November 12, 2014
Dear Diary,
It has been two weeks since I decapitated my dog. The head is still in a garbage bag, but I have it out in the shed, so the smell isn't so bad. I threw the rest of the body out in the trash, and the garbage man took it away without noticing. I really don't miss Winston. He was a stupid dog, stupid to the point of being really fucking annoying. It was such an adrenaline rush to pin his head to the ground and cut it off with a hatchet. Sure, it was a mess with blood and guts everywhere, but I manage. I told Mom that Winston died of heart failure, which is hilarious, because 2 year old dogs don't have bad hearts. Suckers will be suckers.
I'm really excited, because I restocked my Fun Drawer. I contacted my local dealer and got some sedatives, cocaine, and weed. He tried to get me to buy heroine again, so I did. Fuck it, heroine is some good shit. Too bad I gotta get more needles…
Work was super boring again today, which is becoming the norm. My idiot boss was so busy checking me out, so I decided to mess with his puny brain a little. I walked by him and lifted my skirt just enough to show him my muffin top. It was pretty pathetic how he dropped his mouth and stared in disbelief. Oh, and I wasn't wearing underwear so I'm sure he got a good look at my ass. Maybe if I'm feeling it I will tap that old man and get a promotion. That would mean more money. And money, my dear diary, is the name of the game.
Diary, I must say, I am having those urges again. No, I'm not talking about my urges for sex, drugs or alcohol, I'm talking about "those" urges. I was in line at the grocery store today and almost pulled out my knife to stab the bitch in front of me. She didn't do anything to annoy me, but I really wanted to feel the knife penetrate her body over and over again. Then, I walked down the street, and saw a cat. Since those violent urges were too strong, I kicked the cat with all the force I could, and I think I broke it's rib cage. Either way, the cat flew like ten feet in the air and crashed to the ground. Hurting a cat isn't enough. I want to feel people's blood and guts in my hands. I want to watch the light leave their eyes as I put a bullet into their hearts. Hahahaha, oh my god, I'm having too much fun thinking about all this stuff. Seeing a grown man cry as I slaughter his child would be such a thrill rush.
Anyways, I think I'm going to throw myself at some moronic dudes tonight at the bar. I feel like having sex. I really don't care who they are, I'll just ride them till they burst. Maybe I can punch, slap, and scratch him and say that I'm into S and M shit. I'll go with the usual stuff: black short dress, matching black lace thong and bra, and my three inch heels. I'll bring my knife and hide it in my bra. I'm thinking I'll try and cut the poor bastard's dick off and say I got "carried away". Hahaha, god, I am hilarious.