Dao of Lisa: A Sorority Girl Obsessed with Serial Killers and Spree Killers!
Lisa:
Oh my GOD! I can’t believe Mia’s family is moving into the “Funeral Home!!” It’s like almost as awesome as the Amityville House. Maybe more because it’s so recent.
I read that ghosts hang around for a while, in the place they died, and as time goes on, the ghosts eventually pass, which is why you’ll probably never hear of or see ghosts of cavemen, prehistoric monkey men or whatever.
Picture that, coming home, and finding the ghost of a monkey man rubbing sticks together in your living room or driving in your car and seeing a caveman being chased down the street by a woolly mammoth.
I have, like, always been fascinated by the macabre. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been into horror movies.
Freddy Krueger was my fav. I know he was like totally icky, but something about those finger claws… They were hot! I’d see him in my dreams, but they wouldn’t be nightmares. I’d help him kill people or let him slash me with those claws, in a kinky, S&M way. Seriously, it was always an honor being murdered by Freddy…
Even since I started “like” liking boys, I’ve always been into the bad boys, the villains in movies.
It was when I was a teen that guys started trying to fuck me. I began to notice the looks, the eyes grazing my body. Or like the more casual, wandering glances from grown men, men walking down the street, hand in hand with their wife or girlfriend. Or the guy peering for a split second from another table at a restaurant, stealing a glance, then looking away fast, as if it never happened.
Oh, and the businessmen, with their suits and briefcases, old men even, wearing wedding bands. The perverts who’d walk by briskly, on the street, staring, eyes leaping from their skulls, fucking STARING at my tits…
It’s incredible how different my life became when I got “hot,” how differently people treated me and looked at me… How older women suddenly acted bitchy to me, instead of patting me on the head or pinching my face like they did before, or the men, acting awkwardly, leering, and smiling with their toothy, shit-eating grins…
I know some girls like that. But I’ve never liked the gawkers. I only appreciate the attention if it’s from a guy I like or one who’s cute. But random strangers on the street? No. Like they think I’m wearing these short shorts to attract their attention? No. I’m not. I’m wearing them because it’s a hot day.
Seriously, I must confess that the older I’ve gotten, the more I hate men. They lie, they smell gross. They sweat. Like, why do guys sweat so profusely? What’s up with that? I don’t know why, but I’ve always hated sweaty guys. I hate jocks, which is weird, too, because I’m a cheerleader.
I usually date misfits. I like guys with lots of tattoos, as long as they keep clean, have good hygiene, and don’t sweat too much. And don’t stink. There is nothing worse in this world than a guy who stinks. Body odor just repulses me. Yuck, the mere thought of it makes me want to… Ugh…
Okay, I know it’s unusual, but I like criminals. I love criminals, to be honest. Criminals are hot. But they have to be nice to me and not be stinky or dirty or rapey. I don’t like that. I don’t like the rapey ones. Oh, aside from Ted Bundy.
Aw, Ted was SO dreamy. He’s who got me into serial killers. I was about 12 and I watched a documentary on cable about Ted Bundy and I was hooked. I know he was rapey, but, for him, just for him, it’s okay. I’d totally have let Ted Bundy rape me. Not kill me, no. But rape me, yeah.
I have rape fantasies, okay, I admit, but only about HOT guys like Ted Bundy.
These days, there aren’t any cool serial killers anymore. I don’t know. I read somewhere that with technology, smartphones and cameras everywhere, GPS tracking, it’s harder to be an active serial killer. That’s too bad, I think. Serial killers are so cool, exciting, and fun. As much as I love horror movies, serial killers are way better because they’re real. Like anyone can kill in a movie, but kidnapping and murdering in real life, that takes talent, smarts, and courage.
It’s like how many people talk, saying, in their husky, tough-guy voice, how they’ll “kill such and such,” but they never ever do it… It takes guts to kill. That’s why serial killers fucking rock.
But there just aren’t any awesome serial killers nowadays. Contemporary murder trends are dominated by mass killers. At first, aside from the Columbine killers, I didn’t get into them. Most were just strange and creepy and I thought that it’s too easy to just walk into a store or school and shoot people.
But better ones have come along, cuter ones. Like James Holmes. After James Holmes, I started to follow mass killers more and have really taken a liking to them. There are creative, exciting mass killers out there. I’ve come to appreciate them more.
There are a few message boards I belong to, where we share info, pictures, videos of various killers, along with jail addresses to write letters to.
I’ve written to several incarcerated mass murderers and serial killers and am in correspondence with a couple. But most of them never write back. I understand and all. I’m sure they receive tons of fan mail…
I also belong to a couple “murderabilia” message boards and sites. Like, one guy on there bought the numbers, the metal numbers, from the door of Jeffrey Dahmer’s apartment. The real numbers from the real door! I was so jelly! I’m too broke to afford most of that sort of shit, but, as a Christmas gift to myself, I did buy a jailhouse letter written by Kip Kinkel.
Aw, he was a total cutie, when he was young, with his little chipmunk face…
I’m one of the few girls in the serial killer fan groups. To be honest, I list my gender as a male, on there, and don’t post any pictures of myself. I don’t want any of the guys there hitting on me. I can’t even begin to count how many dick pics I’ve been sent online.
Why do guys do that, anyway? Sending dick pics? Anytime I get a dick pic, I think of cutting it off, the dick. And how I’d do it, too, how I’d cut off that particular penis, depending on the dick’s size and look. Would I use garden sheers, a butcher knife, a steak knife, a power saw, hacksaw, chainsaw, battleax, a samurai sword, or cuticle cutters, haha! Oh, I never get bored thinking of creative ways to cut off a creepy dude’s cock…
Once I thought of roping a dick to a horse and letting the horse drag the dude off by his… Oh, I’ve had tons of ideas…
That really is one of my fantasies, to chop off a guy’s dick. I idolize Lorena Bobbitt. I saw the best YouTube doc about her… One day, I want to cut off a dick, just like her. I should write to her, shouldn’t I? See if she has any advice.
I have lots of murder fantasies. I have a fantasy, just a fantasy, not for real, like I’d never actually do it, so don’t fucking call the FBI, but, like, I have a fantasy of trapping and killing creepy guys. Creepy and stinky guys. Hairy guys too. Uh, I hate hairy guys.
Like, in my fantasy, I’d be a serial killer. An Aileen Wuornos style killer… She was so cool… I’d kill guys like she did. I’d kill gross, fucking pervy guys, like my father’s friend who tried to fuck me when I was in middle school. The scum. He’d be the first I’d kill if the fat fucker didn’t already drop dead from a heart attack.
Like, yeah, so here’s how I’d do it. I’d set up an online ad, lure them to a secluded area and kill them somehow. I don’t know exactly how. Maybe a gun with a silencer. Maybe a poison dart. Then I’d cut their fucking dick off. That’d be my thing. Every stinky, hairy guy I kill, I chop off his gross dick and stuff the bloody appendage in his mouth.
There aren’t any serial killers these days so I’d be the first in a while. I’d be famous!
These totally aren’t the thoughts a girl like me should be having. No one ever looks at me and thinks I’m a psycho. I guess that’s an advantage of being a 9 or 10. It’s easy for us to avoid psycho bitch detection.
Like that song, “Oh, she’s hot but a psycho…” That’s so totally me!
I am a psycho bitch. And I love to study crimes, read blogs about them, watch true crime videos on YouTube… I am so pumped to visit that house, the famous “Funeral Home!!” What better place to have a killing spree than a funeral home?! I’ve studied the crime meticulously. I know where each member of the family was when they were shot. I know where the crematorium was, where they brought the bodies. Going inside that house, to me, is like visiting Disneyworld.
Someday I want to take a trip around the country, around the world. I want to visit every single site of every famous mass killing. I want to visit sites of war crimes, serial killers’ homes, places like the site of Jeffrey Dahmer’s apartment. Oh, that’s totally at the top of my list. Jeffrey, okay, yes, I know he was gay, but I still think he was fucking hot. Gay guys always are so hot. And a gay serial killer? Oh my GOD, there totally is nothing that could be sexier than a gay serial killer…
I’ve already visited one location of a famous mass killing. I drove to a shopping mall, not that far away, where a kid shot and killed 7 people.
It was awesome, imagining each killing, standing in the very same spots. Secretly, I was pretending to be the shooter, seeing through his eyes. I was picturing the gun in my hand. The power of the moment. I traced his exact footsteps from where he entered the mall, to where he killed his victims, and then, finally, to the place where he shot himself. I even left a rose for him, in the spot, next to the food court, where he died, and I choked up a tad, thinking of him. Aw, he was sooooooooooooo cute… He had a young, sexy Richard Ramirez, Nightstalker vibe…
I was crazy giddy the whole time, in that mall. I was almost trembling with excitement, seeing what I’d seen in online pictures, those spots smeared in blood, with white sheets, police tape, and I was standing there, right there! I was there!
Now Mia is moving into the “Funeral Home!” THE FUNERAL HOME! I can’t believe it. It’s like winning the lottery. I can’t wait to post the pics to my murder IG…
