Your Mid-Week Update for 12/23/20

Remember how I was complaining about the lack of snow in my area? Well, I don’t regret it at all. The snow is up to my fucking waist and I am so happy. James and Casey are complaining about having to shovel just to get to the end of the driveway, but I am just so excited to make up for lost time.

All those bodies I can hide. All the death by exposure excuses for the coroner. All the white out conditions that can blindside a victim at three in the afternoon.

I’m like a kid at Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas.

I think this will be the first year in a long time that I haven’t spent it with my parents. Though, I honestly can’t remember what I did last Christmas since this entire god damn year has taken three decades off of everyone’s lives. I can barely tell you what I did a few months ago.

Oh no wait, I can: I was running with Heather all over the country trying to catch a woman that I don’t entirely believe existed in the first place.

Never quite going to be over how badly I let myself believe there were still monsters out in the world. That paranoia and obsession took hold of me so easily but the truth is: I’m still the scariest thing out there. I let Heather get to me because I trusted her and I wanted to believe that there was still more adventure to be had.

James pointed out that maybe I like being in danger. I like having people after me. I asked me if I like being scared. I was going to tell him that he was crazy for even thinking it but honestly… it was just nice to have something to do. You know, I was going stir crazy all year, trying to piece my family back together after Jason left. Having this other thing to focus on – this villain outside the home – helped me refocus.

But I still can’t remember what I did last Christmas. As it is: my parents can’t come over so it’ll just be the three of us. I want to reach out to Jason (even just a phone call to wish him a Merry Christmas would be better than not seeing him at all) but I don’t know where he is.

I could find him, if I wanted. I could track him down and confront him or make him come home. It’d be very easy.

But he left for a reason. And I will not lose another child if I don’t have to.

So this year, it’ll just be the three of us. And it’s enough.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/04/19

The body in the basement is beginning to smell.

He’s not dead yet but weeks of torture with no shower or bathroom have created a cloud of…disgustingness that is spreading to the rest of the house. No amount of Febreeze is going to save this so we’re currently brainstorming other solutions. If you have any suggestions, dear readers, please pass them on.

I think I’m almost ready to let him die. It’s becoming boring and tedious to keep him alive and Casey has learned all she can from him. I think I’ll let her choose his method of death and then show her my favourite body disposal area: construction sites.

So you know: if you’ve ever lived in my town of [redacted] and you’re living in a building that’s been built or majorly renovated in the last twenty years, there’s likely a body or body parts in the support. How fun is that?

I think she’ll like the trip. It’ll be a little pre-Christmas treat.

I haven’t decided what we’re going to do for Christmas this year. I haven’t exactly told my mother that we moved away. Or that Jason is gone. Or that Casey exists. I haven’t talked to her in a while. Have seen my dad since we moved him into a home either. I know, I’m a horrible daughter for not visiting him but it’s been a hectic couple of months.

So that tradition of my parents scrutinizing every aspect of my life is gone. Oh no. I thought it’d be nice to spend some time just the three of us. This will be the first Christmas with Casey – and the first without Jason – I think we could all do with a quite holiday.

It’s hard to believe it’s already December. James forgot his birthday on Monday so we surprised him with a simple dinner out at a mid-tier restaurant. All of us together like a normal family. I liked it. Not for all the time, mind you, I need a little action and adventure, but it was really nice to see everyone smiling.

It gave me hope. Maybe we can have it all.

Or at least we’ll kill trying.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/26/18

So…Christmas was yesterday. It was nothing like I planned and I absolutely hate when things don’t go according to plan. But I’m standing here…sitting at my desk, working the skeleton shift at work so there are three people here and I am exhausted.

First of all, this was the first Christmas in years that wasn’t spent with my family in my own home. No matter what family we’re currently speaking with and allowing into our personal space, Christmas morning is always spent in my house. While I understand why we had to drive over to my parent’s, I still didn’t like that particular change. Being at home is grounding and the holidays are…not grounding…and I have enough problems going on that others can accommodate me on this thing. So I was away from home.

And I was spending the day with my sister and parents for the first time in many years (considering my sister was in prison for almost a decade) except for the very uncomfortable meal I had last year with her and her parole officer. I don’t know the type of person my sister is – except that whatever her new parole officer thinks, she’s not entirely reformed – and that makes it difficult to trust her. Especially around Jason who seems to respectfully want nothing to do with his family. The big story is that I got more drunk than my sister at dinner but we managed to convince our mother to sign the papers. In the new year, we’re putting my father in a home. Still not sure how I feel about it. 

The other story is that degenerative diseases have not mellowed my father's harsh criticism of his daughters. We were scolded, compared to each other - which you'd think would have been easy considering who we are but you would be wrong - and generally made to feel like children again. Actually, we were made to feel like moody teenagers which I think is worse than children. Children get gifts and feel no guilt when consuming sugar. Moody teenagers get cash - maybe - and get the left over treats. I can barely process all the sugary foods I used to eat but indulgence is a necessity in my life and my father took that away from me. I could have used some moral support.

James had to work yesterday. I understand that there is crime to deal with other than me but I really didn’t like that my husband – my rock – was called to work on Christmas Day and I didn’t see him until early this morning when he climbed into bed. Of course he has the day off today and I don’t which makes it all so much worse.

This particular combination of people celebrating Christmas together hasn’t happened in about twenty years. It was as uncomfortable and unfamiliar as it sounds. Not bad, not dramatic, just…unfamiliar. I hate unfamiliar; it makes me anxious about what could go wrong instead of just dealing with the disaster that’s right in front of me.

Upon reflection, Christmas was likely fine - compared to the disastrous holidays our family has experienced in the past. I just really dislike the unfamiliar and yesterday was made up of moments of unfamiliarity and yet frustrating familiarity which sent me off balance - which is clearly something I am ill-equipped to handle without the help of someone or something.

And now I’m sitting at work, bored out of my mind because there’s nothing to do but I can’t leave the office for a quick boxing day deal because I’m heading the team of people who get to clean out of the offices and rearrange items for the new year. Lots of busy work for an office of people with nothing better to do. Sounds perfect.

This is going to suck worse than unfamiliar yesterdays.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/19/18

The holiday season is upon us and you know what that means: more murder.

A little more figurative murder this time...but I killing people is also not out of the question.

I'm killing to-do lists, meetings, shopping trips, stressful phone calls with my mother, and yes, even people. This metaphor might be stretched a little bit to emphasize the comedic element that I am also a crazed serial killer who enjoys the art of killing people. As well as to-do lists. 

Look. I love murdering people. Some might call it a fetish, some might call it an addiction, but ultimately, it's what gets me out of bed in the morning. That said: it doesn't pay me a cent - except for the few times I rob my victims posthumously (or as a pretext to kill them), I'm slowly learning that the things that bring me joy can't always take the number one place on my priority list. 

Sometimes, meetings go until late and I have to stay even later to finish up reports so that I can have time later to murder to my heart's content. Sometimes, a few days go by and nobody dies at my hands. 

I haven't killed since Wednesday afternoon when the waiter was rude to Heather and me at lunch; so I stabbed him in the thigh with nail scissors and threw him in the dumpster (actually, I lead him - because I can not lift that much).When you've been doing this as long as I have, your aim with major arteries is pretty damn good. Practice makes perfect.

So it was a nice, solid kill, but it was almost a week ago. And that would be fine except I could really use a kill right now. I'm stuck in some sort of catch-22. I need to work so I have time to kill, but I don't have time to kill because I'm working, but the stress of work is making me want to kill, so I'm distracted and taking longer to work so I don't have time to kill. 

And then there's the phone calls with my mother which make me wish I'd taken up smoking - if it wasn't a worse killer than I am. Actually, I've never crunched the numbers? Do I kill more people annually than cigarettes?

***

I've looked it up and I am no where near on smoking's level. Man, why have they not banned tobacco products in this country, it's a real problem.

As I was saying, my mother is insistent that we go to her house for Christmas because it will be my father's last time before we put him into a home. My sister told her what we were planning which is not a conversation I wanted to have over the phone but I imagine the world isn't entirely fair to villainous protagonists. So mother knows and she's more upset that we kept it from her than she is that we're planning to separate them. So there's a plus. I understand why she wants the three of us (plus my sister) to spend the holidays at the house but here's the thing:

I haven't been to that house in over twenty years. I moved out as soon as I had enough money to support my share of the rent and I never looked back. I have a feeling that there are things that shouldn't be revisited in that house. And now me and my sister are about to spend two days and at least one night (depending on the roads) in our childhood bedrooms. I have no idea what to expect. 

Pray for me. If that's your thing. If not, pray for me anyways. I may need some sort of divine intervention.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/27/17

I am officially on vacation until…tomorrow. The office is operating on a “skeleton crew” until January 2^nd which means I don’t have to come in every day but I do have to come in and man the phones/get some work done. No one uses our business over the holidays; it’s all factory owners and mid-tier rich businessmen. Everyone is on vacation! Unfortunately, I refuse to get paid to kill so if I want money, I have to go in to work on some of the coldest days of the year.

Actually, I Just looked it up and this is nowhere near the coldest recorded days for my area. It’s still fucking cold.

I don’t know why I’m complaining. This happens every year, and every year I’m thankful to sneak back to work. I think it’s because I genuinely had an enjoyable Christmas dinner with my family. While my father was a bit grouchy about “this generation” - to which Jason wisely kept his mouth shut – my mother was the one to change the subject and keep everyone level-headed. I was surprised to say the least. Not that my mother talked over my father, or tried to be happy even when tensions were high, but that she was calm and kind. She helped make and clean up dinner; she reminded my father not to inspect the house before we ate. She was uncharacteristically matriarchal.

At the time, I was just grateful for a reprieve from her relentless badgering but now that I write this out, I wonder if something is wrong with her.

I’m sure it’s fine.

So, I called my sister last week. My intention was actually to invite her to Christmas dinner but she declined. Apparently, she’s settled into a job and found an apartment with two other girls she met through her parole officer; she’s even met a boy. I say boy because he’s 15 years younger than her. I have nothing against two consenting adults doing their thing but I sincerely doubt this boy is mature enough to understand the complex nature of my sister. Maybe they’ll be really good for each other and end up in a loving relationship. Maybe they’ll just have good sex and zero meaningful conversation until it fizzles out. Both are possible. Both are fine. The point is, my sister didn’t come over for Christmas and I was fine with it.

It was a nice day.

And at the end of the day, isn’t that what Christmas is all about. Just having a good time?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/20/17

Thank god for snow. It just isn't Christmas without snow. I know plenty of places don't have snow for the holidays but I've lived here my entire life and change is not something I'm interested in.

Besides, bodies are much easier to hide in snow piles than gravel. In celebration of mother nature, I thought I'd do a few festive kills to get into the spirit.

Three, in fact. And the following are anecdotes from my week:

Candy canes can be easily whittled down to a sharp point. This is not new information but it is always useful.

Have you ever string someone up with ornament hooks? It takes a lot of work. More than setting up the Christmas tree – which is enough to make you turn to murder.

Inspired by that one novelty song, I ran over someone's grandmother. I assume she was a grandmother. She looked grandmotherly.

Either way I had a lot of fun and really got into the spirit.

I think it's going to be a good Christmas.

***

I just got a call from my mother. I've thus far avoided the inevitable obligatory invitation. It's not that I don't love my mother. Well...I've discussed our relationship at length.

We haven't spoken in a few months, actually and it was a polite conversation. I also haven't heard from my sister in a while. Maybe I'll give her a call today. I'm inviting them all to Christmas dinner. I'll clean the house for my father without complaint and harbor all my mother's snarky comments and make it work.

Because that's really the true meaning of Christmas: making it work.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and don’t die because I hate seeing my reader count dwindle without my permission.

And as always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/13/17

I can’t believe I find myself dreaming of snow. It’s been unusually warm this winter and the part of me that hates waking up early to brush off my car in the mornings is very grateful. The part of me that has come to rely on snowbanks, icy roads, and perpetual darkness is not happy at all. It’s been such a challenge this week to find ideal opportunities to kill. I’ve prided myself on being a murderer who can strike any time, any where, any way, but I rely heavily on outside factors. When the mood strikes me, I need to be able to hide a body. If I can’t control at least all of the factors, I’m not happy. I know, I know, I need to learn how to go with the flow – and in a lot of ways I do – but frankly, my line of work is very reliant on over preparedness. I can only improvise this much because I’ve put in the work beforehand so when unforeseen factors – like no snow in DECEMBER – put a wrench in my routine, I get a little irritable.

It could also be the holiday season that’s getting me down. I hear that’s a thing that normal people go through. I know I’m not technically a sociopath but I sometimes feel like I don’t understand human emotion to the point of calling them “normal”. For all I know, this is the December blues and has nothing to do with my lack of control over the weather.

Or maybe I’m upset that the police found one of my bodies within the hour rather than a few days from now as is tradition this time of year. Seriously, it is the middle of December; where is the snow?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/06/17

And suddenly it’s Christmas; I’ve done no shopping, the house is a mess and my mother has left three messages this week. November went by so quickly. I don’t understand how time moves differently throughout the year. I know I shouldn’t complain about “oh, where has the time gone?” Especially at my age – the age of too many mobile games and watching Bad Moms for the “cutie”s. Although to be fair, Justin Hartley is very attractive.

…

Sorry, I got distracted by his IMDB page. What a wonderful world we live in; random information at your fingertips.

For example: 76% of all serial killers in the 20^th Century operated out of the United States. The FBI estimates that there are 25-50 serial killers operating at any given time. That is so clearly a shot in the dark for them. They know that there are so many deaths and disappearances that go undocumented or unattributed every year. That’s the problem with 7 billion people in the world: it’s impossible to keep track of them all. Movies would have me believe that the government is trying – and succeeding – at knowing who and where everyone is but that’s just not true. I mean, they’ve got to have their heads too far up their own asses to properly keep track of what they had for breakfast.

That’s not a slight against our current political climate, mind you; I just don’t believe I’ve ever seen a truly competent government system. One that actually works together to achieve the collective interests of the people. It’s also impossible to

Nope. No. I will not turn this blog into political commentary. It’s polarizing, boring, and I don’t have nearly enough information to form an opinion. Now murder; I know all about murder. I can talk all day about murder.

That’s why I have this blog.

I recognize that I’ve been lax in my murder sprees lately – or at least in my description of them. I thought you guys might be getting too bored of the same thing week after week so I started telling you more about my drama than my kills. That wasn’t the right way to go. It’s time to go back to the original intention of this blog: bragging about all the people I’ve killed behind the anonymity of the internet.

…

Unfortunately I haven’t killed anyone this week.

Maybe this wasn’t the week for this kind of change.

Or maybe it was…

Probably wasn’t.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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 Bublé 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

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/28/16

I hope everyone had a great holiday. I had a fantastic time. I endured a fifteen minute phone call with my mother, successful ignored my sister’s and my brother-in-law’s separate attempts to invade my family celebration, and managed to get the rest of the week off. I am free until the New Year and lord knows humanity needs a fresh start.

This has certainly been a crazy year.

Between Charlotte, and Heather; David Bowie, and Carrie Fisher; Donald Trump: I haven’t experienced such a roller coaster in quite a long time.

On the 23^rd (Friday), I was called into Ron’s office just as I was about to leave for the weekend. Now, Ron is a friendly enough person in the office. He’s not someone you want to go for drinks with after a long, hard week but the man’s an amicable boss with only a minor death wish (as all humans in my presence have). So when he called me in for a “quick chat” I wasn’t worried. Mostly curious. I was anxious to get home and have a festive but quiet evening with my family and the sooner that started, the happier I would be.

“You’ve been working hard, despite your injury.” He said. “Take the rest of the year off.”

Why didn’t he tell me this back in February?

So in lieu of a bonus, I get paid vacation. Paid vacation that I would have taken anyway. Why do I feel like the staff is missing something? I hate that we’re not being told the whole story.

In any case, I’m off until January 2^nd. I don’t know what I’ll do with all my free time. Other than the obvious: drink, kill, watch TV, rinse and repeat.

Which reminds me.

The versatility of lead pipe is astounding. Not just bludgeoning; you can ram it down your victim’s throat and force feed them arsenic; you can force them against the wall and crush their windpipe; endless opportunity for creativity. It’s been a very entertaining week.

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, I answered the door to find my sister tearing me a new one because Andrew called her parole officer looking for her. How he got anyone’s number I’ll never know. But now my sister is terrified and I want to comfort her but I didn’t let her in for Christmas. After she left, I had a lengthy discussion with her PO about the situation and she agreed to keep an eye on my sister over the holidays. I haven’t heard anything so I assume everyone is all right.

I did get a concerned call from my mother Christmas morning asking why my sister was crying over her breakfast. I assured her that everything was under control, she forgot to wish me a Merry Christmas, and then hung up. Overall, the nicest conversation I think I’ve ever had with my mother.

And then…

AND THEN!

Andrew showed up Sunday night with a baseball bat thinking it would gain him entry into my household. James respectfully showed him the door with his fist and we haven’t heard from him since. I can only assume the worst.

Funny how that happens.

The only stressful thing to come from Christmas is that I finally had to tell Jason about his father. He was quiet the rest of the night and then Monday afternoon, he came into the kitchen where I was washing dishes and he told me that he wanted to meet his dad. I won’t refuse his request but he knows that he’s coming home with me at the end of the day. I have no way of contacting Andrew but I’ve promised Jason that next time he shows up, I’ll let him inside.

For my son.

It’s always for my son.

Or for me.

I care a lot about my well-being as well.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/30/16

So a lot has happened in the last two weeks.

About five minutes after I posted my update last week – you know the one where I said nothing ever happens and I hate it? – I collapsed on the stairs at home and was rushed to the hospital. Apparently I had an infection from the gift that keeps on giving. They’re keeping me for a few more days so I have to make this update brief. They’re threatening to confiscate all my electronics if I don’t stop working.

I hope this wound heals soon. At this rate, I’ll be on a first name basis with all the attendants come Christmas morning.

Speaking of Christmas.

It’s an early miracle; my mother isn’t coming, my sister isn’t coming, my mother-in-law isn’t coming. For the first time in, what must be decades, it’s just going to be my immediate family. James, Jason and I will have a nice, QUIET, dinner. I cannot even imagine what that silence will feel like.

Shit, the nurse is coming.

One last thing: Lydia has to die. Every day that I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve gotten a “reply all” email from her about trivial things. Like cleaning out the fridge or finding a bug in her cubicle. She even sent an email to the entire office about my hospitalization wanting to send flowers or some bullshit.

She has to go.

As do I.

Nurse Jackie has Jell-O.

Remind me to tell you about Nurse Jackie next week. She’s insane.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update 12/23/15

Deck the Halls

Deck the halls with bloody corpses,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Waiting for the time to strike

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Don we now our rubber gloves,

Fa la la  la la la  la la la.

Grab the bleach and start the scrubbing,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

See the blazing fire before us,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Slice them up and leave no traces

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Mix it up so you’re never caught,

Fa la la  la la la  la la la.

Spend your Christmas with the dead,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Twelve Days of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

Twelve Burning Bodies

Eleven Poisoned Blades

Ten Missing Fingers

Nine Gagged and Bound

Eight Bleeding Stomachs

Seven Days of Torture

Six Acid Washes

Five Broken Necks

Four Bullet Wounds

Three Tire Irons

Two Missing Eyes

And a Severed Head in a Pear Tree

We Wish You a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas;

We wish you a didn’t die;

We hope you stay inside and you don’t get slaughtered.

Good god this is rough I see all your guts;

You should have stayed inside now you’re dead on the floor.

Merry Christmas to all,

Stay Safe this Holiday Season

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/09/15

I’ve found myself in this odd state of December where I want to get into the holiday spirit but it’s just not clicking. I’m listening to the music, watching the movies – I’ve seen so many versions of a Christmas Carol, I’m beginning to side with Scrooge. Ba humbug.

I was right: a few kills made me feel better. Or at least they released some endorphins and gave the illusion of happiness. And that’s all we can really hope for isn’t it?

First there was the Snow White and her seven drunk suitors. I came across her trying to leave a bar on Thursday night. She was trying to leave the bar, not me – I think I’ve officially outgrown clubbing. Surrounding this poor 20-something girl were seven men all lined up around the outside of the bar, all trying to get her to go home with them. It was pathetic; so I stepped in and pretended to be her aunt to get her out of there. Once we were a few blocks away, we stopped to hide in an alley just to make sure we hadn’t been followed. The coast was clear so she thanked me profusely and we went our separate ways. Or so she thought. I watched her for a few blocks and then started following her. Stalking is such an ugly word but yes, I stalked her until she realized what I was doing and stopped to confront me on the corner of a deserted street. I told her that she’d dropped her wallet when we escaped and when she turned to check, I stabbed her in the neck with a screw driver. She bled out in the alley I dragged her into and her body was found the next morning.

Then there was The Headless Horsemen (a story which is a little on the nose but it’s still awesome). A man, driving his motorcycle way too late at night in a residential area, lost his head when a concerned citizen removed it with a chainsaw for disturbing her sleep. Of course she killed him in a cemetery where his engine was loud enough to wake the dead. Perhaps it did…

And finally, there was Harry Potter and the Cracked Skull.

I was very focused on the head and neck region this week. Huh.

Anyway, there was a man taking his sweet time walking around the mall where I was doing my Christmas shopping. He would constantly swerve in and out as I tried to pass him; and he walked so slow. Which is just careless. Spatial awareness is so important when you are in a crowded space. It’s just annoying when don’t keep up with the pace of the crowd around you. So of course as he was heading to the washroom, I bumped into him and he happened to hit his head on the tile and I happened to smash his head against the stall door until his skull was cracked and he died from brain damage within the hour – so my husband told me. I often enjoy getting my hands dirty but it means I rely more heavily on my husband to cover it up. Forensics science has greatly improved since I started this. Of course they haven’t caught up to me but they get better each year.

And so do I.

I was listening to the news on my way to work yesterday and they said that our city has the highest homicide and accidental death rate in the continent. And this is a major city. The crowds make it easy to do my job but I couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride when I heard that announcement. Not only do they not know who I am, but they mention nothing of serial murder; they don’t even know all of these killings are related.

Okay, now I’m starting to get into the Christmas spirit.

Speaking of Christmas spirit.

Heather got smashed at the company Christmas party on Saturday and she revealed a little something to our table: her husband didn’t actually ask to join in when he caught her cheating. He’s divorcing her. I feel so satisfied. She’s just a horrible person. I’ve been laughing for days; especially when she showed up on Monday morning and begged me not to tell anyone else.

Why would I tell anyone when I can use it as blackmail? She cares so much about her reputation at work, it’d be a sin not to exploit it.

So Heather is sated and quiet and I’m finally coming into the overwhelming feeling of joy and fulfillment that comes with the holidays.

Thank you, readers, for helping me work through that. I’m feeling a lot better.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/24/14

I have an early Christmas present for everyone.

Are you ready? I’m so excited.

But first: a short story.

Every Fool down in Fooville loved Christmas, it’s true

But there was one grumpy fool who couldn’t make do

The witch who lived in a cave on Sneed Mountain

Couldn’t stand to see happiness, she’d rather drown in a fountain (I know, shut up)

Her heart was so cold, it was blacker than soot

Abandoning her daughters, she was never hard put

But alas, every Christmas, she’d try to engage

With the children she’d left off to simmer and rage

On this joyous year she had one mild success

Inviting herself to spend time with excess

“Oh, how I miss them.” The old hag would cry it

“My poor absent grandchildren, I just may riot.”

So the old bat came down from her cave for one day

Then two days, then three. She might visit till May

On the eve of eve’s Christmas the old bag arrived

Knocking on the door like some poor child deprived

Behind her, an army of one man approached

The father, so silent, judgmental, and poached

“Oh darling the house is in such disrepair

And however’d you manage to muck up your hair?”

The girl kissed her dad’s cheek both once and then twice

Ignoring her mother’s unwelcome advice

Mom questioned the tree and the stockings and all

The poor daughter wished she would just take a fall

Down the stairs or a well or perhaps off a cliff

But would mother fulfil her Christmas wish? As if

So the family suffered an onslaught of advice

Trying to stay silent for their words were not nice

She invaded the home like an army of rats

Picking apart all the thises and thats

Mom just wouldn’t stop all her squeaking and squawking

Finally the daughter had had enough of her talking

She slammed the door shut in the face of her family

And went out in search of some old fashioned therapy

She scoured the streets looking this way and left

For one measly morsel that won't leave her bereft

She walked and she walked down two roads and a street

Till she found some salvation with the caffeine elite

She ordered a drink and smiled at the clerk

And seductively asked what time he was off work

He smirked and he sneered and he said “pretty soon

Then I’ll be all yours.” I pretended to swoon

At the end of his shift, I waited out back

And I showed him a trick that made him go slack

I took a lead pipe from the end of a brick

And I hit him so hard, so fast, and so quick

He fell to the ground with a splatter of noise

And I wished him good will filled with peace and with joys

Then I walked away, with my coat tucked in tight

So no one could see the remains of our fight

The street was still filled with a person or two

None who took notice of the boy turning blue

A bum, and a strum, and a vague fashionista

But that is how Barry was no longer Barista

That!

That was my surprise.

I killed Barry the Barista yesterday.

I’m so excited.

Can you tell?

Mom was just pissing me off so much that I walked out and ended up at the coffee shop and the next thing I knew, I was bashing his face in with a pipe. It was incredible. I have missed the sensation of blood on my hands. Scrubbing my nails raw. I finally feel like – despite my mother – I’m more in control.

And the best news is, this still doesn’t waver from my original plan of letting Daniel know that the tables have turned.

I took away his coffee boy.

It’s a definite start.

But after all that rhyming I’m exhausted so I’m going to go open the liquor cabinet and begin the Christmas Eve festivities with my family.

Have a happy holidays!

And, as always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Traditional Scottish Christmas

It’s getting close to Christmas and so I thought it would be nice to sit around the fire with a cup of hot chocolate and learn a little about Scottish Christmases. This isn’t some comprehensive guide by any means; just some little tidbits to amuse you.

First of all, Christmas is celebrated on December 25^th. Christmas Eve is the 24^th and St. Stephen’s Day (also known as Boxing Day) is celebrated on the 26^th – commercially, Boxing Day is kind of like Black Friday; lots of sales.

The Christmas Tree gets its origins from Germany (Tannenbaum) and are decorated with different lights and homemade decorations like holly and tartan bows.

Christmas Dinner is filled with many dishes but some musts are (taken from How To Have a Scottish Christmas):

The Post Where I Update You On My Post-Apocalyptic Blog

I'm not even going to apologize for excessive posts this week. This close to Christmas and the end of the year, there's lots to talk about.

So...since the world did not end - though a zombie attack is still totally a viable option - I suppose I should start thinking about the new year. 2013 is fast approaching and I thought I'd take this opportunity to let you in on what's going to be happening in this new year.

First I want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who has been following my blog these past few months. To those of you who commented...

You're awesome!!!! I know my blog is tiny but we're slowly growing and I really appreciate every one of you who are helping me along the way.

2013 is going to bring a few changes. I'm going to be starting a new semester at University (Shakespear, Greek Poetry, Archaeology and Chamber Choir...what) and - hopefully - a new job and possibly a new resolve to write one of the novels tumbling around in my brain box. And I'm also making one or two changes to the blog. Nothing big, just little things.

Fairytale Week: The Week I Went Insane

So this entire week is going to be a bit of a cry for help on my part. I am going to make myself go crazy for the simple reason that I love you guys that much. This week marks to 200th anniversary of the Brother's Grimm publishing their first anthology "Children's and Household Tales" and some of you may be like "why should I care?" and you don't have to but I love fairytales so of course I really wanted to celebrate with you. So all week (well actually just Monday-Thursday) I'm bringing you something Fairytale themed.

Monday: It's still Monday Fables but I'm sharing with you a fairy-like story I wrote about a year ago.
Tuesday: The world is latched on to the fairytale remake idea so we're going to go through some of them and their pros and cons.
Wednesday: Anna Meade, the fairy queen, is coming on to talk about the importance of fairytales.
Thursday: Marking the 200th Anniversary with a little history fo the Brother's Grimm.
Friday: No more fairytales but I've got an update on the coming new year - should we make it that long...
Saturday: In co-ordination with my other blog Aiden's Angels I'm talking about the Traditional Scottish Christmas.

So, lot's to look forward to this week. The reason I'm going insane is because I have my final exams this week and I haven't finished writing christmas stories for the people who are getting short stories for Christmas. Lot's of craziness for me, lot's of awesomeness for you guys.

Enjoy!