Wednesday 22 November 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/22/17

I’m not a major fan of slasher flicks. That may seem odd but here’s why: they get it so wrong. The weapon, angle, and force they the killer uses when attacking his villains rarely produces the amount of blood cinematographers think she is.

I am so distracted right now, I must apologize. James left his crime drama running on Netflix and now he’s watching it while he gets ready for work. He’s been binging some Australian show I can’t remember the name of but their language use is very hard to ignore when I’m typing.  

Now he won’t turn it off so who know who this update’ll turn out.

As I was TRYING to say: Cinematographers have no idea how much blood and gore are actually produced when a killer attacks his victims. Inaccuracies always pulls me out of my fiction. I have no idea how any of you handle my updates. They are riddled with half-truths. It’s all intentional mind you but it still can’t be easy to connect with someone you’re not certain you know.

Also Genevieve or whatever I called her before is proving to be such a pain in the ass. I doubt that’s what I called her earlier but that’s what I’m calling her for this update so…deal with it.

Not only is she incredibly demanding and adheres to a convenient schedule, I’m 95% certain she’s cheating on her boyfriend/lover/husband with another regular at the coffee shop. We’ll call him Roberto – because I will not remember these names come next week. He comes in every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, about fifteen minutes after my target couple and sits across from them so that when her boyfriend gets up, Genevieve and Roberto make eye contact and smile at each other. Every time, without fail. And then they’re both on their phones until he comes back from the washroom or from apologizing to the barista for his girlfriend’s behavior. Every Time!

And they’re not even subtle about it. I’m pretty sure the entire staff team know all about it and gossip about it behind their backs. You think servers and baristas don’t notice this shit and talk about it on their off time? You must also think teachers don’t pick favorites. How nice to have such an innocent perspective about the world.  


I called her Mary in my initial update.

Whatever. Genevieve is cheating on her sugar daddy with some businessman who is admittedly very attractive which just uped her kill potential by half. The more suspects, the easier to kill. We’re still only acquaintances who say “hello”, “goodbye”, and “what is with this weather” with a few comments about The Bachelor or the latest dance show. I haven’t been as focused on my project as I could be. That might be a good thing. Too much attention too soon will absolutely send up some flags. However, my concern is that the two secret lovers will be exposed, Mary will be out on her ass and she won’t come to me for comfort which will guarantee she won’t trust me enough to let me kill her. The ideal scenario is that she and I exchange casual acquaintance Christmas cards this year.

I hate casual acquaintance Christmas cards. They are such a waste of money. I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to it. Time to step up my game.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday 15 November 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/15/17

Somehow, it’s the Christmas season in the middle of November and I find myself not minding that much. As you all know, I have a rather complicated relationship with Christmas. I love the snow and the unrelenting optimism and friendliness of unsuspecting victims; but on the other hand: my family drains the life from me with every phone call and unexpected visit and eventually that unrelenting optimism becomes an elusive cynicism that is impossible to manage.

As usual, the moment Halloween was over – and even a little bit before – all the Christmas decorations came out and the holiday music started playing. It must be so odd as a musician to write and record Christmas music months and months in advance. I don’t actually know how long it takes to produce an album but I imagine Michael BublĂ© in his recording studio on the Fourth of July singing about decking the halls.

How did that man establish himself as a staple of the holiday season? You have Butter-whatever Turkey, Oceanview Cranberries, and Michael Bubbles. That and whatever Starbucks is happening – although, confession, I am definitely an Eggnog Latte with extra chocolate sprinkles (in case any of you were wondering) – seems to define the modern Western Christmas.

I won’t go off into a tangent about the rampant consumerism of our contemporary culture – mostly because those are college essay words and I am beyond that. And frankly I don’t care that our society has become obsessed with itself. It makes my job easier.

I know that life is not all about death but it’s something I’ve passionate about. If I could get paid for it, I would – although we’ve already established that assassination does not allow for nearly enough creativity or freedom. Maybe I should find another hobby as well. Just to balance things out. Any suggestions?

In any case; I’m feeling quite calm and content right now. I might actually be looking forward to the holidays this year. Of course, my mother hasn’t called yet. We’ll see if the two of us can get through the holiday season without incident.

I doubt it. What fun would that be? I don’t know if that sentence was grammatically correct. Any English majors in my reader-base?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday 8 November 2017

Your Mid-Week Update 11/08/17

I’ve often thought about writing a book. Some tell-all tale about my life as the secret killer of [name redacted. Obviously] published anonymously as the next best-selling novel of a generation. And then I remembered that this is the internet and nothing is anonymous. I miss those days. When you could be or say anything and people had to believe you because all of your information is immediately accessible. I grew up just after the epic age of rampaging murderers, charming killers who could lure you down any dark alley. When it wasn’t safe to even walk in groups or stay at home alone. What a time to be alive!

Literally. There were so many active serial killers roaming the streets, you were more likely to survive a colonial winter. Do you know how many…

I went downstairs for a cup of coffee and genuinely forgot what I was about to say. Don’t you hate that?

The point is, I’m living in a time where killing is not as easy as playing the victim and charming people into your car. I never truly had those days but now, true anonymity is a thing of the past.

I know that one day the world will discover all of my secrets but until then, I’m going to enjoy my little corner of the world and stave off the book writing for right before my trial – poison the jury pool. Not that I plan on ever getting caught. I’ve thought long and hard about how I want my days to end. Nothing will ever be quite good enough to close on the greatest serial killer of the 20th and 21st centuries. Oh yes, I’ve checked the numbers. I made it to the top! I wonder if this is a record the Guinness people will want to recognize.

One day my work will be studied. I guarantee.

Or perhaps no one will ever find out and I’ll fade into obscurity.

I don’t know which I’d want more: to be finally recognized for my years of hard work; or to never be caught even in death.

Decisions, decisions.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday 1 November 2017

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/01/17

Halloween was fantastic. It’s the most I’ve enjoyed a holiday in a while. I got to completely lose myself in the (fairly recent) gore-y traditions.

You know how there’s only one real case of poison-laced candy? Now there’s two.

You know how the dumb blonde in horror movies always goes up the stairs instead of out the front door? It’s true for any hair colour.

You know how you walk down some deserted street alone and you just KNOW that this is when you’re going to die? I waited until you were in a crowd of people to stab you from behind. They never noticed you until I was already gone.

That’s the beauty of Halloween: everyone is in disguise.

This year, the local police department set up a haunted house to raise money and create a “safe and fun space for kids to go”. It was the perfect hunting ground. If you went into the house after 10, only half of that blood was fake. If you went in after midnight, you never came out again. Of course, if you went in after 1, you’d have no idea what I was talking about. The only thing our police department is thorough in is cleanups. Their crime scenes are immaculate after an investigation is through.

That’s not meant as a slight against my husband; he’s very good at his job, and I’m sure if I gave the rest of his department a fair chance, they might be able to catch me.


I’m still riding that high from last night. So many people scarred for life (in more ways than one). I love a good slasher night. And Halloween is just…too perfect.

Of course, I’m exaggerating; I only killed three people. I’m not stupid enough to go on a full-on murder-spree in the middle of a police event – I’m good but I want to live. Still, I had fun and a lot of guests were entertained.

I made Jason stay home to hand out Halloween candy. He made some off-handed remark about having to cancel plans for me but I know he didn’t have any plans. No costume, no late-night phone calls (the walls are too thin), no new friends. He wasn’t going anywhere. At least I gave him an excuse – and I didn’t call him out. I can be a good mother.

At least I didn’t tell him what I was up to all night.

I know he still doesn’t approve but he doesn’t ask me to stop so I won’t push him either. It’s a mutual silent agreement. That’s good enough for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe