ALWAYS -  rushing into things is not my way of doing things. Having everything perfectly planned out is the only way I do things. I don't always go out knowing who will end up here with me, but I always know when someone will. Only once did I ignore this rule I had for myself and it taught me a very valuable lesson – I better be more prepared than this creep is! When I'm drawn back to that night I let myself go over it - every detail - as though I'm punishing myself for my stupidity. I will NEVER break that rule again! If I run out tonight looking for some fun, that would definitely end up in breaking Rule #2, so I guess I will have to be satisfied sitting at home, maybe watching some home videos, or going through photos. Yes, tonight, my memories will have to keep me happy. Oh - and I can start planning on when the next one will be, and how it will be - that will be fun:)  I'll have to stop and grab some wine on my way home!

I love my toys

Sometimes I sit at home and look over my tools, letting my imagination run wild. And then just when I think I've used them every possible way, another idea jumps into my head. Sometimes the idea comes in the middle of the night, and then I have to get up and write it down before I forget. I have a special penchant for my scalpels, my little control devices, used to terrify someone while they are looking at me completely bewildered, and I can small incisions, as many as I want, because none are really life threatening. There is nothing better than the sense of control or power I have over someone when my razor sharp blades are slicing through flesh like butter. That's the part I love, the part I'm addicted to, and the part that I need again and again.

Ralph was a little while ago now and I'm already looking forward to the next one. It's been on my mind for a couple days, I'm getting restless. I think I have my next one picked out already, my heart's been set on him for awhile. But I have to wait until the time is right. Patience is a virtue:)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


       Normally, I like to sleep in, but no such luck today. My sweet dreams were interrupted this morning by the sunlight pouring in my bedroom window at an obscene hour (dawn, presumably). Unfortunately, I'm one of those cursed people who are awake for the day the second my eyes crack open and are invaded by the light of day. So, I got up and dragged my hung-over body into the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on (a full pot this morning). I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror and I looked like hell, make-up smudged down the right side of my face and left over hairspray now looking like dandruff in my normally perfectly coiffed hair. Well, the way I looked certainly matched the way I felt. I showered quickly because that cup of coffee could not be in my hands fast enough.
        Anyway, I settled down at the kitchen table with my coffee and pushed my research data out of the way (although I should have reviewed a couple of days ago). I picked up yesterday's paper and came across a little article that caught my eye. The article was about a young man - we'll call him Ralph- who had recently gone missing. The missing man's brother denied the possibility that Ralph had run off even though he was recently being accused of some sort of sketchy business dealings. However, police stated they 'had no reason right now to suspect foul play.' As I skimmed through the article I put my coffee down on the table and moved my hand past the mug to the knife just behind it. Caressing the handle of my favorite toy, I couldn't help but smile. They don't know where "Ralph" is. It's my little secret.

And then there were more...

Ralph was only one of my many secrets, one of the many times I had fun with my favorite knife that way. It is the perfect knife - I sharpen it myself in my barn out back. The handle is long enough to hold with both hands and the blade never seems to cease calling me. It's been too long since Ralph, and I'm getting bored.