A bit disturbed...
Sep. 17th, 2002 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightrosefoxThis morning as Adam and I were getting ready to leave the house and be off to our respective jobs, I noticed that he had gone down to the computer room and was playing around with the CD burner. I thought, Gee, he said we were supposed to leave by 7:30 so he could get to work early. It's 7:40. So I politely asked him what he was doing. It took me a few minutes, and after what seemed like pulling teeth without novocaine, it was revealed that he was finishing a compilation CD for the drive to VA. Now, I wondered, why couldn't he have just said that instead of, I'm doing something. Yes, it was obvious he was doing *something*. But when someone politely asks you, Hey, what are you doing, you are usually obliged to say, I am doing blah--while you are doing blah. Doesn't take much coordination and concentration to operate your hands and mouth separately. But I felt like I was getting my head chewed on.
Later on, as we were sitting side by side on the bed putting on shoes, he commented on my bitching and moaning. I retorted that it had not been bitching, it had been a friendly, Hey, what are you up to? type deal. If I had wanted to bitch, I said, I would have been poking you as I said it.
Now here's what disturbs me. He said that he would just have to beat me to death with the frying pan [that was sitting next to the alarm clock]. It was a small lead pan and would hurt considerably if used as a blunt weapon. I said then he'd be in trouble because it would be messy and the room would start to smell funny (trying to go along with the joke). He replied, nah, because the first shot would have been to my throat and then he would have disposed of the body quietly and neatly.
I, trying to still maintain the levity of the increasingly disturbing conversation, pointed out a few holes in his theory. He said he wouldn't have been able to kill me anyway, because he didn't have a recording of my voice. Why would he have needed a recording of my voice, you ask? So that when my mother called asking for me, he could have a pre-recorded compiled message from me, explaining my disappearence: that I broke up with him, packed all my stuff, and went to the train station, where I ran into a fatal accident.
He said [of people like him and Watson, etc] that "Remember, it's called callous indifference to human life. We can have some very loving and caring moments, but we also hate humans."
Then he grinned, kissed me on the forehead lovingly, hugged me, and we went downstairs and outside to the car.
Now, as much as I was fully aware that he was only joking, a tiny part of me was highly freaked--essentially because of the willing ability of people like Adam and Watson to not only commit careful murder of anyone from strangers to loved ones, but to spontaneously concoct a seemingly well-thought-out plan that should have taken weeks, in the space of about two minutes. Watson did it to me too. It's really disturbing. I mean, I know the boys love me, but the idea that they could just as easily kill me makes me wonder if I shouldn't re-evaluate the way I look at life. (Especially after that one night at Ill Omen that I'm just not going to talk about and which Beth and Erin already know of and will NOT disclose to anyone). I know it's all in fun, honestly. But come on--who wouldn't be disturbed by that?
Later on, as we were sitting side by side on the bed putting on shoes, he commented on my bitching and moaning. I retorted that it had not been bitching, it had been a friendly, Hey, what are you up to? type deal. If I had wanted to bitch, I said, I would have been poking you as I said it.
Now here's what disturbs me. He said that he would just have to beat me to death with the frying pan [that was sitting next to the alarm clock]. It was a small lead pan and would hurt considerably if used as a blunt weapon. I said then he'd be in trouble because it would be messy and the room would start to smell funny (trying to go along with the joke). He replied, nah, because the first shot would have been to my throat and then he would have disposed of the body quietly and neatly.
I, trying to still maintain the levity of the increasingly disturbing conversation, pointed out a few holes in his theory. He said he wouldn't have been able to kill me anyway, because he didn't have a recording of my voice. Why would he have needed a recording of my voice, you ask? So that when my mother called asking for me, he could have a pre-recorded compiled message from me, explaining my disappearence: that I broke up with him, packed all my stuff, and went to the train station, where I ran into a fatal accident.
He said [of people like him and Watson, etc] that "Remember, it's called callous indifference to human life. We can have some very loving and caring moments, but we also hate humans."
Then he grinned, kissed me on the forehead lovingly, hugged me, and we went downstairs and outside to the car.
Now, as much as I was fully aware that he was only joking, a tiny part of me was highly freaked--essentially because of the willing ability of people like Adam and Watson to not only commit careful murder of anyone from strangers to loved ones, but to spontaneously concoct a seemingly well-thought-out plan that should have taken weeks, in the space of about two minutes. Watson did it to me too. It's really disturbing. I mean, I know the boys love me, but the idea that they could just as easily kill me makes me wonder if I shouldn't re-evaluate the way I look at life. (Especially after that one night at Ill Omen that I'm just not going to talk about and which Beth and Erin already know of and will NOT disclose to anyone). I know it's all in fun, honestly. But come on--who wouldn't be disturbed by that?
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Hmm...
Date: 2002-09-17 11:37 pm (UTC)1. Do as the Romans do, so to speak.
2. Ignore it.
3. Pay close attention for future reference & desensitize, desensitize, desensitize.
What makes ea.o/us diff.in this is how we'd ea.react in a verbal/physical/emotional come-to-blows situation. Some people ignore. Some people strike back. Some people wait 10 years, then feed a peat bog @ 2am.
In your case, may I suggest cyanide in the guacamole, a la Office Space?
Much love,
~Udgar T. Nefarious.
Re: Hmm...
Date: 2002-09-18 10:21 am (UTC)Erin, I think out of all the nutjobs outside my own lunatic significant something-or-other, I love you the best. You always know just what to do to make me laugh until I scream. (That's a good thing, right?)
Thank you. Your advice is always much appreciated.
::pauses::
Date: 2002-09-18 09:27 pm (UTC)Sirenfox: (notices a frightening object) GAAAAAAHHHH!!!
Random Man #1: What's wrong w/her?
Random Man #2: What?
Sirenfox: (still in full view o/frightening object) GAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!
Random Man #2: Oh, that. She always does that. That's her way of "laughing". I just told her a dead baby joke.
Random Man #1: Ah. Well it *was* pretty funny.
Sirenfox: (beginning to grow faint & hoarse, pointing madly) GAAAAAAHHH!...Gaaaahh!...gaa...(hack, wheeze)
~The Sock Monster.