Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/24/16

My god; how can you sleep in a hostel and be so utterly pretentious?

As the summer draws to a close and the weather moves from scorching to freezing, the downtown area is filled up with hikers and tourists on their last trip before they head home. In a burst of insanity, it seems, I checked into a local hostel so see what fresh victims could be found.

To say the least, my weekend was crowded and disgustingly sweaty.

First of all, sleeping six to a room is uncomfortable and wearisome. Stuck in a room full of girls who are either shy and uncomfortable or won’t fucking shut up is a special level of hell I never thought I’d live in. Their ages ranged between barely legal and mid-thirties so the diversity was nice I suppose. Many different lives converging and all that; but I would not give up my privacy for all the victims in the world. And then, we sat around the breakfast table and swapped stories about our summer adventures.

The ego on some of these people.

“I hiked all the way up this mountain and then camped with a family of bears before hitchhiking my way through this area and that area, and oh have ever been to this site? Don’t, it’s rubbish.”

Their conversations alone would have made anyone turn to murder. As it was, I lasted Friday and Saturday night before I took the opportunity to strike out. I offered to show one of the loner girls around the town before she headed home. She was early-twenties, quiet, didn’t known anyone in town.

Too, too easy.

I sometimes worry that I’m setting the women’s movement back by discouraging young women to travel alone. I’d like to think I’d just as easily kill a young male traveller if he crossed my path. We’ll just have to test that theory.

Not at that hostel, though. Never again. I cannot stand the chatter and the crowds. Not in such a closed environment where everyone can notice everything.

I just can’t.

Not for a while anyway, I need some peace and quiet before I head back into the fray. Home is a nice place for that. It’s been quiet for a while. A nice way to close out the summer.

My god, where has the time gone? Seems like yesterday I was in Miami, seducing the pool boy and soaking in the sun.

Looking back on the past few updates, so much has happened and yet so little. Sometimes I seem to just…ramble about nothing.

I started this blog to document my life and my murders and while I still release all that energy on the page and on the streets, I find more comfort in releasing my fears and hopes in my personal life. Do you care about those things, dear readers? Am I writing this for my own amusement?

I wouldn’t care if I was, I could use some amusement but I’d like to know: is it all worth it?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/17/16

Remember how I wanted to ask Jason to teach me some of what he was working on to get better acquainted with his interests? I thought it was a good idea. My son did not. His reaction, when I asked him on Saturday, was to laugh at me then shake his head and say “oh come on, mom.”

He called me mom; that was nice. His flippant rejection was a bit harsh but I understand. I’m old. What could I understand? That’s his thinking, not mine. I accept the stereotype that most children think their parents know nothing about technology. I’d like to think I’m better than the average dumb parent but if I’m being perfectly honest my sister is way better at it than I am.

Speaking of my sister…

She’s still under the impression that she’ll be out in a month. I will make sure that my sister stays exactly where she belongs. I owe it to this old town: only one woman prowling the streets at a time. Two is just e\sdrsfgbcv

Edit: My chair just broke.

James is now awake and laughing at me.

It’s going to be a long week.

Although I did have a little fun yesterday. As I was driving home I passed a man who was wearing a t-shirt that read “This body knows no pain.” I took it as a challenge; I won.

It was a standard kidnapping, I hit him lightly and convinced him to let me drive him to the hospital. We ended up at the lake just outside of the city with nothing but a tarp and the tools to change a spare tire. Did you know you can fit a jack between nearly every major moving joint and just *pop* dislocate them? The hips were especially fun. I had his knees tied tight together and then put the jack right near his pelvic bone and just kept pushing. When his hips popped out, they made a little heart shape – until I changed the direction of his knees.

The human body can be twisted into amazing positions if you know how to get creative. When I dumped him in the lake he was a sort of “G” shape. Rigor mortis was just starting to set in (I may have kept playing with him after he died, he was so pliable by that point) so his hands stand twisted above his head and his dangling, broke toes just completed the circle. You know you play with silly putty or play-doh and you create little sculptures that you can twist and pull and squish to your heart’s content? He was like that.

I’m gonna miss that guy.

Anyway, that’s really the only fun I’ve had lately. Not that things have been horrible, but that was the stand out moment.

That. And breaking my chair. That wasn’t fun.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe 

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/10/16

For those of you wondering about the currently open cold case involving yours truly, I’m more frustrated than worried. James’ precinct isn’t working the case so he hasn’t been able to find out much. For one: we still don’t know what new evidence has surfaced in the past two years.

I’ve now learnt the boy’s name and what he did for a living. Neither are of any importance which only makes me more curious about why this is happening now. I’d say it’s driving me crazy but I know what it feels like to go crazy and this is just annoying.

When the police know more than I do, lives are at stake.

I remember back when Sandra became suspicious of me. She called the police and had me questioned for such a trivial case – like this one. God, I wanted to kill her.

Maybe someone’s coming after me.

Maybe I’m paranoid.

Moving on.


Oh I can’t move on.

I find myself facing my mortality lately; reflecting on the way my life has gone – especially in the last few years. I turn 39 on Friday. In a year I’ll be 40. 40; that was a number I feared when I was a kid. 40 was old. It meant being settled down in my life, no more ambition or desire for change. No more adventure. And now I’m here.

I thought I would feel differently. Like something would click in my head and suddenly I would have all the wisdom that comes with being 40. I have the mentality of a 20 year old sometimes: a head full of fantasies and ideas about what the world around me should be like. Instead of accepting the world around me, I live in my head. I get so angry when the world doesn't look the way I imagined it as a teenager that I wonder if that's why I started killing.

I don't fear my desire to kill, or shy away from it - clearly - but I rarely question why I started. It was so long ago, I can barely remember. 40 seemed like such a lifetime away back then. In any case, I’m still 38 and have plenty of time to mope about the trials and tribulations of my life.

What ever happened to the girl who killed her high school crush behind the bleachers and was content with that life?

Oh god, what has gotten into me?

You know, I was so proud of myself: last Sunday marked a year since Sandra’s death and I held it together very well. However, all week I’ve found myself in a…melancholy sort of mood.

I don’t like it. I am in the prime of my life. The height of both my careers, a loving family at home; what more could a woman want?

Answers about this fucking case?

What do they have?

Ugh.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/03/16

I can’t believe that god damn fucking prick is doing this to me. That cock sucking son of a bitch is haunting me from my grave and thinks he can get away with it.

Whoever he is, he’s a dead man.

Literally.

Ldghfgtsdeavfkhuyustbsuykrvgbdghslmcalgnuyv!!

The police are reopening a murder from April 2014 because of “new evidence”. Some stupid asshole on a bus was stabbed with a pair of nail scissors and then the security footage mysteriously went missing. Clear cut case. No one is sure what this new evidence entails but it can only smell trouble for me.

That was so long ago. Another lifetime, another person. Before Daniel, before Sandra, before all of it. Things were so simple back then. My biggest worry was taking the bus after a minor car accident not ghosts from murders past.

And before you ask, yes, it has occurred to me that this is a common police method for smoking out a jittery killer and that would make sense if this news were coming out a few months after the murder but 27 months later? No way it’s a ploy. Not for some random kid. They have something and I need to find out what.


I apologize for my outburst earlier. The news broke only ten minutes ago, I’m still a little in shock. I’ll be fine in a few minutes, I just had to get this down now.

I will not be arrested for this or any other petty murder. I have been doing this for too long for my arrest to be meaningless. My challenge to the police is the same as its always been: catch me if you can and make it count. 20-something years of killing will not end because some cold case worker decided to be proactive.

I need to know what the police have.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 08/03/16

I can’t believe that god damn fucking prick is doing this to me. That cock sucking son of a bitch is haunting me from my grave and thinks he can get away with it.

Whoever he is, he’s a dead man.

Literally.

Ldghfgtsdeavfkhuyustbsuykrvgbdghslmcalgnuyv!!

The police are reopening a murder from April 2014 because of “new evidence”. Some stupid asshole on a bus was stabbed with a pair of nail scissors and then the security footage mysteriously went missing. Clear cut case. No one is sure what this new evidence entails but it can only smell trouble for me.

That was so long ago. Another lifetime, another person. Before Daniel, before Sandra, before all of it. Things were so simple back then. My biggest worry was taking the bus after a minor car accident not ghosts from murders past.

And before you ask, yes, it has occurred to me that this is a common police method for smoking out a jittery killer and that would make sense if this news were coming out a few months after the murder but 27 months later? No way it’s a ploy. Not for some random kid. They have something and I need to find out what.


I apologize for my outburst earlier. The news broke only ten minutes ago, I’m still a little in shock. I’ll be fine in a few minutes, I just had to get this down now.

I will not be arrested for this or any other petty murder. I have been doing this for too long for my arrest to be meaningless. My challenge to the police is the same as its always been: catch me if you can and make it count. 20-something years of killing will not end because some cold case worker decided to be proactive.

I need to know what the police have.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 07/27/16

Lawnmowers are just…so great when you’re in a messy mood.

Like I was saying last week, it`s like a wood chipper but more hands on which is great if that’s what you’re looking for. Friday, I was looking for loud and messy and fun – and I’m not just talking about my husband.

Oh my god, I apologize. That was a really bad joke even for me.

Moving on: we’re into the last week of this creative project. Overall, I think it’s been very successful. I will definitely be looking into more household poisons; hydrogen peroxide really caught my eye. Poisons are tricky, though. They never work the same way twice which sucks when you’re in a pinch but if you can take your time, poisons are just beautiful.

And speaking of taking your time…

My last kill in the garage. I think I might have done this one before but no specific event comes to mind so I’m using it. Air embolism. I guarantee if I’ve done it before, I’ve never used a bicycle pump carefully placed in a victim’s arm. I found him passed out on the street, very clearly enjoying the leftovers of a wild party. It’s a pity he didn’t have better friends who could take care of him. One shot and his heart gave out within a few minutes. Quick and quiet; there’s no shame in that.

This week’s endeavours were put to use in the living room.

Another simple kill that gets the job done: A photo frame I never got around to using. Not much to tell there. Blunt force trauma to the back of the neck, hitting the spine with the sharp edge of a wooden frame. Collapsed, most likely paralysed, and beaten to finish the job.

My kill last night was at least a little more creative. I pulled the coil out of an old couch cushion and wrapped it around my victim’s neck. With my husband’s help, we pulled a wire loose –after cutting the breaker – and created a little spark for our victim. A little tricky and risky but it ultimately wielded the right results.

One area I’ve never really worked with is technology and electricity and that area. I’ve mostly been afraid to because of how volatile the material is. As unpredictable as poison is, there’s no telling how wires and circuitry will react, especially since I don’t know what I’m doing.

I wonder if Jason deals with hardware or just software. Maybe I could ask him to teach me some things. It couldn’t hurt to get some more family bonding in before he starts school again. One more month.

But on that note, I’ve noticed Jason doesn’t seem as excited about started school as he used to be. Every time I bring it up – which isn’t often, I’m trying not to pester my son about his future even though it’s killing me to not know – he shuts down of focuses all his attention on his computers. I think he loves all that computer/technology stuff but being in a classroom setting is stifling his interest. I remember reading an article about children with ADD having trouble with traditional learning practices. I think – or rather I’m trying to think – as long as he can make a living and he’s happy, I will be satisfied. It’s hard to move my mind away from the idea that the only next step after high school is post-secondary education. There are so many more options for my child and I hope I’m open minded enough to support him no matter what.

I haven’t talked to James about my suspicions but I’m sure he’ll agree. As clueless as I am about raising a teenager, he’s even worse. He’s an only child from a middle class family who grew up with a lot of classmates and acquaintances but not a lot of child-age social interaction. He’s not the best help on these things. I’ll talk to him tonight and see what he says but I bet his answer will be: “Whatever you want to do, dear, I’m behind you.”

Isn’t he such a suck?

So that’s my agenda for the week. Nothing too special but hopefully this last week of forced creativity will bring a satisfying end.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 07/20/16

I’m so disappointed in my ability to embarrass my son. Just because he’s 18 does not mean I can’t still scare the living shit out of him around his friends. Or so I thought.

I was genuinely hungry after work yesterday so I decided to stop by his work and pick up a snack. Because I was in a silly mood, I decided to ham it up and play the doting mother. “Oh sweetie, are you getting enough to eat? Are they treating you well? Oh, you look so handsome in your uniform.”

The little shit played along.

He totally embraced the mommy’s boy routine and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. “Mom, I’m so glad you stopped by, I love seeing you.” He learned from the master of manipulation, and honestly I’m kind of proud. The best part: the young woman behind me ate it up. As soon as I stepped away, she began fawning over him like he was a puppy.

No shame. That is when I started laughing.

The little shit got me, and he got that girl’s number. I asked what happened to Sarah but apparently they’re “taking time apart”. Kids these days. Back in my day

Oh my god I can’t believe I just typed that phrase. I really am getting old. That phrase should never be uttered unironically. Promise me, dear readers.

On to happier topics. You’ve never known true joy until you’ve killed someone with a plunger. It makes this delightful popping noise and combined with screams of pain I was in stitches. I may have kept going after they died just to giggle. It’s a truly hilarious sound. That was my Saturday.

Sunday, I started with a new murder room: The Garage.

Like the kitchen, there are a lot of obvious weapons in there so the idea this week is to get creative.

But I’m definitely using a lawn mower tonight. I haven’t used it in years and it’s just so messy. Remember the wood chipper from a few years ago? It’s like that but more hands on. However, Monday was spent doing a little group project with my husband.

Some men bring flowers home for their wives, my husband brings victims. I think the most romantic thing a man can do is know his wife, not just buy generic gifts. It’s the little things that just say “I’m thinking of you, here’s something I know you’ll enjoy.”

So Monday evening was spent almost entirely in the garage with my husband and a random stranger he kidnapped on his way home. Blond male, early twenties, eager for work. Fish in a barrel. First we left him in the garage with the engine running for him to die of carbon monoxide poisoning. Then we cut up an old mattress and put him in. I’ve been nagging James to get rid of that thing for years and I wonder if he suggested stuffing the body in the mattress so he wouldn’t have to do it himself. Either way, we stitched the mattress up with our victim inside then we drove out of the city to some abandoned field and lit the sucker on fire.

A word of advice if you’re going to light a mattress on fire: bring a lot of kindling. It doesn’t burn as easily as you’d think. The material doesn’t catch well so you need to get it really hot and really spread out in a short period of time or you’ll lose it. And then it just becomes work. When it stops being fun and only requires work, then I just might stop.

Don’t fret, dear readers, I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. This is still an enjoyable pastime for me and my husband. Murder really does bring us together.

That’s my other word of advice: Find something that you and your husband can do together – outside of the bedroom – some activity that you both really enjoy and can engage in. That may seem obvious but I’ve seen couples who get married because they love each other, not because they have anything in common and that makes no sense to me. That’s the groundbreaking notion I’ve learned after 8 years of marriage.

Have something in common with your husband.

As always, dear readers,


Stay Safe