HDWGH – Story 50 – Bad Blood

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: It was definitely not just another ordinary day at The Curtis Dixon Elementary School. Deep within the hallowed school halls the second grade students collectively pointed at their teacher Priscilla Parsons and started screaming. Some children jumped around in place while others continued pointing with their mouths open as a steady stream of blood made its way down Ms. Parson’s lily white leg. Amy Addison peed her pants and started crying while Asoka Tanaka held up an empty Coke Zero can and pressed on it with his thumb in the hopes that it would turn him into Ultraman so he could save the day from whatever needed saving. Eddie Clooney panicked and pulled the fire alarm which in turn, scared him enough that he peed his pants as well.

**Before**: Priscilla Parsons was in a bit of a quandary this fine summer morning. She had to pick an outfit for her date with Terrance Luskin but she would have to wear it to school. The date was in dangerous proximity to when she finished her teaching duties for the day and so whatever she decided to wear to work would have to be the outfit she wore on her date with Terrance…or did he prefer to be called Terry? It was something she was hoping to find out this evening.
Daring wasn’t a word that typically graced her verbal catalogue. She was a proper southern lady after all. Today, she was feeling a little naughty. Her dress was long enough that she personally felt that she could get away without wearing the usual undergarments. Seriously, they would just get in the way later if the date went in the direction she was hoping for. Her monthly visitor wasn’t due for another week.

This was going to be the best day ever.

Time for…

…a theme change!

Unfortunately for me, I actually paid for the previous theme. It had a lot of bells and whistles but all I really want or need is simplicity.

I already forgot the name of this theme but that is ok. It rocks.

I love you whatever your name is.

HDWGH – Story 49 – Unexpected Lunch

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: Thelma Hopkins screamed at the top of her lungs as she let go of the leash. All that she could see of her beloved poodle Cuddles was his tail as it was sticking out of the alligator’s mouth.

**Before**: “What a beautiful morning!” Thelma Hopkins declared to her poodle and companion of 5 years. She cinched the leash to his collar and opened the front door of her townhouse. This morning she planned on taking her dog through one of the back alleys she had yet to explore. This small town had a few of them. Thelma had just moved here from New York City and the country life in a small Amish rich community felt more to her liking. The sound of horses walking on the Main Street made her feel giddy inside. This place was heaven.

Although there were plenty of signs telling her to do otherwise, Thelma approached the closed off alley and opened the gate. She really didn’t understand why this little side street would have a gate but it was no matter.

As Cuddles led the way down the small alley, a very deep groan could be heard and before Thelma has any time to react, an extremely large alligator jumped from the shadows and swallowed Cuddles almost whole. One of the signs that Thelma ignored hung at a weird angle in the entrance of the alley.

Beware of Pet Alligator. Enter at your Own Risk.

Great Quote

Why do hurricanes have names and not numbers? To keep the killing personal. – George Carlin

HDWGH – Story 48 – A New Beginning

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: Gerald Harvey couldn’t speak. So many things were going through his mind at this very moment. He was dying. He never thought that his day would go this way. Gerald dropped to his knees as the life force drained from his body. Blood was pouring through his fingers as he desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. It was no use. His wife Leslie just stood in front of him while she watched him die. Her face was expressionless. In his final thoughts, Gerald knew he took things too far. He could have sworn that she had a smile on her face as the blackness took him.

**Before**: The morning started like most other mornings for Gerald and Leslie Harvey. Gerald would wake up and head downstairs to start breakfast and make the morning coffee and Leslie would head into the bathroom to cover up the last night’s transgressions. Gerald left his mark on her almost every night. The marks were getting harder to cover up. Her co-workers at the gym would soon begin to figure out that these marks, these scars weren’t created from some stupid training accident. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what was going on, even to the casual observer. Her co-workers weren’t morons.

Leslie never knew what outfit to wear. Gerald wasn’t very consistent with what he liked and what he didn’t. She came downstairs. He screamed about being able to see her hard nipple and the fighting began. She couldn’t even have breakfast before all of his bullshit started.

His breath on her face as he screamed was turning her stomach upside down. Whether subconsciously or just plain blink luck, Leslie’s left hand was resting on a knife that had been sitting on the kitchen island where Gerald usually prepared their meals. She didn’t ponder on it. She didn’t make a detailed plan inside of her head. She just acted.

In the middle of a tirade that accused Leslie or showing her body to the entire world, Leslie plunged the knife into the side of Gerald’s neck. She could tell by the eruption of blood that she had hit the right place. She quickly pulled the knife out in case it helped the bastard in any way. She knew that sometimes you should leave a knife in until you can get the victim to a hospital. She had no intention of doing that.

She slowly backed away from Gerald as his neck shot blood all over the kitchen. It would take her a while to clean but it would be worth it. He was in shock and was remarkably quiet. Now all she had to do was figure out how to make it seem as though he left her. They would never find a body. She’d make sure of that.

1 Year Anniversary of Journaling

One year ago today I decided to start keeping a journal.

It has become something I am in throughout the day. It has evolved into a place where I keep everything important about that particular day.

I am so happy that I decided to do it and also stuck with it.

Yay me!

Aggressive Holiday

Am I the only one who plans a day off and packs it with more tasks than can be reasonably completed?

Probably not.

I feel like I am finally over the “VID” and am only now starting to get my energy back. Being Lethargic was a way of life for me for several weeks. I just didn’t really have the energy to do very much. It is a good thing I am a nudist so I didn’t have to worry about having the energy to get dressed. That was definitely not happening.

I have already knocked off a major project this morning.

Hopefully what this means for the blog is that I’ll be able to write again. I stopped when I got the “VID” and haven’t done much beyond writing in my journal. I can always seem to find the energy to write in that.

Hope everyone has a fantastic Friday!

Image Credit

Why I turned off Private Relay

Apple’s new feature that hides your IP address is an awesome concept. Using any map function and seeing the various places that your phone is reporting your location as…is cool.

What is NOT cool is the fact that private relay prevents websites from loading.

Not cool.

For me, a great example is Slashdot.

If I try to bring it up in my phone and can’t, it is almost always because private relay is turned on. I turn it off and the website loads as normal.

In Praise of Audiobooks

Great article in the Sunday paper about listening to audiobooks.

*Warning: Might be a paywall*

But that is a myopic view. Telling stories, after all, is an even older form of human entertainment than reading and writing stories. Banish any guilt you might harbor about listening instead of reading. Audiobooks are not to be feared; they do not portend the death of literature on the altar of modern convenience. Their popularity is a sign, rather, of the endurance of stories and of storytelling.