Saturday, January 7, 2012

Whats a day off in the life of a Psycho like?

Have you ever wondered how the average day plays out for a psycho? Average meaning the majority of the days where no killing, stalking or creapy ass oogling is taking place. We all have read the news, seen the movies, been the victims (most likely not reading this right now) or actually are the lunatic psychopaths. There's the craziness of showing up at pretty much every sorority where the girls are in the middle of a strip yatzee game. There's the absolute madness and quite frankly the most absurd tactic of waiting for us in our dreams. For goodness sake, are you kidding me? After the day I had I finally get some shut eye and there's a frickin burnt idiot in my dreams chasing me around all night trying to kill me. Then after all that I gotta get up and go to work?!? So we pretty much get the point what the psychos do when playing the part. Let's instead focus on what these skin suit making weirdos do on thier days off. Most likely the day starts off with the alarm going off. Not the cool smart phone alarms or even digital for that matter. This one is the off white colored square one that you or your parents had when you were a kid. The one with the clock face, the one tiny snooze button on the top and the stubby red alarm setting hand that hung out behind the hour, minute and second hand. The one that was impossible to set to go off at the exact time you wanted it to. You usually got a ten to twelve minute window. Anyway, the psycho is awake. Time for breakfast. You would think, to keep up their bad ass or 'I'm always crazy man' attitude, would have them eating pig skulls or garden bugs. But I believe it's more like a bowl of Lucky Charms. I mean how better to get you pissed off enough to go out murdering in creative and brutal ways than to pay $4.75 a box and only 1/39ths of your cereal are the marshmallow shapes you actually like to eat. Picking them out of that useless blah tasting cereal filler will make even the gentlest of us ornery. Then it's off to work. The halfway normal looking psychos probably have jobs that they can skate through on. Like adult paperboys, statisticians or work at a candy factory like our old pal Jeffrey Dahmer. But some of those big nasty type ones like Jason or Leatherface most likely find and return cans and bottles or have to scrap metal. This way they can get cash to survive and kind of blend in a bit better with local crackheads, scrappers and ladies of the night that have trouble staying up late enough to make money. Unfortunately they can't just pick the pockets of the people they kill, since then it would just be written off as a robbery murder and tarnish the fact that the person's ears were found in one of those supermarket claw machines. To help pass the days a little faster I'm positive they go back home and watch a little Dr. Phil and mumble to themselves (in a low garbled Dennis Hopper voice), "Dr. Phil can't you see that Ted Williams can't be saved? You crazy fool! I'll teach you for giving that can stealing bastard free rehab over and over and over....." One of the mandatory moments of the psycho's day is to stare into the mirror applying way too much lipstick while wearing a feathery boa. This I am positive they teach in psycho 101 class. It just adds to the mystique and guarantees that they qualify for some sort of public assistance when they get too old to be 'psycho killing' on a regular basis. Another must for the average psyco's day off is computer chat rooms. It helps them to socialize without the need to kill, like the sharks from Finding Nemo. They are the ones who's spellings really messed up since most of them have mangled fingers from a sloppy murder or the last teenager at a summer camp. There's a new golden rule for these freaks of nature. 'Never ever go after the last surviver of a sorority, camp or dance studio mass killing spree. They always fight you back and in some cases temporarily kill you back too.' "Take that you psychopathic monster" as they stab them in the eye with a PF Chang chop stick for killing all of thier fellow classmates. The night probably ends with a cappuccino and the Bachelor on the dvr. Always thinking about what could have been if they took the other path in life. Nighty night Mr. Psycho. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs (in the dingy rented room where, although you wear a 'skin' dress and a hockey mask year round, the landlord doesn't care as long as the rent money isn't late) bite.


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