Not all serial killers are named Mel. Some of them even live near you. Make food deliveries to your place, and so on.
The last time I saw a decent review for a serial killer, it was about my Uncle Ed, a few years back now, and no wonder. Standards in the trade have radically declined in recent years.
Whatever it was that upset me last night seems to have crawled away and died. I can't tell by the smell though, I think. But something smells bad in here. Maybe the cat died again. He does that from time to time, the little scamp.
Before he died, and was buried, Dad said I should catch him if he ever got loose. I've been doing that ever since, about twice a week I'd guess.
Mom killed and ate a rogue tomato — said it attacked her. She don't mess around, Mom don't. It's how she kept us kids in line, the ones that survived. I'm still skittish around tomatoes to this day. And around Mom specifically.
Saw Dad again, running through the park, naked. Why? He never had this much fun while he was alive.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still breathing heavily.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
Well, God happens to be a close personal enemy of mine, as well as a notorious drinking clown, but I've been told that I'm OK as long as I stay way over here with the adults.
The School for the Godly was closed yesterday because all the students were suddenly incinerated without warning. Something involving lightning bolts and a whole bunch of swearing coming in from the distant cosmic background.
Knowing God personally isn't really that great. I once had a pet hamster who was a whole lot more fun, and he fit in my pocket. Didn't stink either.
Have you ever seen God drunk? Not pretty, but there's always a bottomless pitcher on that table, so you might as well sign up for puke patrol if you get too close.
God and me was down by Wally-Mart again last night, checking out the babes. Not as many as there usta-was, mostly gettin' older too, averagein' around 58 I'd guess, and no more young ones comin in — somethin' like MySpace. Could be time for Rupert Murdoch to buy it and put in a Hooters every here and there. Anyway, me and God gotta find somethin' better to do now, assuming I still want to hang out with him. Maybe not. I need a life.
If I had to choose between God and a jar of decent peanut butter, I wouldn't even need to think about it. Peanut butter leaves no guilty residue.
Have anything worth adding? Then try
sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Started thinking about stinkweed again.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
I am a noon witch, not that funny without my feelers.
I tried watering my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Wicked-Witch-of-the-West, and it did not turn out well.
Before we get too far into this, I should inquire politely — is this your first time drowning in quicksand?
I'd like to ask your name, but people get spooked when houses talk, so I'll just button up and quietly digest you.
Every day you look lovelier and lovelier, and today you even look a bit like tomorrow.
Webbly Weezer here. Glad to meet you. I'll be on duty until three. That's my nap time. Around dusk I transform into a werewolf and eat stray children. What can I say? It's a living.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow, like some moronic street gang. They keep coming at you because they don't know any better.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Not eating worms. Not any more.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
Subject: ALL YOUR DATA HAS BEEN HACKED AND COPIED TO MY SERVERS. INSTRUCTIONS INSIDE
From: India Fitzpatrick <jerkwork@dumshit.come-on>
To: Me!!!!
Date: 2022-07-11
Hi There.
The following is the very last notification.
I broke into your system using the Wifi router you were connected to.
Several months prior, I easily accessed the devices that you previously used to get online.
All of the information from your own gadgets & devices has been quickly copied to my machines.
I can take advantage of all your messengers, social networking sites, emails, chat history, & contact information.
My virus regularly updates its signatures (driver-type), for that reason it remains not visible to anti-virus tools. I guess at this point you see, the reasons why I remained quite until this present day
Whilst gathering infos about you, I noticed that you are a huge fan of adult web pages and even more. You actually like to stop by porn websites & view filthy vids whilst getting an orgasmic pleasure.
I've already created a web cam shooting videos of you jerking off. The cropping and editing of the video clip you were seeing at that moment & your masturbation. Your own face is clearly visible. I do not believe this particular information would be really good for your profile.
I can easily direct this video footage to every person who realize your identity.
I in addition have no challenge with making all of your discreet data open public on the web. I'm sure you know what i am talking about.
It may be a huge disaster for you.
I am able to mess up your life forever.
I really think you seriously don't need that to occur.
Now let's fix it in this way: you transfer me 1200 $ (dollars) using Bitcoin equivalent at the moment of transaction), and I will asap get rid of all of your information from my servers. After that, we'll forget about one another.
My btc address for transfer: andifyoufallforthisyouaredumberthaniam
If you don't realize how to transfer money and what Bitcoin is. Simply just key in the Google "Get btc".
I give you two business days to send the funds. The timer launched monitoring automatically once you opened this email. I'll receive a warning when this letter is exposed.
Do not attempt to search aid, as the wallet can't be monitored, email the letter is originating from & can't be tracked either & generated automatically, hence there isn't any point in texting to me. Don't try to get in touch with the authorities & other protection solutions, & should you choose to do, your own data will undoubtedly be revealed.
Switching security passwords in social networking sites, e-mail, and devices won't help you, as all the information is already downloaded to my servers.
All the best and don't do something foolish. Think about your personal future.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Shaking in my booties.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
"Pssst - hey, buddy, you got arms?" It was a voice I hadn't heard before, and coming from outside my head this time. A building was talking to me. A building. There are lots of them around here, so I looked. This one. Here. Huh.
On a pillar on a facade, there, here, a face. Faint. A faint face. It was looking at me. Like it knew me or something. Almost familiar.
Because it should be familiar, if I had seen it before, because I had walked along this street many times but never noticed. But maybe I had.
So maybe I had seen it and not noticed. Maybe we even knew each other.
Possible. So?
I forget a lot. It's one of my specialties, forgetting. Not everything though, mostly important things. I forget significant, important things and all too often retain the junk, the residue, the unimportant impressions, the mistakes, the embarrassing things. But that's beside the point, isn't it?
Because today this building was talking to me. A part of the building. A part at eye level, close by my ear. It was looking at me and asking me a question, this question: "Hey, buddy, you got arms?"
Of course I do — can't you see? Of course it could, this pile of masonry — it has eyes. So it can see. As well as talk, I guess.
Yes, I have arms. What you need?
"I dropped my cigarette. Fell out of my mouth. Can you pick it up for me? Put it back in my mouth?"
Sure, why not? I'm not a dick, at least not this morning, so not always. Sometimes though, but not at this moment.
So I pick up the smoldering cigarette and carefully place it back into the mouth of the face on the wall of the building right here, right now, this morning. And then I go.
That's about it.
I don't talk about it. Not often. Not with everyone.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Now I got something stuck in my ear.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
I collect stains — keepem in a box under the stairs, next to Grandma's lint and shrunken head collection.
We had a small earthquake today. Someone upstairs farted or something.
Uncle Wally Walpole's wife left him. Tired of having to use a stepladder. (He used to be tall.)
It was as quiet as a shadow falling through an open door. Whatever it was. (Didn't see it either.)
Go back to that crazy dark cranny, Granny. Rest your feelers. Cool your mandibles. Preen your pincers. Time is on your hide.
Physics is an interesting subject. I might be tempted to study if it I wasn't made of dark matter, and emit only dark energy. They haven't written the chapters on those yet, so what's the point? Plus I fart a lot now that I'm getting older.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@nullabigmail.com
Me? Just got my feelers waxed.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
