Sunday, February 15, 2015
I have spent the last ten days down with some kind of respiratory virus. I missed six days of work, and haven’t been able to do much more than sit on my couch and not speak. It’s a good thing I love watching TV, because that’s basically what I’ve been doing 24/7. Today, it finally got to me. I didn’t feel like having noise in my head. I sat on my couch and read a book (OK, still sitting but at least my brain was firing). It was a lovely day outside, cold but clear skies. I’m not sure where all the people were, but my street was very quiet. I totally enjoyed the serenity. Go figure. About an hour into my solitude, my house phone rang. I checked the Caller ID, and lo and behold, Jesus Christ was calling. No kidding... that’s what it said. I didn’t answer, maybe wanting to tempt fate and see if I’d get smote (Or is it smoted? Smited? Smitten?). I ran with the phone to where I had paper and pen and copied the phone number down before the ringing stopped. Wow, I had the cell number to the Son of God. How cool was that? I got on my laptop and Googled the phone number. It came back as coming from Van Nuys, CA. Jesus was calling from southern California. Was he a surfer, or perhaps a movie executive? Maybe he’s that guy in lederhosen running the Matterhorn ride at Disneyland. Hmmm. Comments online said these calls were a scam. Some had received a voicemail that said for only $250 you could hear the truth about Jesus. Is nothing free anymore??? I began to ponder whether I had received a scammy call or a divine one. Perhaps JC was disturbed that my TV was off and was just calling to check on my wellbeing. I suppose he could have been wondering why he hasn’t seen me around a church in oh, let me see, what day is this...40 years? Being a supreme being and all, I think he’s probably figured that one out. Perhaps he was calling for my husband, and not me after all. That makes more sense. I went back to my murder mystery and decided to let the other mystery slide.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
It’s three days before Valentine’s Day and there has, unfortunately, been a sad love-related announcement. Charles Manson, infamous serial killer and all-around nutball and his fiancé, Star, will not be marrying. What went wrong? They had so much in common. OK, there was a 54 year age difference. Also, Charles would NEVER be let out of prison and wouldn’t be allowed conjugal visits. But hey, they were both technically human beings. Technically. Star had been hanging out around the prison and nurturing her relationship with Charles since she was seventeen. Now it turns out her “love” was merely a long range money-making scheme. Star wanted to marry Charles Manson so she could take possession of his body when he dies. Then she and her friends were going to place the body on display in a glass coffin and charge admission. BINGO... instant fortune! This girl is seriously twisted, and therefore, a perfect match for Charlie. Perfect. I’ve always admired people with long range goals. It takes such determination and self control to stick with a plan. In the case of Star, though, my admiration just isn’t there. She is one scary biatch. Imagine being her parents. I wonder which thing makes them shudder more - the fact that their daughter wanted to marry a serial killer, or the crazy reason for her engagement. Did she have a lemonade stand as a child? Sell Girl Scout cookies? Maybe she is just acting out because she wasn’t encouraged as a child to earn money. Then again, I didn’t EVER sell stuff as a child, nor did I earn an allowance. I can’t remember the last serial killer I was engaged to. So much for that theory. Maybe bad, twisted people just come out that way. I think Cupid is off the hook for this one.