The Day That Fish Died…

My friend had a fish in her office once. As I visited her, I took notice of it. “Fish looks miserable,” I commented. “Yeah,” she said, “he certainly does.” I stared at it for a moment. “How about I take it home with me?” So I took it home and placed him near a window, where he would see outside for the first time in his life, as his old home was one which contained no windows.

He was a good fish. Never did come up with a name for him though. I called him “That Fish” to my friends. He seemed pretty happy for the next few months.

Recently, however, he went back to being a depressed looking fish. He looked exactly the way he did in that windowless office. One day, last week sometime, I brought his bowl over to the sink so I could clean it out and give him some fresh water.

I never really understood people’s fascination with keeping a bird or a fish as a pet. Birds can fly wherever the fuck they want to anywhere, yet, some silly white bastard has to cage them and stare at them 10 minutes a day while speaking gibberish towards it. I bet if these birds had fingers, they’d have killed themselves long ago.

Same goes for fishes.

As I started to drain his little bowl of the foul water, he didn’t appear to try and swim away from the draining water as he usually does. Instead, he headed straight for it and, before I could even blink, he fell into the sink. Luckily, I was able to grab him right quick and put him into the new bowl. I continued cleaning it while thinking, “That was a close one.”

Now he was in a different bowl with the same dirty water from the previous bowl. I had to drain this dirty water in order to put him back into the new bowl. I started dumping the water out while using a net against it in case he tried to make a break for it again. Unluckily, he succeeded in making another break for the sink. Unluckily, I wasn’t able to save him this time. He fell on to the metal part of the drain and just as I was about to snatch him, he slid right down the drain and journeyed down into a world of shit, piss, and used condoms.

I felt awful.

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This Empty Bowl (3/2009)

He’s never tried to do that at all, but on this simple day, he tries it twice? How can that be? Regardless, his mission towards suicide was a success. But I felt real bad about draining the hot water from my spaghetti that night down the same drain. It was like I was pouring one on my homie instead of for him.

The detective who showed me death…

I’m in this Sociology of Murder class. It’s pretty awesome, as all we talk about are weird murder cases and what not. My teacher is a captain of detectives or something in my city. The other day, he brought in one of his detectives to talk to us about some of the real life cases he’s worked on in town. I was pretty excited about the whole thing.

Funnily enough, both my teacher and the detective sported a mustache. Two walking cop clich├ęs right there in front of me. Long sleeve dress shirts, plain colored ties, tie clips, and mustaches. This new detective was pretty funny. I imagined him to be that cop who says crazy shit during interrogations. My teacher was the quiet type, the “good cop” to this guy’s “bad cop.”

Anyways, this guy walked up to the front of our classroom and said, “Okay guys, so I am going to show you some pictures. They are not for the weak of stomach or the faint of heart. If you have to leave, that’s totally fine. Your teacher will see you next week.”

I knew exactly what was going down. He was to show us people of dead people. And dead people, he showed us. Hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of dead people. Suicides by hanging, gun shots, stabs, people who jumped off buildings, strangulations, and even a guy who was shoved in a toilet. This guy has seen it all.

The best part is that this guy would joke about each picture while most of my class was horrified. Me and this other kid were the only ones laughing. Is it weird that I think dead people are funny?

Interestingly enough, was how some people killed themselves. 80% of the suicide pictures he showed us, the people got naked first. Like they didn’t want to fuck up their outfits with blood or brain particles. What about the fucking carpet?
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Careful with that Rope (10/2007)

Guy killed, not ate, his wife…

Reuters reports that a Mexico City man killed his wife by strangulation. The weird part, however, is when police stormed the guy’s apartment and found pieces of fried flesh all over the place, and the woman’s mutilated body in the bedroom closet. Investigators also found books on black magic.

Though it was clear that he cooked pieces of his dead girlfriend, he claims he never tasted it. He was instead feeding it to his dog, in an attempt to dispose of the body. I guess he didn’t work fast enough.

As investigators stormed his apartment, the man jumped off the balcony in an effort to escape. Instead, he was injured and caught. Also found on the scene: The Hannibal Lector Films.

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Food for the Dog (10/2007)