“The Monster I Am” Aka “Pineapples on Pizza”


I’m crazy.

Let’s just start with getting that one out of the way.

I – Am – Crazy.

Nuts. Weird. An oddball. There’s just something wrong with me.

You see…

I like pineapples on pizza.

I know. Horrible, isn’t it? It’s one of those things where I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t help myself. I mean, some people like necrophilia. Other people fuck farm animals. And I… I like pineapples on pizza.

Forgive me.

It’s just so delicious. The juiciness and the freshness of the pineapple that keeps the meat and white bread from becoming cloying. It’s the perfect condiment. I can just feel myself starting to drool as I write this post.

I suppose I could stop myself from eating it. Just because I can’t control my liking it, doesn’t mean I can’t control my actually eating it. There are countless of recovering alcoholics out there, and if they can do it, surely, I can as well.

I just don’t want to.

Perhaps I’m weak.

Perhaps I should be ashamed.

And perhaps… perhaps it’s just some freaking pineapple on a freaking pizza?

So… why care?

Let the people have their pineapples.

We’re not forcing you to eat it.

That’s step two.

Santa Clarita Diet – The Dark Comedy

A/N: Spoiler Alert


Let me start out by saying that I don’t get horror.

Why would you pay someone to scare you? Why spend your (more or less) hard-earned pay-check to be utterly disgusted by what’s in front of you?

If you’re like me, you might even close your eyes, and now you’re effectively paying money for looking at the inside of your own eyelid. Crazy, right? I don’t care for blood. I don’t care for gore. I don’t care for cannibalism, or being grossed out, or men and women being made into a human centipede. Ugh.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know that a lot of people adore horror. Otherwise, the statement on Stephen King’s bank account would have looked a lot different. Horror just isn’t for me. At least not when it’s found on the screen.

And yet I love Santa Clarita Diet. Why? I mean it’s got blood, it’s got gore, it’s got cannibalism. Hell, it’s even got a severed, talking head.

So why do I love it?

Continue reading “Santa Clarita Diet – The Dark Comedy”

Witch Burn

“Let’s celebrate that we don’t burn women anymore.”

“Sure. How should we do that?”

“Let’s burn a woman.”

“What?! No! That’s a horrible way.”

“Oh. Okay. Then let’s burn a doll.”


A/N: Another odd, Danish tradition. 

Writing Goals


I tried a chapter,

And I quickly gave up.

So I went for a page

… still couldn’t back it up.

 

Perhaps a paragraph

Is the way to go?

I quickly discover

That the answer is no.

 

But a single sentence.

Success! (if but small).

And a little is far more

Than nothing at all.