“The Art of Cold Blooded Murder,” by DJ LPB
Whatever happened to my ability to snatch at people? I used to be so good at it. 2 words and I could make Anyone cry. Now I just apologize for feeling that way. Fricken’ wuss!? When did I start giving a fuck? In boarding school I Got Paid for making someone’s ex cry. I felt great about it, too. After I left that place I figured I might want to watch my mouth a little more, but I still had the words ready for whenever someone found it nescessary to pick a fight or call me a girl Again (long hair).
Now I couldn’t tell someone to fuck off without having to think for words, in which time I’m already verbally buttfucked, of course. I wouldn’t, neither, I’d just say I’m sorry for wanting you prisonraped and dead. And Actually Feeling Bad About It.
I think it’s just part of growing up? When I hear "adults" argue I figure I won’t have much competition anyway. Discussions that have no point and fallacies as arguments. Ah fuck ’em.
You won’t hear me say this about anything before careful consideration and deep thought, but mosquitos, are hellspawn. And they should all die. Every. Single. One. No creature, not even humans, are so annoying, so utterly amazingly irritating. Those unnescessarily loud horseflies come close, those rabient (is that even the right word?) rottweilers on steroids at the end of my street that find it nescessary to greet me every time I get home come even closer, but mosquitos top it off.
The good thing about that however, is that our bathroom is full of ’em. They never get the time to sting (when it’s warm, they can’t sense you as clearly and wait until you relax and your body temperature starts to rise) and I get to smash a few of those little bastards every time I use the can. Great stress reliever.
Another good part about ’em is their predictability. There are no warm rooms at night in nature so they always get confused and make the same stupid mistakes again. I learned this in boarding school where my little room was officially declared a battleground of good vs evil. First of all, they always wait until you calm down. Your breathing slows, and your body temperature rises, so they can clearly sense you. They can hardly see, only bright lights. I read somewhere that has something to do with the moon. Instead, they sense body heat. That explains why they start moving in once you’re almost asleep, that sweet, warm cozy place of thoughts running wild like little bambi deers frolicing over plains, all shades of green white and brown. The knowledge that you are safe in your warm little bed, covering you like an additional blanket. THAT is when they move in. The little shits.
In boarding school, I was prepared for this. I stayed awake, concentrating to hear the high-pitched buzzing of mosquitos unaware that they are flying for a last time. When you hear/feel them land, scare them off and wait some more. You want to lure them all out. Then, gently get up. No need to do it super slow, mosquitos will Always sit on a wall within one cubic meter of the heat source. Simply turn on the light et voila, you have them all lined up for you to murder in cold blood. I prefer doing it by hand, because then you can feel them break under your palm, and if you listen closely, you can hear them scream. So.. Sweet. Also, it’s not always easy to confirm the kill if you do it with something else. Some dumbass did it with his pillow. The one he slept on.
When squashing a mosquito, Do Not rush towards them in anger and crash your hand someplace near where ever they were sitting. They Will escape and you just lost yourself 30 more minutes of sleep.
The art of killing… is a zen religion. Attacking is anger is worse than not attacking at all. You must concentrate on your chi, your essence. Hold out your hand, ready to strike, 30 centimeters from your target, at most. Concentrate on your hand. Keep in mind, speed is essential. Speed. Clarity of mind. Concentrate on speed. You are the praying mantis, locked on and frozen before the lethal strike. From my experience I can say counting down is a bad idea. It will make you twitch before striking, and any martial artist or professional killer will agree that this must be avoided at all cost. You will start slowly, moving towards your prey, and speed up. That is not the way. You must be at full speed within the first millimeter. Don’t set a time to strike, feel when you are ready and strike that instant.
Force is not important, most of the time a mere touch is enough, and besides, it will keep your victim (with possibly your blood) from being smeared all over the wall, and you will wake other interns when you bash the wall like that. And, the wall might vibrate, sending the other mosquitos off. If you have had little training, however, brought tissue to clean up (gotta have that in your lonely little room), and have no other interns to worry about, sure, smash ahead. It feels good, especially accompanied by a cthulu-like battle cry and accompanying "YES! YOU FUTILE, INFERIOR BEINGS! FEEL MY WRATH!" but again, keep other interns in mind.
And that, young grasshopper, is how you kill a mosquito. You might think I was kidding most of the time but actually I am surprisingly serious. I hate them, and I take pleasure in killing them. I specialised myself in it, and now I’m working on catching them in mid air, which is not as difficult as it sounds. The trick is to do it right the first time, they’re set to "scan" mode and not alarmed, and they will fly slowly. Although this whole zen crap doesn’t sound like anything, try and keep it in mind. This concentration thing also works with opening a jar or something: just focus on your hand, take deep, slow breaths, and you’ll be able to use much more force. Chi science for all kitchen purposes, yay. Tomorrow: pressure points in the bedroom. The options are endless.
I’m not a bad guy. I mean well. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but… okay. But, sometimes, I can be a regular self-centered asshole. Not on purpose, but it’s enough to hate myself to near death for a couple days. Principles, ethics, they all fly out the window, and what is left is pure egocentrism. I’m what matters and what I want must be done. And when you wake up the next morning and realise what you have done the day before, the only way to get up is to swear on your butt naked soul that you’ll never make the same mistake again. Of course, there will be other mistakes to make, but it’s a system of deduction. By the time I’m 560 years old I’ll be perfect. Until then, I’ll remember the mistakes I made, the people I hurt, and hate myself for it.
From this day on, I shall be known as DJ Little Pink Bunny. Or DJ Vermin. I haven’t decided yet. Believe it or not, I’m planning to throw a party. At practically every party I go to I look at the DJ and think "oh but I can do better." So now it’s time to prove it: I’ll be playing. 2 turn tables and a microphone, yo. No playing the same song twice in one night, no fucking ‘make a train and act like a retard’ Plop theme songs. No Kung Fu fighting, no ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ (I detest kids that make fun of Elvis fans and turn around and worship Kurt Cobain. HE’S DEAD!), no sticking to a genre that obviously scares folks away from the dance floor. My party, My style, My music. Unlike some seem to think I have a very broad music interest. I like good techno, drum ‘n bass, hardcore, hell even jazz.
I found a place to rent and the soonest date available is october 14th, that should give me some time to prepare. It’s more or less against my principles but if you want to have Some diversity in music you’ll end up spending zillions on music albums, so for the next few weeks it seems like I’ll be pirating like never before. Too bad they don’t have an mp3 player of any sort there, then I could queue a few songs and hop on the dancefloor, myself. I guess I’ll have to switch places with someone for a few songs.
I have no idea what to expect. Not the slightest. I hope it turns out well. If it does, I might do it more often.