The quest for stationary murder continues. It’s been mostly a lot of blunt force with heavy objects like staplers or stacks of paper or a cabinet. I have been enjoying the industrial strength paper slicer. For slicing things. Like fingers. And throats - that takes a little finagling. I have tried to electrocute someone in the computer room but I am just not that good with physical computers. I’m not that good with software either but at least I kind of know how things work. Maybe I should ask Jason. I know he wants to stay out of the family business but he can help me learn more about computers, right? It is his major after all.
He’s been doing really well lately. I’m happy. I’ll always worry about him but right now, I don’t have to actively think about worrying about him. I can just... worry normally.
Speaking of normal worrying. You would not believe who called me the other day.
George Clooney.
See, I told you you wouldn’t believe me. That’s because I’m lying.
It was my sister.
Equally as unbelievable.
Father hasn’t been doing well lately - normal old age things - and we’re at the point where we’re discussing moving him into a place with 24 hour care. By “we” I mean my sister and me. If that is the conclusion we come to, mom doesn’t get a say. She gets a choice: to move with him or stay at home.
When I say it like that it sounds harsh but you know my parents. Neither of them would ever admit defeat. They would never admit that they need help. But it’s gotten to a point where my sister and I are actually cooperating on something. I would rather see my father miserably in assisted living than wandering the streets because mom was downstairs and he forgot where he was for a bit.
Did you know he taught me how to kill? Of course I don’t think that was his intention but lessons were very helpful.
He’s been a military man all his life. Even after he retired. Strict and disciplined, a little over-patriotic, and fairly liberal with all manner of available weapon - not just firearms. In fact he was fairly against guns and preferred to use his body as his weapon. Why shoot a man when you can punch him in the face so he knows who’s dealing the blow. He was a traditional man with two gorgeous daughters - according to my sister - so of course, he taught us how to fight. We grew up using knives, and clubs, and fists. When it came time for my first kill, I knew exactly what to do.
Thanks to him, I knew how to defend myself against an attacker and use those same tactics against my victims. For better or worse, my parents taught me how to kill. I got my mother’s ruthlessness and my father’s instincts. So did my sister.
It’s hard seeing your parents get old but it’s something everyone has to face at some point.
Unless, of course, you kill them first.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
He’s been doing really well lately. I’m happy. I’ll always worry about him but right now, I don’t have to actively think about worrying about him. I can just... worry normally.
Speaking of normal worrying. You would not believe who called me the other day.
George Clooney.
See, I told you you wouldn’t believe me. That’s because I’m lying.
It was my sister.
Equally as unbelievable.
Father hasn’t been doing well lately - normal old age things - and we’re at the point where we’re discussing moving him into a place with 24 hour care. By “we” I mean my sister and me. If that is the conclusion we come to, mom doesn’t get a say. She gets a choice: to move with him or stay at home.
When I say it like that it sounds harsh but you know my parents. Neither of them would ever admit defeat. They would never admit that they need help. But it’s gotten to a point where my sister and I are actually cooperating on something. I would rather see my father miserably in assisted living than wandering the streets because mom was downstairs and he forgot where he was for a bit.
Did you know he taught me how to kill? Of course I don’t think that was his intention but lessons were very helpful.
He’s been a military man all his life. Even after he retired. Strict and disciplined, a little over-patriotic, and fairly liberal with all manner of available weapon - not just firearms. In fact he was fairly against guns and preferred to use his body as his weapon. Why shoot a man when you can punch him in the face so he knows who’s dealing the blow. He was a traditional man with two gorgeous daughters - according to my sister - so of course, he taught us how to fight. We grew up using knives, and clubs, and fists. When it came time for my first kill, I knew exactly what to do.
Thanks to him, I knew how to defend myself against an attacker and use those same tactics against my victims. For better or worse, my parents taught me how to kill. I got my mother’s ruthlessness and my father’s instincts. So did my sister.
It’s hard seeing your parents get old but it’s something everyone has to face at some point.
Unless, of course, you kill them first.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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