Now, I mean, I am the last person on earth to play blame-the-victim games, and it's at least probable that these women did not actually want to be murdered. But, you know, I have to believe that if a guy calls himself the Slavemaster and talks extensively about how he's going to abuse and humiliate you, and then tells you to come to his house and bring all your money and not tell anyone you're coming, it would be smart to think there's at least a slight possibility that he's a mentally unstable killer. You know?
Goodness knows the ways of S&M are a mystery to me, and hopefully will remain so for the rest of my days, but for real! All those women went to Kansas, innocent in their childlike naivete, wanting nothing more than to be tied up, beaten, burned with cigarettes, shit on, and choked into unconsciousness with a leather strap by a person they met via an internet personal ad. Like little angels, really, pure as the driven snow, like precious children accepting sweet candy. And instead they end up with some NUT! Next thing you know, instead of passing a pleasant evening having their nipples seared with a soldering gun by a maniacal stranger, they're dead inside a barrel.
In other news, the Germans are complaining that the Euro press are using to many Nazi references while covering their national soccer team. That's the kind of abuse you have to put up with for accidentally starting two lousy little world wars.
I have taken the day off to update my iPod. That's what a fucking geek I am, that I'm actually burning a goddamn vacation day to stay home and transfer songs onto my hard drive. Hopefully I'll also get some work done on the crappy novel (I'm thinking of changing the way I describe it from crappy to cruddy. Or crummy. Or any derogatory term starting with "cr", except "crungly", which is inaccurate and not a real word.), and otherwise have no life to speak of, although I may have some exciting conversations with the little plastic toys on my bookshelf. They understand me and don't judge me or withhold their love from me, not like that stuck up bitch of a blow up doll.