Wednesday, January 3

As I Live And Breathe, You Have Killed Me.

President Of The Jamie Lee Curtis Fan Club.

Yesterday, the Missus remarked on how I like to walk around the house, wearing one of the several masks that I own, scaring her and the cats every chance I get.

This is true.

For the last few years, I've been making small transitions in my fashion sense, overall appearance and perception. In middle school, I was a flannel-wearing Nerd. In high school, I transitioned from Nerd to Punk, and slowly turned again from Punk to Sad Emo Kid.

I maintained this appearance for several years, before once again returning to my Nerd roots.

Within the last two years, I have abandoned the Sad Emo Kid/Nerd persona, mainly because I'm pushing 25 years of age. I've been recently going for a more 'take me seriously, but not too seriously' approach, boasting manly facial hair and hundreds of dollars worth of Urban Outfitters apparel. I want people to think that I'm a successful young man that listens to Indie rock and can still kick your ass in the clutch. It's hard to make people think all of those things based on the strength of just one dress ensemble.

What does this all have to do with the masks? Slow down, douchebag, and let me talk.

My next transition? Full-blown American Psycho.

It's a perfect fit. I can still wear the blazers, suits and argyle I've been filling my closet with, only now I get to scare people and potentially murder them. Let's face it, I've been teetering on the border for a long time now, it's due time I made the most of my abilities. My music tastes needn't change, I can still wear novelty shirts, and I get to throw in an axe-murder every week or so.

Thank goodness I already have the masks.

Sound off in the comments section and give me good advice as to how I can properly achieve this new persona.

Oh, and don't even pretend like that's not the coolest photo you've seen all day. Stare into my eyes for awhile; it's hypnotic and will likely cure your various ailments.

hmm american psycho look... well I would say you need a flesh belt complete with knee cap belt buckle. You would also need to master moving your eyes independently of one another and pick out a mass grave site for your victims
I'm so far ahead of you that it's borderline uncomfortable.
It's been a rough few weeks. We'll make it through this together.
Hey, talk to you later.. I gotta thing... now... yeah... *whisper* police...
...I gotta go...clean....the fridge...

One of my favorite books. Own a really tattered copy that I tattered myself, left in the rain, all of that business. Read it when I'm feeling down, quote it when I want a quick laugh. There's the best Ed Gein quote in there, EVER:

"When I see a pretty girl walking down the street, I think two things. One part wants me to take her out, talk to her, be real nice and sweet and treat her right. The other wonders what her head would look like on a stick."

Weird but true. Sometimes I walk past people on the street and try to imagine what's the worst thing they've ever done in their lives. Makes me feel better about myself.

Whenever I tell a non-Wisconsinite where I'm from, they almost instantly ask me about Ed Gein or Jeffrey Dahmer. In most cases, it would seem like a silly thing to ask, as not everyone from Wisconsin has intimate knowledge of the man.

I, on the other hand, have had several conversations with a woman who had Ed Gein babysit her children back in the day. She's advanced in age, but she'll still tell you the story if you ask her.

She recalled to me the moment when she realized that something was wrong with him, and she promptly told Ed that he was no longer allowed to babysit her kids. When he began showing up to the house in an attempt to see them, she pulled a shotgun on him and demanded he leave.

Just imagine how history would have been re-written if she had pulled the trigger.

I cannot believe I've never brought that story up on the CDP before. I'm going to start writing it right now. I might even give her a call.
I heard the extended and probably much exaggerated version of the Ed Gein tale the summer before 3rd grade from an imaginative uncle. Come Halloween-time, my teacher Mrs. Deaton said, "Okay, kids! We're going to have a spooky story contest!" On the day we celebrated, she turned off most of the lights so that just the fluorescent glow from the window to the hallway slipped in. Classmates told stories of the Creepy Pumpkinhead and the Ghost in Grandma's Attic. I told the Ed Gein story, word for word, body part for body part, just as I had heard it months before.

I don't think I have to say that I won the contest.

I won the contest.

The truth is always scarier than fiction. Unless the truth is a lie.

Speaking of Dahmer, I recently purchased 3 venus fly traps. Because I'm a sick individual, I named them Dahmer, Bundy and Gacy.
CDP: Here's an effing lozenge.

JT: I propose that you sizzle Dahmer for dinner some night. It would be apropos and proposterous all at once, which I appreciate. I hope he's not poisonous.

Anyway, make sure to wikipedia Ed Gein. Here's an excerpt:

At the age of ten, Gein experienced an orgasm upon viewing his mother and father slaughtering a hog in a nearby shed.

Y'all own Wisconsin Death Trip, right?
Kenny, while I appreciate your reasoning behind me eating Dahmer, I can't do it.

He's my favorite of the three traps, being the red dragon variety.

I almost named them Alvin, Simon and Theodore instead.
Let it be mentioned that I was coughing as a sort of delicate punchline to my nonsensical statement. I was in no means implying that you made up the Halloween Story story. Knowing you, I'm sure it was divine.

I haven't yet picked up Wisconsin Death Trip, merely because it's $35 and I've seen the whole thing already anyways. That being said, I will axe for it for my birthday, and everyone in the world should own it at one point.

When I was around 10, I saw some friends of my Dad shoot a hog to death in my barn. Unlike Gein, I didn't enjoy it one bit, but like Gein, it screwed me up royally.

Boy, this is one of the darker days in CDP history. Tell me again why I busted out the scary masks?

Oh, that's right. Because I'm depressed, and will be until February. Check and mate.
A Thayer's trip will cure what ails you. Nothing like a good old fashioned haunting to spook you out of a rut!
I'm sure you already know this, Missus, but Ben and Sherry are able to join us in Minnesota. She commented aboot it in my previous post. This should be a good time; I can hear the Mall of America calling my name.

You're right, though. I think this will finally be the trip where I have the pants-crapping ghostly encounter I've always wanted.

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