Showing posts with label Jeffrey Dahmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeffrey Dahmer. Show all posts
Sunday, August 9, 2026
Thursday, June 22, 2017
Laughing Devil
CHORUS
He sits there and laughs all day
He sits there and laughs all day
He reminds you of the devil anyway
‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day
VERSE 1
Tickling in his brain until he goes insane
Until his ribs are in tremendous pain
What the fuck is going on in his mind?
Is this the answer you really want to find?
Torture and violence, the comedy of choice
Death jokes will unleash the chuckling noise
The hyena demon laughs about his semen
He plants the seeds just in time for the season
CHORUS
He sits there and laughs all day
He sits there and laughs all day
He reminds you of the devil anyway
‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day
VERSE 2
Carlin has nothing on the demons from hell
Maher has nothing on the jokes they tell
Noah never went to the darkest places
Never put slasher smiles on their faces
This kind of humor should never be public
But there’s always one who says, “Fuck it!”
He sits there and laughs all fucking day
There’s something funny about unholy decay
BRIDGE
Laugh like Nelson from The Simpsons
Like a coyote hunting down a chicken
Like a serial killer in an erotic thriller
A cartel gangster carving up a prankster
EXTENDED CHORUS
He sits there and laughs all day
He sits there and laughs all day
He reminds you of the devil anyway
‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day
Lock his ass up in the darkest corner
Far beyond this nation’s borders
Far beyond this solar system
Only Dahmer has ever missed him
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
The Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club
TEAM NAME: The Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club
CANON: Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer
NAME: Otis Norman
AGE: 30
OCCUPATION: Unemployed
NAME: Courtney Robyn
AGE: 28
OCCUPATION: Unemployed
There once was a time during the life of Garrison’s Library that I would blog about weird dreams I had. My blog was a place for creative fuel of all kinds, dreams being no exception. The reason I don’t do it anymore is because those small bursts of creative fuel usually don’t lead anywhere. They’re just a sequence of weird events that have no application to real life. And thus, we have a short story called Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer, where a psychopathic couple go on a rampage in the name of the same serial killer they worship so much. It was a short story so nonsensical that it was eventually dumped when I had to choose stories to publish in American Darkness.
Close your eyes and let me paint a picture for you of the two sole members of the Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club. If at any time you feel like you’re having an acid trip, you probably are and you should call 911, if not for yourself, then for Otis and Courtney. The two of them are unemployed, broke, and about to get kicked out of their poorly kept apartment. So what do they do about their economic situation? They start off by sneaking into an old man’s neighboring apartment and stealing clothes that would make Otis look like Jeffrey Dahmer: a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and a fedora. Whether or not Jeffrey Dahmer actually wore those things is something that boggles my mind to this day.
Otis and Courtney hold hands together and skip down the stairs and toward their car like a couple in love. Not that two serial killer worshipers know anything about love, but who’s keeping score here? They get in their car and speed away before their landlord has a chance to harass them about rent money. During this million mile per hour chase down the streets and on the freeway, they cause so many accidents that they could be accused of committing genocide. That’s a lot of dead bodies and not enough morgues and graveyards to fill them. The cops couldn’t pull the couple over because the police too were involved in these horrendous and lethal accidents.
The reckless driving and the psychotic laughter was all for the purpose of going to the airport and sneaking on an airline flight to Moscow, Russia. Why are they going to Russia? To celebrate Halloween, of course. I know Russia is a mostly conservative country, so they probably don’t take Halloween as seriously as they would in, say, New Orleans. I’m not sure, because I didn’t research this, which is another mistake I made when writing Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer.
By the time Otis and Courtney hit the streets of Moscow, prostitutes and partygoers were hitting on Otis because of his Jeffrey Dahmer clothing. There was even a swarm of women who pulled him inside a nightclub while leaving a jealous Courtney out on the streets to freeze to death. She was so bitter and angry that she engaged in revenge sex with an entire hockey team. Otis found out what his girlfriend was doing, so he vomited his teeth into a garbage can. The story ended with Courtney sarcastically wishing her now ex-boyfriend a Happy Halloween.
Now do you know why Otis Norman and Courtney Robyn are unemployed? It’s not because I don’t have a use for psychotic characters. It’s because the story they were a part of didn’t make a goddamn lick of sense. Of course, nobody told me that I could have merely manipulated the details of my dream to fit a traditional narrative style. Imagine that: I can actually embellish details of my dreams! Who would’ve thunk it? But I’d better be careful, because the same people who sabotaged James Frey could sabotage me for being a big fucking liar! Cue the eye rolls.
The choice of clothing for Otis is also something I’d like to carry on should I use him or Courtney again. The Hawaiian shirt and fedora look is something currently being used by WWE wrestler Bray Wyatt, who coincidentally enough has the gimmick of a backwoods cult master. Does Otis Norman have what it takes to be a cultist? Absolutely. He’s the president of the Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club, for shit’s sake. For all we know, Courtney Robyn could be his deacon. Or his altar girl, depending on how sick he can actually be. With so much potential surrounding a creepy cultist gimmick, it won’t be long before Otis and Courtney find work again. Hell, I already wrote a short poem about them. But they can do more. They certainly can do more.
***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***
(RE: Paige licking her face.)
“You don’t have to sexually harass me in order to have a good match with me!”
-Natalya from “Total Divas”-
CANON: Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer
NAME: Otis Norman
AGE: 30
OCCUPATION: Unemployed
NAME: Courtney Robyn
AGE: 28
OCCUPATION: Unemployed
There once was a time during the life of Garrison’s Library that I would blog about weird dreams I had. My blog was a place for creative fuel of all kinds, dreams being no exception. The reason I don’t do it anymore is because those small bursts of creative fuel usually don’t lead anywhere. They’re just a sequence of weird events that have no application to real life. And thus, we have a short story called Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer, where a psychopathic couple go on a rampage in the name of the same serial killer they worship so much. It was a short story so nonsensical that it was eventually dumped when I had to choose stories to publish in American Darkness.
Close your eyes and let me paint a picture for you of the two sole members of the Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club. If at any time you feel like you’re having an acid trip, you probably are and you should call 911, if not for yourself, then for Otis and Courtney. The two of them are unemployed, broke, and about to get kicked out of their poorly kept apartment. So what do they do about their economic situation? They start off by sneaking into an old man’s neighboring apartment and stealing clothes that would make Otis look like Jeffrey Dahmer: a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and a fedora. Whether or not Jeffrey Dahmer actually wore those things is something that boggles my mind to this day.
Otis and Courtney hold hands together and skip down the stairs and toward their car like a couple in love. Not that two serial killer worshipers know anything about love, but who’s keeping score here? They get in their car and speed away before their landlord has a chance to harass them about rent money. During this million mile per hour chase down the streets and on the freeway, they cause so many accidents that they could be accused of committing genocide. That’s a lot of dead bodies and not enough morgues and graveyards to fill them. The cops couldn’t pull the couple over because the police too were involved in these horrendous and lethal accidents.
The reckless driving and the psychotic laughter was all for the purpose of going to the airport and sneaking on an airline flight to Moscow, Russia. Why are they going to Russia? To celebrate Halloween, of course. I know Russia is a mostly conservative country, so they probably don’t take Halloween as seriously as they would in, say, New Orleans. I’m not sure, because I didn’t research this, which is another mistake I made when writing Ode to Jeffrey Dahmer.
By the time Otis and Courtney hit the streets of Moscow, prostitutes and partygoers were hitting on Otis because of his Jeffrey Dahmer clothing. There was even a swarm of women who pulled him inside a nightclub while leaving a jealous Courtney out on the streets to freeze to death. She was so bitter and angry that she engaged in revenge sex with an entire hockey team. Otis found out what his girlfriend was doing, so he vomited his teeth into a garbage can. The story ended with Courtney sarcastically wishing her now ex-boyfriend a Happy Halloween.
Now do you know why Otis Norman and Courtney Robyn are unemployed? It’s not because I don’t have a use for psychotic characters. It’s because the story they were a part of didn’t make a goddamn lick of sense. Of course, nobody told me that I could have merely manipulated the details of my dream to fit a traditional narrative style. Imagine that: I can actually embellish details of my dreams! Who would’ve thunk it? But I’d better be careful, because the same people who sabotaged James Frey could sabotage me for being a big fucking liar! Cue the eye rolls.
The choice of clothing for Otis is also something I’d like to carry on should I use him or Courtney again. The Hawaiian shirt and fedora look is something currently being used by WWE wrestler Bray Wyatt, who coincidentally enough has the gimmick of a backwoods cult master. Does Otis Norman have what it takes to be a cultist? Absolutely. He’s the president of the Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club, for shit’s sake. For all we know, Courtney Robyn could be his deacon. Or his altar girl, depending on how sick he can actually be. With so much potential surrounding a creepy cultist gimmick, it won’t be long before Otis and Courtney find work again. Hell, I already wrote a short poem about them. But they can do more. They certainly can do more.
***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***
(RE: Paige licking her face.)
“You don’t have to sexually harass me in order to have a good match with me!”
-Natalya from “Total Divas”-
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Two-Sentence Horror Stories
Susan’s alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and she was slowly sitting up in her comfy beddy-bye. When her eyes finally adjusted to the glaring sunlight, she saw the Burger King mascot sitting next to her in bed where her ten-year-old daughter normally was.
Little Maria was playing in the sandbox by herself with her lovable stuffed rabbit and her Winnie the Pooh Pillow Pet. The shadow of a perverted old man in a trench coat appeared over her as he whispered the words, “I can’t wait until you turn 18!”
Stephanie McMahon’s relentless slaps across The Big Show’s face were stinging with orange hot pain. Big Show retaliated by clutching Stephanie’s throat, not to give her his patented choke slam, but to shove a date rape drug down her throat.
Mario ran as fast as his chubby body would carry him as he pilfered the golden key from the evilly grinning Phanto. The sinister mask finally caught up to him and with one monstrous chomp bit Mario’s ear off like Mike Tyson.
The baldheaded and bloodthirsty Calcobrena puppets came to life and started dancing like they were performing in the world’s scariest ballet. The urine stain in Cecil’s pants was so damp that he would need a Sham Wow to soak up the stale fluids.
Rosa curled in the corner and shivered as the disgusting and perverted Dr. Lugae slowly approached her. He leaned his disfigured face close to her tear-soaked face and said, “Are you wearing a Milk Duds bra?”
Wanderlei Silva was flipping through the pages of the ultra-sexy Ronda Rousey’s ESPN photo shoot magazine with Matt Brown looking over his shoulder. Wanderlei said, “Ronda sure looks good.” and Matt Brown replied with, “Tastes good too, bro!”
Tarja Turunen received her 501st letter and it revealed a picture of her naked and butchered husband Marcelo Cabuli bound with chains and ball gagged. Below the picture were the words written in Floydian font: “Leave him for me…or else!”
G-Switch had been stripped naked and sprayed with a cold hose as his prison cell awaited him for what would be a life sentence. When it came time to give him his uniform, he didn’t get an orange jumpsuit, but a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit instead.
The frightened and defenseless Tina huddled in the dark corner while her attacker slowly approached her with a club in his hand. The lights flickered on to reveal the assailant as Drew Carey in a black banana hammock, who went on to say, “Welcome to Who’s Life Is It Anyway, where everything’s made up and the points are as useless as your cries for help!”
Todd knelt and sobbed over the bloody remains of his butchered wife. The torturer put a hand on the poor husband’s shoulder and gave him some good news: “I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.”
Gail was called into the massage therapist’s office for what was sure to be a relaxing and joyful experience. That all changed when she found out her massage therapist was Jeffrey Dahmer, who just got off of his “lunch break” and was back on the clock.
Charles had just devoured a delicious Chinese meal of fried sole, egg drop soup, and creamed broccoli. When he opened his fortune cookie, the little strip of paper read, “Thank you for eating at Hannibal Lector’s Golden Grill.”
Dave had just been served a scrumptious plate of Chinese fried rice and pork chow mein by the lovely smiling waitress. When he asked for a fork, however, the waitress pulled one out of her apron and stabbed him in the hand repeatedly until the metal utensil went all the way through.
Staci was tied to the street post with sharp steel chains and gagged with a horse mask. The only people who would come to her rescue were religious protestors who were holding up rainbow-colored signs that said, “God hates gags.”
With a dirty old man in lingerie chasing her across the parking garage, Elizabeth tripped over her high heeled shoes and lost one of them in the process. When the old man got close enough, he went after the shoe instead and took a huge sniff of the fetishized footwear.
Ronald McDonald approached the checkout isle of the grocery store with a basket full of goodies. Among the items purchased in unison were a bottle of lotion, a box of tissues, and a copy of Teen Cosmopolitan magazine.
Terrance approached the speaker box at Wendy’s and placed the following order: “I’d like a bowl of chili with a finger in it, a double bacon cheeseburger with human jerky, and an unsweetened iced tea with a woman’s big toe floating near the top.” Without missing a beat, the clerk on the other end of the speaker said, “If everything on the screen is correct, that’ll be $8.99 at the first window.”
Jerry and Sonya stripped each other of their clothing for a night of intimate romance. To get the lovemaking started, Jerry said in an African accent, “I am the captain now!”
Jeremiah was busy in the barn milking the cow when Uncle Zeb entered with a disgusted look on his face and said, “That’s a bull, son.” Jeremiah smiled at the farm master and said, “I knew that.”
A hefty mall cop entered Victoria’s Secret looking for a man named Victor Timothy. When the sexy brunette clerk shortened the two given names and put them together, it became painfully clear to her what the mall cop was really looking for.
The photo shoot for the No H8 campaign required that the celebrities in question, Daniel Bryan and Brie Bella, put duct tape on their mouths as a form of protest against bullying. When all the needed pictures were taken, the photographer then produced two more “protest props”: a black leather gimp hood and a red rubber ball gag.
William took a bite of cherry pie and thought it was so delicious that he needed to know the ingredients. Jenny leaned her face seductively into his and listed the ingredients as rhubarb, chocolate-covered cherries, cane sugar, orange juice, and finally…the minced remains of William’s mother.
The charismatic spokesman for Metro PCS bounced a purple metal ball around with the message that phone service was only $40, period. After he continually drove home the point of “period power”, he was brutally run over by a semi-truck delivering Kotex products.
Thomas took a swig of chocolate milk and immediately had the urge to vomit himself inside out. When he looked at the milk jug, not only did the expiration date say January 2nd, 1904, but the brand name was “Honey Bucket”.
Richard was told that a Playboy Bunny was waiting for him at the Motel 6 for a night of “sensual action”. When he opened the door, he got an entirely different kind of bunny: a 300 lb. mountain man in a Bugs Bunny outfit wielding a morning star.
Little Maria was playing in the sandbox by herself with her lovable stuffed rabbit and her Winnie the Pooh Pillow Pet. The shadow of a perverted old man in a trench coat appeared over her as he whispered the words, “I can’t wait until you turn 18!”
Stephanie McMahon’s relentless slaps across The Big Show’s face were stinging with orange hot pain. Big Show retaliated by clutching Stephanie’s throat, not to give her his patented choke slam, but to shove a date rape drug down her throat.
Mario ran as fast as his chubby body would carry him as he pilfered the golden key from the evilly grinning Phanto. The sinister mask finally caught up to him and with one monstrous chomp bit Mario’s ear off like Mike Tyson.
The baldheaded and bloodthirsty Calcobrena puppets came to life and started dancing like they were performing in the world’s scariest ballet. The urine stain in Cecil’s pants was so damp that he would need a Sham Wow to soak up the stale fluids.
Rosa curled in the corner and shivered as the disgusting and perverted Dr. Lugae slowly approached her. He leaned his disfigured face close to her tear-soaked face and said, “Are you wearing a Milk Duds bra?”
Wanderlei Silva was flipping through the pages of the ultra-sexy Ronda Rousey’s ESPN photo shoot magazine with Matt Brown looking over his shoulder. Wanderlei said, “Ronda sure looks good.” and Matt Brown replied with, “Tastes good too, bro!”
Tarja Turunen received her 501st letter and it revealed a picture of her naked and butchered husband Marcelo Cabuli bound with chains and ball gagged. Below the picture were the words written in Floydian font: “Leave him for me…or else!”
G-Switch had been stripped naked and sprayed with a cold hose as his prison cell awaited him for what would be a life sentence. When it came time to give him his uniform, he didn’t get an orange jumpsuit, but a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit instead.
The frightened and defenseless Tina huddled in the dark corner while her attacker slowly approached her with a club in his hand. The lights flickered on to reveal the assailant as Drew Carey in a black banana hammock, who went on to say, “Welcome to Who’s Life Is It Anyway, where everything’s made up and the points are as useless as your cries for help!”
Todd knelt and sobbed over the bloody remains of his butchered wife. The torturer put a hand on the poor husband’s shoulder and gave him some good news: “I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.”
Gail was called into the massage therapist’s office for what was sure to be a relaxing and joyful experience. That all changed when she found out her massage therapist was Jeffrey Dahmer, who just got off of his “lunch break” and was back on the clock.
Charles had just devoured a delicious Chinese meal of fried sole, egg drop soup, and creamed broccoli. When he opened his fortune cookie, the little strip of paper read, “Thank you for eating at Hannibal Lector’s Golden Grill.”
Dave had just been served a scrumptious plate of Chinese fried rice and pork chow mein by the lovely smiling waitress. When he asked for a fork, however, the waitress pulled one out of her apron and stabbed him in the hand repeatedly until the metal utensil went all the way through.
Staci was tied to the street post with sharp steel chains and gagged with a horse mask. The only people who would come to her rescue were religious protestors who were holding up rainbow-colored signs that said, “God hates gags.”
With a dirty old man in lingerie chasing her across the parking garage, Elizabeth tripped over her high heeled shoes and lost one of them in the process. When the old man got close enough, he went after the shoe instead and took a huge sniff of the fetishized footwear.
Ronald McDonald approached the checkout isle of the grocery store with a basket full of goodies. Among the items purchased in unison were a bottle of lotion, a box of tissues, and a copy of Teen Cosmopolitan magazine.
Terrance approached the speaker box at Wendy’s and placed the following order: “I’d like a bowl of chili with a finger in it, a double bacon cheeseburger with human jerky, and an unsweetened iced tea with a woman’s big toe floating near the top.” Without missing a beat, the clerk on the other end of the speaker said, “If everything on the screen is correct, that’ll be $8.99 at the first window.”
Jerry and Sonya stripped each other of their clothing for a night of intimate romance. To get the lovemaking started, Jerry said in an African accent, “I am the captain now!”
Jeremiah was busy in the barn milking the cow when Uncle Zeb entered with a disgusted look on his face and said, “That’s a bull, son.” Jeremiah smiled at the farm master and said, “I knew that.”
A hefty mall cop entered Victoria’s Secret looking for a man named Victor Timothy. When the sexy brunette clerk shortened the two given names and put them together, it became painfully clear to her what the mall cop was really looking for.
The photo shoot for the No H8 campaign required that the celebrities in question, Daniel Bryan and Brie Bella, put duct tape on their mouths as a form of protest against bullying. When all the needed pictures were taken, the photographer then produced two more “protest props”: a black leather gimp hood and a red rubber ball gag.
William took a bite of cherry pie and thought it was so delicious that he needed to know the ingredients. Jenny leaned her face seductively into his and listed the ingredients as rhubarb, chocolate-covered cherries, cane sugar, orange juice, and finally…the minced remains of William’s mother.
The charismatic spokesman for Metro PCS bounced a purple metal ball around with the message that phone service was only $40, period. After he continually drove home the point of “period power”, he was brutally run over by a semi-truck delivering Kotex products.
Thomas took a swig of chocolate milk and immediately had the urge to vomit himself inside out. When he looked at the milk jug, not only did the expiration date say January 2nd, 1904, but the brand name was “Honey Bucket”.
Richard was told that a Playboy Bunny was waiting for him at the Motel 6 for a night of “sensual action”. When he opened the door, he got an entirely different kind of bunny: a 300 lb. mountain man in a Bugs Bunny outfit wielding a morning star.
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