_(10/12/2009) A few years ago I spent Memorial Day in the Madhouse. Upon entering the facility for observation, they asked me a series of questions to determine whether I should stay and for how long. Though several of my answers left me well below the “sane enough to be released to a family cook-out” mark, the one that got my shoelaces snatched away came when they asked if I'd ever considered killing anyone. "Why, of course. I've thought of dozens of creative and dramatic ways," I bragged, "And I know exactly where I'd hide the body."
They gasped. I tried to explain that, as a writer, it was part of my profession to imagine doing things that I would never actually do. And that as a good writer, I must imbue the murderous acts with as much detail as possible to give the reader a richer experience. They didn't buy it, and immediately locked me up until they could figure out just how big a threat I was to myself and others. After three long days, I regained my freedom.
So, how would I kill someone at this point if the opportunity arose…and it was, of course, in self-defense…and they were a total psychopath who really deserved it? It's a no brainer. I'd shoot them with a crossbow--an 80-pound mini crossbow that shoots 200 feet per second with pinpoint accuracy up to 40 yards, to be exact. I often imagine some heinous home invader breaking in only to find me sitting up in bed, grinning from ear to ear, with my faithful crossbow pointed straight toward him as he bursts through the door. He calls me “crazy bitch” and I shoot him in the neck with the razor sharp arrow that I have spray-painted pink and festooned with ribbons so it will look festive as it flies across the room and lodges in his neck. And, then we both laugh and laugh, until he bleeds to death on my bedroom floor.
Frustration by: Dorothy Parker
If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;
Or had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.
But I have no lethal weapon--
Thus does fate our pleasure step on
So they are still quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.
Addition by: Me
If you'd put a cross-bow in my hand,
I'd go all across the land
Putting arrows in the throat
Of all my enemies, then gloat.
(05/04/2012) Last week, two neighbors in Australia got in a heated dispute. They each stomped off to their respective homes and grabbed their weapons of choice. One returned wielding a Samurai sword. The other a chainsaw. At the end of the battle, one was missing all the fingers on his left hand. The other an arm. I am not sure which weapon caused which injury, but I am rethinking the crossbow. I think I may be better served by a Samurai sword.
the bourbonistA, Promoting Debauchery and stamping out political-correctness one blog at a time.