It's All Fun And Games Until Someones Hymen Gets Ripped

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We live in a small town. We've always lived in a small town or rural area. We leave our doors unlocked and our keys in our cars. And, in a act of generosity, we even leave the blinds off our windows. (I kid. Sort of. Some of our windows STILL don't have shades.) That's just what we do.

Er, I should say did.

In her spare time my sister has started persuing the sex offender list for her reading pleasure. She has calculated that our tiny town consists of 1% perverted creeps. Well. There's probably more, but those are the ones that have been convicted and registered.

Knowledge is a dangerous thing.

This morning on my way out to work I discovered the door was locked. I glared over to my sister. Her reasoning? "Well! You don't want to be RAPED IN YOUR SLEEP, DO YOU?!"

The curtains need to be drawn. "Our neighbors could be child molesters who enjoy watching us!" (Because, clearly, we are children and would thus be the subject of their delights.)

I accidentally left her key in her car. "For the rapist to use as a getaway car! YOU'RE IN CAHOOTS! AREN'T YOU?!"

I know, I know, she'll be the one laughing when I'm lying naked and violated on the ground. But, hey, it's still fun to creep into her bed in the middle of the night and whisper in her ear.

5 Responses to “It's All Fun And Games Until Someones Hymen Gets Ripped”

  1. Anonymous steelcowboy 

    A little fear can be a healthy thing, but too much can become a prison.

  2. Anonymous Porkchop 

    fear? FEAR? we don't do fear. people who are afraid don't do fun things

  3. Anonymous Queenofsass 

    Just for giggles maybe you can call her and do some heavy breathing.

    I rediscovered you today. I forgot how refreshing your blog is.

  4. Anonymous joy 

    Yes, well, call me a 'fraidycat, but ever since this happened, I scare rather easily. RECOGNIZING people on the sex offender list certainly doesn't help.

  5. Anonymous joy 

    Sorry, this.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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