12 things I hate about being a serial killer
The media portrays serial killing as all glitz, glamour, and bludgening. I’ll admit, it is the best job I’ve ever had, but the downsides are killers. Oh, lookie! A pun! I kill me!
And you thought a sociopath couldn’t have a sense of humor! Doesn’t it just make you want to bite your face off?
Ok, enough good natured fun. Here’s my list.
12 things I hate about being a serial-killer
1. Cheating ass maggots. Sure, they tickle my hoohoo lovingly when I’m riding a stiff corpse, but then they go and turn in to flies and fly away to find another body-closet keep them warm at night. Ungrateful fucking sluts.
2. Cheap, chinese made icepicks. I can’t tell you how many living dolls I’ve lost to inferior icepicks breaking off in the eyesocket. Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to… you know.
3. Charity Thrift Shop Workers. Serial killing is messy work. I often have to burn my clothes to expunge evidence. Also, I like to dress up my playthings. I have to replace my wardrobe several times over each year — that can be expensive! The Goodwill and Salvation Army are big helps, and I’m glad the money I spend goes to help the community, but the people there are seriously creepy.
4. The police artist sketch makes me look fat. Also, like a man.
5. Horses. Nothing to do with serial-killing, I just really don’t like horses.
6. Fingerprints, for obvious reasons.
7. Charles Manson. Seriously, His bat-shittery makes us all look bad. “Oh, you’re a serial killer? You must be nuts, huh?” Charlie ain’t even a real serial killer! Lazy fuck had other people do his killing. He’s more like a serial foreman.
8. Amature psychologists. You took 300 level psych at BumFuck University, and now you think you can analise me? You think you know me? You don’t fucking know me!
9. Oranges. They’re named after a color they don’t even taste like. They should be called blues. While they don’t taste exactly blue, aquamarine is just too awkward a name for fruit.
10. My neighbors. They all say I’m such a nice, quiet person. Yeah, I keep to myself — because you’re all horrible sinners! Stop asking me to walk your dog.
11. Son of Sam law: If I’m ever busted (not likely, bitches!) I’ll not be able to profit on all the glorious murderbilia I’m sure will be created in my honor. (thx, kvn)
12. Lying ass instant stain remover commercials. Consumer reports agrees: They don’t do shit for blood stains.
So, that’s that. Excuse me, I’m expecing a delivery of lye.