After weeks of reflection I’ve come to the realization my temporary disinterest in crime wasn’t entirely sparked by a desire to shield victims’ families.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, and I can no longer deny the source of my suffering:
this presidential election has made me certifiably insane.
It’s difficult for me to think about anything besides politics—every pore of my body exudes rage,
and if I’ve said something unkind to you or yours in the comments I humbly apologize.
As a personal anger exorcism I’ve written my very first hot take.
I hope I’m understanding the concept of a “hot take” correctly, but if I’m not rest assured—some kind soul will undoubtedly point out my shortcomings (with alacrity and great detail) in the comment section.
Do you wanna die?
—– Possum Kingdom, Toadies (1996)
Everything old is new again, especially in fashion—and the most recent corpse exhumed from the prêt-à-porter grave is Grunge.
The recycling of ‘90s attire is a welcome trend (for those of us who kept our Doc Martens, anyway),
but the resurgence of one popular Grunge-era accessory needs to be nipped in the bud:
cheap, plastic faux-tattoo chokers.
In days of yore my friends and I called them murder necklaces.
“I’m not going out with you tonight unless you take off that murder necklace—I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”
“That street vendor is selling murder necklaces—he should throw in a body bag for free.”
“Wow, check out that girl in the murder necklace—do you think she knows she’ll never make it home alive?”]
There was a ten-year stretch from 1995-2005 when it seemed like every young (and some not-so-young) female victim sported a ubiquitous choker of death;
has society learned nothing from that decade of carnage?
When I saw Adriana Coronado’s missing poster earlier this year I knew the search would end in tears long before her body was found.
Take heed, potential fashion victims—ignore the moral of this blog post at your peril.
Rock the clodhopper shoes, don the overalls, sport the acid denim if you dare—but stay away from murder necklaces.
And not just because they’re ugly—although they are—but because wearing a faux noose around your neck is a homicidal trigger for maniacs.
You’d have a better survival rate sewing yourself into a plaid flannel shroud and hitchiking to Lollapalooza in a stranger’s panel van.