Death & Despair (and a whole lot of chocolate to deal with it)

Tonight, me and my two best friends had a Girl’s Night planned. These usually involve a great deal of chocolate as well as a fine portion of wine, preferably while playing Munchkin (because we’re nerds like that and we’re awesome).

I was to pick up one friend, K, who doesn’t have a car, and we’d gather at the other friend’s (N’s) house, where no public transportation system ever visits.
Right where I had to turn left in order to get to K I noticed a few police cars with flashing lights, police tape preventing traffic to drive straight ahead, and two policemen with torches indicating all drivers to go left.

At this point I was merely relieved I was able to get to K’s house, since I don’t know how else to get there. And also I was a bit curious as to what had happened, but I hate useless spectators so I easily forgot about the police thing.

Anyway, I picked up K and we drove to N, who made us a lovely dinner, and we soon started catching up. K and me mentioned the accident site I encountered earlier (by this time we had learned it had been a traffic accident) and again we didn’t pay too much attention to it. Instead, we started munching our chocolate, sipping our tea (I never drink when I have to drive) and we started a game of Munchkin.

Not even halfway into what could have become a very interesting, hour-long Munchkin battle, N received a phone call from her brother-in-law. And judging from the look on N’s face and her reactions to what he was saying, it was Bad News.

Apparently a man had died in the forementioned accident, and it turned out to be her boyfriend’s cousin.

We spent the rest of our Girl’s Night trying to contact N’s boyfriend, who was out to see a movie, and trying to comfort her as much as we could until he got home.

People, I’ve thought it many times before, and now I am sure of it: even though the new year has only just begun, 2015 SUCKS!!!

So many people dead already, so many things going wrong, so much bad news! If this is the way 2015 is going to be like, I doubt there’s enough chocolate in the world to comfort me or my friends.

I feel sorry for N and her boyfriend’s loss and wish her and the entire family of the young man who died all the strength they need to get through this.

Heart to Post


Watching a rerun of Criminal Minds just made me realise I’d never be a good stalker; imagine having to stand in one spot, day in day out, doing nothing but watch and wait for a good moment to strike.

Lord, I’d be so bored!



Pronunciation: /kil-er/

“A sword never kills anybody; it is a tool in the killer’s hand”Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Last night, I murdered my radiator. Unknowingly, I might add. But I killed it anyway. Things just… often seem to break when I touch them, even if there was no harm intended.

I just remembered I also managed to break a glass ornament when I started working for a new client this Monday… At least he didn’t mind. Hmhm, so far, it’s been a good week for me break-wise.

Anyway, back to the radiator.
The saddest part is, it’s situated right next to my bed. Or better, my bed is placed directly in front of it. It’s a classic heating system, meaning there is a knob I can switch left and right to regulate the heat coming from it, or to switch it off. Which is what I was doing yesterday evening before I went to bed, and that’s when I, unknowingly, killed my radiator.
When turning the knob/handle/switch/thingy I felt a droplet of water coming from it but I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it because this happened before and it was never more than a single droplet. I told my father about this a few times and he was willing to fix it, but only if the weather was good (?? – He seems to put a lot of importance on the weather as this is his number one excuse for postponing maintenance chores). This basically means I had to give up for now and raise the subject again sometime during Summer (read: during the five good days the Netherlands have and which we refer to as the Summer season) and force my dad to Fix. The. Darn. Thing.

Turns out, he’s got to fix it now.

Last night I woke up after rolling over and catching something wet in my bed with my foot. My first thought was: “Oh no, did I pee in my bed?”, which was quickly followed by my second thought: “I can’t pee from my toes” (very sharp I was indeed), and a third, more awake one: “Why the f*ck is my bed wet!?”

I switched on my light and found the entire right corner of my bed, where my feet rest, to be soaking wet. The entire corner! That’s TWO duvets (I have an extra one for winter), the cover, the mattress, the pillow I keep under my mattress to stimulate my blood circulation, and, of course, the bed itself.
This time, it didn’t stop with just the one droplet, but instead the darn switch had been leaking ALL NIGHT!

And so typical that things like these ALWAYS happen right after you’ve changed your covers and made your bed!

Even though I was definitely very sleep-drunk I managed to wrap a towel around the leaking bastard and place another one in my bed, covering the wet part. It was 3 AM and I was not in the mood to change my bed sheets or put all the wet stuff into the dryer.

In the morning I placed a bucket under the knob, because it was still leaking and the towel I had wrapped around it during the night was already soaked, too:


I later learned that because my radiator was leaking, this meant the water level of the general heating system in our entire house was low as well. So not only did I manage to wet my bed (pun intended), I also managed to kill the general heating system in our entire home. It simply stopped working properly and left us cold and shivering.

Needless to say me and my mum went out for lunch.

And left my father a note. He’s got the leaking stopped and the water level is back to normal, so we’re all warm and cosy again.

For now.

You know, this whole killing my radiator thing makes me rethink my “it’s a good thing I am not a psychopath”-statement. Maybe I am a psycho after all! Maybe I just don’t know it yet! Maybe, here comes another pun, maybe it’s just killer instinct and I simply can’t help myself!

Well, whatever it is that’s next on my subconscious hit list, I hope I won’t slay it at night again. I am too fond of my sleep to give that up for anything. Even killing stuff.


Sunday Night Movie Night: Silver Bullet



A while ago, I started to make a list of all the movies I wanted to see or see again. Every Sunday evening, I scroll down that list and pick a film to watch, and this week the winner was:

“The face of the beast always becomes known, and the time of the beast always passes” – Reverend Lowe

Synopsis: Starting at full moon, a small American town is hit by a series of inexplicable and violent murders. A young crippled boy and his non-crippled sister suspect this might be the work of a real werewolf, and set out to kill the beast with the aid of their should-visit-the-AA-more-often uncle.

Mind you, this movie is older than I am! But, I have a soft spot for werewolves AND I remember seeing it for the first time when I was a whole lot younger than I am now, and back then it scared me to bits. So I thought it would be fun to see if this oldie still had it.

It’s based on a novelette by Stephen King, and that’s no shocker because everything about this story screams Stephen King. The characters (i.e. a village drunk, a crippled boy, bullies, a pregnant unmarried young woman), the setting (small everyone-knows-everyone-town) and ending (I won’t spoil it for those who haven’t seen it. But trust me, it’s very Stepen King-ish).
I admire Mr. King, because let’s face it: he’s the master of contemporary horror. Apparently he was that already before I was born, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still owns it. Anyway, old or not old, I enjoyed myself tonight with Silver Bullet.

During the movie I had some questions, mainly about how many full moons you can have during a week, or maybe if I missed something regarding how time passed in the story (but I didn’t). A sufficient explanation was given a bit too late to my likings, but it did take away my point of criticism. The only thing I can now say about the full moon excuse is that I like my werewolves to be classic: only change once a month, and please please please change into this raging murderous beast that has no recollection of his human form, nor has any level of consciousness in him (meaning: you can’t think or reason when you’re in wolf form – this wolf could and did so all the time).

And surely a werewolf should be able to outrun a crippled boy in his wheelchair. Even if it’s a spiced up, motorised wheelchair!

The sense of humour that was present was also very King-like, that means irony above all! Take this; Marty, the young boy in the wheelchair, finds himself in a bit of a predicament when he’s playing with fireworks and gets attacked by the beast. Before spinning his chair around and racing home (again: the wolf, hurt or not hurt, should have caught him!) he shoots a rocket straight into the wolf’s eye. Then, at the end of the movie, he shoots a silver bullet into the other eye to finish him off:

Now that’s what I call an eye-catcher

If that’s not ironic (or poetic) I don’t know what is.

Silver Bullet lasts as long as an average Disney movie, which is a bit sad considering it’s not a bad werewolf film at all. It’s also not the best, but for a Sunday Night Movie Night it was just perfect 🙂 Would I recommend it? Definitely.

Favourite scene:
A  group of villagers, set out to find whoever killed so many of their loved ones, ends up in a foggy part of the swamp where they soon find out the beast they’re hunting is neither in front of or behind them, but among them under the thick fog. By then, of course, it’s too late and the wolf attacks.
At the end of the killing scene, one villager’s arm is seen coming out of the fog, beating down on something with a baseball bat. After a few strikes, the werewolf steals the bat and starts using it on its victim. Pure retaliation (but also a bit stupid: why would you want to hit someone with a baseball bat when you’ve got sharp claws and bite-through-bone-easily-teeth?).



A question can never be difficult if you know the answer to it.