Chronicles of Madness

Fuck... I'm not even PMSing

In my next life I want to be a snake.

Also

I want to be born into captivity… at a zoo.

If I’m not born at the zoo I will do whatever it takes to get to one. I will slither through forests, across highways, under bridges and over rivers. One day a zoo keeper will look down… and I will be there.

“Hi Zoo Keeper” I will slither.

“What the fuck?” Understandably the zoo keeper will be pissed that once again his zoo assistant has slipped him acid. Fuckin bitter assistants.

“I’d like to live in your zoo. I love children. I love people. Once upon a time I was a beautiful girl, but I led an obnoxious life where I tended to say the word ‘fuck’ a lot. Now I am a snake, paying for my crimes. Please, let me be with the people again.”

The zoo keeper will kick at me, “Go away you stupid fucking snake.”

“If you don’t let me in I will tell your wife that you have been fucking the sheep again.”

Zoo Keeper will look around nervously. “Shit.”

And I will live in the zoo, just as I always dreamed of. They will feed me regular meals and I will grow fat with contentment. But I will also be a much different snake than any other snake in the zoo. Not because I talk, after Zoo Keeper I will talk no more, but because I will be so amazingly cuddly.

Who ever heard of a cuddly snake?

I will be a vegetarian, refusing to eat the mice and I will rub up against my handlers like a cat.

“Oooh” they will ahh. Who ever saw such a nice snake?

Eventually they will start using me in shows. Trainers will comment to each other, “use that snake. Yeah that one. Nicest fucking snake you’ll ever meet.”

Eventually the trainers, noting how much I love people, will start sending me on travelling shows to neighborhood schools. At the schools I will stare at the children… radiating my love. Noticing this my handlers will allow the children to gather round, petting me.

And that, my friends, is when I attack.

HA HA

It's Tuesday morning. Nine am. Fuck nine am. Fuck work. But hey, I need a paycheck right?

I'm sorting mail when one of the blonde social workers passes by. Her name is Marilyn, or maybe it's Katy. I don't know. All the blonde ones look alike.

Ok... Ok. Maybe ALL of the social workers look the same to me. I don't happen to be particularly fond of their "I'm better than you" attitudes.

"Hey, I see you have a spider bite there."

"What?" I look up from my computer screen to see Marilyn/Katy staring at me from over her coffee cup. Irritation passes over her face and she could still be either Marilyn or Katy. They're both bitchy.

"Spider. Bite." She gestures at my hand.

"Oh Yeah" I run my hand over my bumpy arm. "I'm covered in them. Fucking spiders are trying to kill me."

"What?" Carefully I go over the previous sentence in my head.

"Oh spiders. You know. They're trying to kill me." Fuck. I said fuck.

Slowly a crowd of fellow employees gather round me, all drinking coffee, all pissing me off with their apparent lack of work. Assholes get here after me, leave before me AND sit around chatting all fucking day.

"Explain this"

Ok. So here goes. Six pm I arrive home from work, go upstairs, change. In the bathroom I spy a black hairy ugly fucking spider. I hate spiders. I can't even kill them I'm so afraid of them. Warily eyeing the spider I change quickly and exit the bathroom.

Downstairs I fix dinner and settle in on the couch. Suddenly I spy the spider slipping stealthily down the wall near the stair case. What the fuck? Fuck it. I'm done with dinner anyway. Putting space between the spider and I, I move to the dining room to play on the computer for a bit. Glancing towards the living room I spy the spider... now above the couch. I was just sitting there! Asshole spider. I grab Tommy my fearless feline and launch him at the wall. He could care less. Fucking worthless hairball that he is. Whatever. Time for a shower anyway. Up the stairs I head.

Thirty minutes later I exit the shower to see... the SAME FUCKING SPIDER ON MY BATHROOM WALL!

Now... I'll admit. I jumped... and maybe, just maybe, screamed. At any rate, I quickly exit the bathroom, shut the door and head off to bed. Ha, I think smugly, stupid spidey is trapped now isn't he? But of course, the very next morning I wake covered in bites.

Sadistic bastard.

"Wait" interrupts one of the stupid social workers that I barely manage to tolerate, "how does that prove that the spider was trying to kill you?"

God these people are stupid.

"It tracked me, just like predators track it's prey. In fact, if you don't kill a spider, which I never can do considering my unnatural fear, they will always track you. Blood thirsty monsters that they are, they enjoy the hunt."

Brunette Social Worker shakes her head. "Terra. You are so silly. It's just a bite."

"Oh really BSW? Well then, tell me how Spiders get their food? Huh? I'll tell you how they get their food. They track them, bight them, then stun them with their poison until the prey is paralyzed, and then they wrap them up in their web and eat them. That's how. So what do you think a spider is doing when it bites your ass several times? It's trying to EAT YOU!"

I swear to god, it's like they never saw the discovery channel or used common sense once in their fucking lives.

For some reason Mr. Potato Head's new ad campaign shot sales thru the roof, with a suprising new demographic.

Idaho farmers.... who knew?

1. You buy me Jack... and then laugh about it. Fucker... you know I hate jack.

2. You used to blog, but now you don't. C'mon, there was a reason I had you bookmarked!

3. You make me write a haiku... which predictably sucks, and then I lose it on my desk promptly forgetting to post it. For weeks. Dammit!!! Anyway here you go Ty:

Whispers mark this room
Like flat beer and strange love smells
It is winter cold

4. You don't post... for weeks! FUCK! You're like a damn drug dealer, gettin me all hooked and shit.

5. Your name is CL.

6. Kidding. =)

7. Ok, not kidding. She is seriously way more organized than I am. Plus she has not ONCE made ME carrot cake! What's up with that?

8. You sided with my roomie. Wait, I more than internet hate you, I'm going to motherfucking internet KILL you! That's right. Watch your back!

9. You like spiders. I don't even want to know that you internet EXIST in that case. Spiders... yuck.

10. You don't read my blog. You suck.

And lazy... and overfed. What else am I? Shit, nevermind...a girls gotta have some secrets. Ya know?

So the roomie is gone. She left a note for me, along with her keys, many many holes in the wall and of course her parting shots. She called me a bitch. Hmm. Yeah.

Well, that's alright. The opinions of barely literate whores shouldn't weigh too heavily upon me.

Anyway this brings me to a dilemma. What to do with this blog? After all this blog was created as a place for me to vent and be furious as all hell. But honestly, I'm not a very good angry person. Anger makes me tired after a while. It's like nitrous for me. Explosive but soon spent... I suck.

Plus it's pink.

Oh oh what to do.

Is it possible to combine them?

Do you like me better angry, or less? C'mon. I need some input.

Which old witch?
The Wicked Witch!
Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is DEAD!

She fell off a cliff and died. On impact. No scapegoat heartattack for that bitch.

YAY... I'm so excited, oh yeah, and I just can't hide, oh no no no, I'm about to lose control...

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

You called me up last night and said you wanted to see me again. As if years hadn't passed, as if you hadn't been married and had a child in the interim, as if you and your new wife, now ex-wife, hadn't made me sign a paper promising never to talk to you again.

And our convo made me laugh, made me cry, made me hate you and love you all at the same time.

But it was a bittersweet kind of love and a funny kind of hatred... I forgave you a long time ago.

You told me you loved me still and I laughed saying, "You only loved me because I took your shit". And you laughed too, replying, "Terra you never took my shit. Do you think it's easy talking to you? It's not. It never was. You're so tiring, you never let me get away with my BS, always called me on it. And you always gave back as good as you got. Fuck you latina women and your temper". I smiled even though we were talking about bad things. I smiled because humor is the gift of forgiveness and when I laughed it wasn't filled with bitterness.

I love you silly boy and I miss you like hell, but I let you go a long time ago along with the dream that was us. I'm not the girl I was and I'll never quite be the girl you want me to be... and I'm aware that it works both ways. Once upon a time you made me laugh so hard I almost threw up, but you also made me cry twice as hard.

And so this is what I plan on telling you when you call again tonight: goodbye, goodluck, farewell. Be a good father, make better choices in wives and for what it's worth, if wishes were horses beggars would ride and I could give every little girl in the world a pony with all the wishes I wished for you.

Love,
Me

1. You buy me beer
2. You buy me patron
3. You buy me a case of beer
4. You buy me a bottle of patron
4. You buy me stock in ANY alcohol... always a good investment
5. You give me your virginity
6. You sacrifice things to me and build me an altar
7. You kill my roomie and bury her in an unmarked grave in the desert

Your shit better be out of this fuckin house by the time I get home or:

The locks are getting changed and we'll have a sheriff present when you come to collect your trash because YOU DON'T LIVE HERE ANY MORE YOU SMELLY PIECE OF SHIT!

sorry to say, that I am not, in fact, soft spoken at all.

Hi mom. I'm lying all over your pink skirt... and you can't do shit about it.

Jimmy: Remember when I was driving and we were in that police chase? Remember when you were driving and we were in that police chase? I know. I know there was more than one time… so pick whichever.

Remember when we got drunk in downtown Hayward and while our friends got in the car we climbed into that convertible and…. And then we went running for our friends, jumping into the car screaming, “GO GO!”. They were so pissed and I couldn’t stop laughing when you blamed our criminal activities on the fact that you had missed your anger management class.

You called me up today and talked for fifteen minutes about your little girl. Blond and so unlike you that you are still amazed when she calls you Daddy. You took her to the portrait store and afterwards promised yourself to be a better father.

Olivia: You gave me my first cigarette and taught me the beauty of second hand shops whilst getting me drunk for the first time. At three AM we snuck out of your house and wandered the streets of Fairfield in our PJ’s. Seventeen. Drunk. It’s amazing we weren’t killed doing half of the stupid things we did. You set me up with my very first boyfriend and always made me laugh with your outlandish ways.

You were never without a cigarette and every other word out of your mouth was “fuck”. In our Junior year you wore a shirt with the word “Satan” emblazoned upon it in the coca cola logo. I thought nothing could ever tame you.

Now you live in Ohio and you grow herbs in your garden. Your favorite outfit includes a pair of pink slacks from a name brand store and you are planning on getting married next year. You called me up today, trying to quit smoking, and talked about how ever single word in the bible is true. And I love you more than ever, brand new unexpected Olivia.

Bonnie: Remember how we used to take off at a moment’s notice to go drag racing or rent jet ski’s at the lake? Remember driving down a twisty one lane country road doing seventy while I counted sheep and stuck my hands out the T-Tops? I remember that we all got drunk and Olivia lit the butt of her cigarette and when I stopped the car she got out and peed in the middle of the road to the astonishment of the elderly couple driving behind us.

You died my hair fire engine red and my mom was pissed.

You went with me when I got my labret pierced and my mom hated you.

But Olivia was there for the tattoo. She has been forgiven, but you have not. Which I still can’t quite figure out. Good thing she doesn't know that you also got me high for the very first time. God. You were such a pothead.

Now you have a little girl you named Nancy and you are threatening to move to New York. New York is so very far away and I wonder why California isn’t big enough to find yourself here?

Phil: I remember that you hated girls and when I talked about drag racing, motorcycles and tire widths you looked up and said you would fight my boyfriend, your best friend, for me. R laughed until he realized you were serious and then he was pissed and we had to leave. You wrecked your brand new Passat driving drunk and walked home dazed, sure that the police were coming to arrest you and secretly, secretly I thought you were so hot that I was always partially planning on scamming on you. When R and me broke up you drove me home to Hayward and went back to tell him to grow the fuck up. Thank you for that.

You found a pretty Hollywood girl and got married in a big beautiful wedding. I heard through friends about the day your daughter was born and how the new house you bought was gorgeous.

Now you tell your wife you’re at Jimmy’s, but really you’re at your new girlfriends house, plotting on a divorce. You sold your monster truck and traded it in for a wagon and I’m still left remembering the time you said that the perfect girl knew only two things, how to say yes and how to fetch beer on command.

And me? I can’t remember the last time I did a burnout. I tried to chirp the gears shifting into second and the engine went, “thunk”. Last week Eric called me up asking what size engines they made for a ford during the 60’s and I didn’t have a fucking clue. I tried to jump a fence and gave myself a nasty bruise. Lord help me if someone had actually been chasing me. I wear dresses now, and make up, and at last, at very long last, my face is actually beginning to show it’s age. I look in the mirror and am struck dumb.

I never thought we’d grow up.

So...

I wish I was black. Cuz I'd use it as an excuse to be hella ghetto. I'd play dominoes all day and wear gold teeth. When people borrowed money from me and didn't pay me back I would say, "Where's my motherfucking money punk?" and if they didn't have it I would bang the table until all the dominoes fell on the floor saying, "I know you have my motherfuckin money cuz I know I saw you up on third last week with a brand new jacket." And then if they started stuttering about how they can't pay me I would look around muttering, "Oh no he didn't. Oh no he didn't. Motherfucka didn't just walk up into MY crib in a brand new fucking jacket without MY money acting like we all cool and shit!". I would say "skrill" and I would punch random people in the mouth just because I was black. Anytime anything went wrong I would say the "man" was keeping me down. I would also drink 40's and holla "Punk Ass Bitch!!" at random men passing by my front stoop.

I would dress like a gangsta and when people rolled up their car windows I would lunge at them, showing them my gold filled grill.... and then I would try to sell them a watch.

Roomie: If I was ghetto I'd steal your motherfuckin rims and shank your ass right after I slept with your babies daddy and stole your food stamps. Now what?!

ya (head roll, shoulder shrug, cuz I'm a badass. You know )

Because I called ahead and they're expecting her!



I told them she stole Cookie Monster's cookies and kicked Big Bird in the ass. Now they're all riled up screaming, "Don't fuck with puppets bitch!".

Dear Roomie,

For like the last time, my IQ is NOT, I repeat NOT, 5! I CAN tie my motherfuckin shoes! Thank you very much! So...

When YOUR best friend tells MY cousin to say hello and to have me give her a call, I do not think, "YIPPEE!".

Hello?

I'm not stupid. I know that this is a girl trap, so you can camouflage it with all the perfume, lipstick and Coach pumps you want but I am not going to fall into your stupid hot pink girl trap. If you want to talk shit about me then do it to my face. Fucking cowards. Don't pretend to be my fucking friend just so you can dial each other up after I hang up and talk shit about me. FYI: I'm a girl. I don't fall for that shit.

So do me a favor, get your skanky ass out of my house.

Signed,

The girl who's contemplating throwing cheese in your dresser drawers.

PS

Grow the fuck up and pay your rent. We're not in high school anymore.

A couple of weeks ago me and the roomie were still on speaking terms... sorta. So:

She was watching TV and I was in the dining room composing an email when Etta James came on in a commercial singing, "At Last". The roomie's eyes get misty and she says, "That was the first song at my wedding." I thought for a moment and then started laughing.

Now you have to understand how I laugh. When I laugh, really laugh, it is not uncommon for me to fall to my knees clutching my stomach. That was this kind of laugh.

"This, this was your song?!" She looked really annoyed at this point. "At Last?! You've got to be kidding me! You were 17 when you started dating him for god's sake. HA HA! When did you expect to meet the love of your life? 12!" Then I laughed some more.

At Last. Give me a fucking break.

God I hope so. You signed the fucking paperwork... AT LAST!

And it's a good thing too because I was about to do things to you that were sure to send me straight to hell... maybe. Or maybe Jesus would shoot your ass too... I can't quite remember his policy on whores sans morals. Lucky you.

At any rate, I am not going to throw all of your belongings into the parking lot... for now. Unless your ass is still here come Monday. BUT... you are doing laundry before you leave. And for some reason this is pissing me off. I think mostly because you haven't paid any part of the rent, electricity or water. And now you are doing your laundry... FREE!

But you just got your hair done. It's been straightened, cut, colored and layered.

And you bought brand new moving boxes.

And you haven't eaten at home all week... which means you're eating somewhere.

By the way... everyone else has noticed these things too and are constantly pointing them out to me. It's annoying.

I think I'm going to throw a tad bit of bleach into the bottom of the washer now. Not enough to cause holes, but enough to change the color of your clothes. Fucker.

Hi! I'm Terra's Roomie!

Wanna hear a funny story? I moved in with Terra and then completely fucked her over! Ha ha. In fact I even almost got her evicted! But then she paid my half. Fuck. Oh well. Now I live in a great condo rent free! I am smrt. Reely smrt. She even said that she would let me out of the lease and help me move. Pfft. Fuck that. I mean, what if the new person actually makes me CLEAN up after myself? No fuckin way. She's sooooooooo stupid though! I told her that I was going to go sign the papers today saying that I would move out, BUT I DIDN'T! I waited for her to go to work (see how dumb she is? she actually goes to work) and then I split. Right now I'm just wandering around town looking for expensive crap to buy. Ha, I am so much smarter than her. She said she would help me move but I told her I had REAL friends to help me. Not stupid fake friends like her. My real friends even backed me up. Terra is such a bitch. I mean, c'mon, what's a little eviction between friends? REAL friends? That's right. Nothing. God she thinks she's so fucking smrt, with her degree and shit. Well if she's so smart why did she pay my rent this month? HA HA

Well, gotta go. I have lot's of guys... I mean stuff, to do.

I wandered around in Target tonight avoiding my house and actually felt lonely for the first time since last year. That's right. I missed the roomie... you know, the one living in my house rent free.

Then I came to my senses and bought bleach for her shampoo bottle.

HA HA!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Roomie,

Remember how I took today off so that we could go down to the leasing office to sign the paperwork saying that you no longer live here? Yeah. Thanks for bailing on me. And that lie about how you had to go to work? Thanks for crediting me with the intelligence of a gnat. You? Work ethics? What the fuck ever. Your lucky I didn't smash your face in the wall. Believe me when I say that I've already done the math. If you go missing the only suspect is me... which is why you're still alive. By the way, that was a nice touch pointing out that you want your deposit back when you haven't even paid THE FUCKING RENT... and it was even better when you asked for half of the PG & E bill... that you never paid! Oh and by the way, when I said that you were the most awful person that I had ever met, what I really meant to say is that you are the biggest whore I've ever met and I can still smell the football team that gang banged you last week.

Signed,

Me.

PS

Don't get into any arguments with me near any knives any time soon... we're not that far from the border.

Run roomie run. These glasses say I polish my rifle daily... and we both know I'm a pretty damn good shot.


When I walk past this is what my kitchen looks like... Appetizing.


Yummy! Dinner... from two weeks ago. Lard anyone?


Does this look like cat poop? It's not. It's the strawberries she was eating like two weeks ago... fucking disgusting


This is our kitchen... Roomies only chore is to do the fucking dishes. Nice fucking job. Pig

OK... I've vented a bit. Now here's the back story... the one no one knows.

My friend's parent's told me, "Why do you live alone? Why are you single? Beautiful smart girl like you? Get married! Get married!"

So I thought, hmm, I think I'll get a dog!

Except... I don't really have time for a dog... and I don't have a backyard... and I can't afford all the vet bills... and what if it doesn't get along with my cats? What if it stinks up the house? Who will watch it when I'm gone? Who will walk it when I work twelve hour days? What I really need is to RENT a dog!

No such luck though... so I got a room mate! What a terrific plan, I thought! Roommates are great, they can go to movies with you, there's someone to come home to, they're low maintenance, and if you die you don't have to wait until the neighbors complain to the landlord about the horrible smell your decaying body is creating. A roommate. Perfect.

I've had them in the past, and in general I've always enjoyed the arrangement. We split chores, alternated bills, had a safety backup on blind dates, an excuse to not let the wierd dates in the house, a work out buddy, a gossip buddy, and someone to try out new dinner recipes on. I come from a big family... I don't like quiet houses.

I talk to my cats too much. I would've talked to the damn dog too much too.

But anyway... My roommate had her own place, a steady job for the last four years, we were friends, she was coming out of a five year marriage, I was still recovering from a bad live-in situation from the previous year. I thought... serendipity.

We have now lived together for five months... she has been late with the rent four times. Last month she paid on the eighteenth... this month she has still not paid. In the house I pay for DSL, water, cable and phone. In addition to half of the rent. The only bill that was in her name was PG&E. Which she never paid. She let it get turned off. When it came back on I didn't ask questions. I just figured she had found the money somewhere... but actually it turns out that unbeknownst to me, she turned it on in MY name! That's right. The bitch turned it on in my name. Now up until then I think I had been a pretty good sport considering the fact that:

Sometime in January she just stopped going to work. Oh, she has a job... she just doesn't like it. So... well... she's really hoping that they just fire her soon. Cuz isn't that everyone's dream? Unemployment?

She cooks regularly and does dishes once every three weeks. I will post pics later... you won't believe it.

After staying home everyday for three weeks, and not cleaning ONCE, she suddenly announced that she was buying a dog. We have NO backyard, 1200 square feet and two cats, and she NEVER FUCKING CLEANS! Plus all the furniture in the house is MINE! What kind of dog did she buy? An English Bulldog.

Now that really pissed me off. For two reasons: One the dog is fucking forty goddamn fucking pounds and you can't even wash a dish but every three damn weeks you cunt! How in the fuck are you going to keep on top of a puppy? You BITCH! Second... that's the kind of dog I want! Now you might think that this is me overreacting but listen:

She had her hair cut similarly to me and then denied that it looked like mine, saying, "Well no, because mine is cute". She was pissed off when the hairstylist noted that it was in fact similar.

I have always been interested in photography and so now that I am being paid to do it she throws her photo 1, thats right folks she's only had ONE MOTHERFUCKING PHOTOCLASS, in my face all the GODDAMN time. And god forbid I actually know something she doesn't!

She is always pointing out how much better looking than me she is, and thinner, oh, and just so you know, her shoe size is smaller too... and

In the last four months she has thrown herself at EVERY single guy that has looked at me twice. Every one.

She is such a fucking biter. I don't even get the point. I mean how can you be in such a cut throat competition with someone who doesn't give a fuck?

She even talked about buying a del sol... I owned a del sol when she met me. It was then stolen. Everyone under the goddamn sun knows how much I loved that fucking car and how PISSED I was that it was stolen. Then she just blithely says one day, "Oh I think I'm going to buy a Del Sol. I would look so cute in one." Totally acting like she doesn't know that I owned one... SIX MOTHERFUCKING MONTHS AGO!

So now she is late EVERY month on her rent, not going to work, and quit her second job... cuz she doesn't like it there anymore. It's not fun. And who wants to work somewhere when it's not fun anymore? Bills? Pht. Screw bills. Those things are for losers. Note: If I went to work for "fun" instead of to pay my goddamn bills do you think there is anyway in hell I'd be sitting here right now? Oh wait! I'm so stupid! I should just stay home until I get fired so I can be trash too!

At this point she hasn't paid one damn utility bill for the last five months, and no rent yet for this month. And you know what she says to me? "You don't have any right to ask about when I pay my bills. It's none of your business. I'm an adult I pay my bills when I pay my bills and I don't answer to anyone."

On Saturday I blew. I was yelling, "Get out. I want you to get the fuck out. We are on a goddamn fucking eviction notice now thanks to you, which goes on public record! You are ruining my fucking credit! How am I supposed to rent somewhere else? What happens when I want to buy a house?" Her response? "Terra you don't know what I had to go through! You don't even care! I sold all my cd's and dvd's!"

Umm. Who the fuck cares? You could have just gone to work you stupid motherfucking whore. Tears don't pay my goddamn bills beatch.

And that's not even the half of it.

At my house there is a war. I have removed all furniture in the shared living areas. I carry the mouse from the computer with me at all times. Try to use the comp now bitch. I turned off her internet access today. Yes, it is in my name for a reason. I'm contemplating shutting off the phone. And if my parents let me move in next week, I'm also leaning towards shutting off water and electricity. Tonight I go home and wait. She's avoiding me. She doesn't come home til three now. I can't take this anymore... she called up the landlord to find out the exact details to an eviction process and I am livid. I am not fucking trailor trash you POS! I am not going to "work" the system like some goddamn, inbred, trailor trash, welfare piece of shit!

My boss knows I may not be in tomorrow morning. He knows that if she agrees I am throwing all of her shit into every vehicle I can find and kicking her the fuck out.

What she doesn't know?

Well... I won't say. In case she is smart enough to find this blog before her ass is out.

K. Enough details. I think I can rant now w/out you guys getting too confused. Oh... and rant I will.

This fucking blog is pink. PINK! It's so fucking girly!

I chose it to water down the nastiness that I am about to spew forth.

So what am I peeved about? My roommate. When I go home I am going to take pictures of what it is like to live with a goddamn fucking pig cunt whore.

You will then have full permission to express your sympathies to me... in the meantime I would just appreciate cash. Lots.

And I guess this is one of my main gripes, if you are not going to go to work, you are not going to clean the house, AND you are not going to pay any of the bills, at all, let alone on time, you could at least give me head. Or I don't know.... lube me up before you fuck me in the ass.

By the way, thanks for not giving me any warning.

I'm sure I was asking for it.

Can she see me?

Is she smart enough to follow the little blogger clues that lead you to my humble cottage in the woods?

I fuckin hope not. I hope a goddamn fucking bear saw her walking around and tore her legs off and while she was slowly bleeding to death she got to see him gnaw on them. Whore.