This spring, I made a deliberate attempt at making my house look as though a couple of serial killers didn’t live here. The 70’s, you see, seemed to be a time of Great Bushes, and the people whom we had purchased our home from hadn’t bothered to *snort* take care of their Bushes. So we had a Bush Overgrowth. *cackles*

Bush-Gate 2010 was born and I removed all 2,083 of the overgrown bushes in an effort to convince the neighborhood that perhaps my house was not populated by Dexter’s Biggest Fans. (you get your whore hands off my television husband)

And yet now, six months later, I ordered my groceries PeaPod AND attempted to use “dry” shampoo (turns out it’s bullshit) because I am so infirm. My skin is turning a milky-shade of white as I have been stuck on the couch, my muscles atrophying into puddles of goo. No longer can I say, “WHICH WAY TO THE GYM?” then kiss my arms as I flex.

Oh no.

I am a slug. A cockroach. An OLD PERSON. If I fell, I couldn’t get up. I need one of those Life Alert things. (much as one of my Pranksters suggested)

More than that, I’m afraid that my neighbors will think that I’ve been chopped up into tiny bits and shoved down the garbage disposal because they haven’t seen me. Every time the phone rings, I figure it’s the cops investigating a possible homicide at my residence. You know, since Becky Sherrick Harks hasn’t been seen in nearly two weeks and even had groceries delivered (I hate ordering PeaPod).

I may not be particularly smart OR handy, but I am the person who is outside puttering around and staring at the car, willing whatever problem its having (JOHN C MAYER) to be fixed by sheer mental power alone. I’ll stand there staring, waiting until the solution jumps out at me, or my neighbor comes and points out out. I’ll let YOU guess which comes first.

So for me not to be outside at all is troublesome.

I’d guess that the neighborhood is going to be covered with HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON? signs soon. Not because I’m popular, just because if someone goes missing in your neighborhood, do you REALLY want to say, “Oh, I did NOTHING about it?”

No. No you do not.

There will be a search of the neighborhood, I’d bet and maybe even some of those rescue body dogs. Hopefully the dogs will uncover another murder since I am not actually dead. Merely pasty and slug-like.

Eventually, one of the kids will inform the search parties, or the weeping “WHY GOD WHY” ladies that have never known me, yet feel compelled to cry at my “death” that I am not exactly dead, merely bored and stuck on the couch.

The search people will be mad, of course, but really, who do they have to blame but themselves?

I would have told them I wasn’t dead or missing.

56 thoughts on “The Serial Killer Next Door

        1. Can I come, too?

          It’s lonely over here.

          p.s. you kinda look like Jamie Lynn Sigler in that pic.

  1. Love the hat! lol. Let me guess, It’s because you still don’t have the hang of that dry shampoo?
    BTW, the garbage disposal won’t handle the body, the bones will jam it up. Better to use the wood chipper that you must have needed to get rid of all those bushes. Just sayin’.

  2. Oh, I love that picture – gosh, Amelia looks JUST like her momma – that photo sealed the deal.

    On a side note, enjoy the down time as much as possible – the holidays are coming and if you’re anything like us – it’s non-stop chaos.

  3. okay, so how long does this cockroach phase last? i’m starting to feel like i should spend all day in bed or on my couch in sympathy. not that my days involve anything superexciting or earth shatteringly amazing. i mostly sit on my ass in front of my computer, or sit on my ass on my couch, or get off my ass to cook something.

    but really. how long? and do you still have those drains?

  4. This is fantastic. I imagine many of these scenarios myself when I am sick cause I know the neighborhood revolves around me. Cause come on why would it not?
    But if a few of my neighbors went missing I’d probably know why and I’d be the person that never said a word. Cause I was happy they were gone. Cause my neighbors are annoying yo.
    Now let us hope your website will allow me to post my comments. Last week I had a brilliant comment to the Glamorous post and your whore site wouldn’t allow it. It crushed me honestly.

  5. You are rockin the shit outta that white streak in your hair. Is that deliberate or just God’s way of fancifying you, cause I’m kind of jealous here. Sorry you’re so immobile, that rather sucks. Are the headaches any better?

  6. So, you have me thinking, maybe this surgery isn’t for me. Is it a total bitch or what? Would you do it again if you knew about the pain and the general state of cockroachness?

  7. Hey – dry shampoo. You’ve gotta get the “clear” kind made for platinum blonds. It dries clear…ish. It’s the best I’ve found. I use it after I workout at lunch but don’t feel like showering before going back to work. Because I have that little respect for my co-workers. Get better soon!

  8. (you get your whore hands off my television husband)


    Ahem. Ok. I’m done. My TV husband is McSteamy just in case you wanted to know.

    Oh and I’m so there if we picket.

  9. You live in the Chicago suburbs. Your neighbors just assume that you defaulted on your mortgage and pulled out all the bushes as a “fuck you” to the lender. Now, they figure you’ve finished trashing the place and left in the middle of the night. Which sucks, because activities on my Tuesday nights are slim, and hand-wringing gatherings sound like fun.

  10. Okay … at least you don’t live in the woods like I do. If I were to get murdered by a serial killer … there wouldn’t be a point in flyers because there is A) Nowhere to put them and B) No one around to see them.

    Although I guess I have to admit that I am just as likely to get mauled by a bear as I am a serial killer … we have some WEIRDOS up here.

    Glad you’re feeling better and look at that photo of you! So pretty… *jealous*

  11. I won’t believe until until I see that mug on the side of a milk carton. or do they only do that for kids? maybe adults at least get a poster at the post office?

  12. I thought you lived in Whizzer’s house? Are you trying to tell me that Whizzer was a serial killer? OMG, that sounds like Fuzzy Wuzzy, doesn’t it? “Whizzy Whizzer was a Killer…” But not nearly as amusing as telling people you live in the Whizzer of Oz.

  13. See, if I lived near you, there would be no question about you being alive. I would totally write out a list of assignments for my homeschooling oldest and Gabe and I would come over and Party with you and the little ones.We’d have such a rocking party that all the neighbors would come knocking to see if they can join in.

  14. Dear Aunt Becky, O Beloved Tough Bitch of Our Hearts,
    What is UP with the BASSETT HOUND photo? You look irresisibly youthful and sweet…it’s positively disturbing, knowing you as we do.

    I for one don’t want anything to do with the creepy “bush removal” effort, but am happy to stand by, drink vodka and tonic, laugh in a knowing sort of way, and speculate on the possibility of bodies buried under the so-called-former “bushes”.

    Angie at Eat Here

  15. I am rarely seen outside the house. My own, anyway. I could be rotting for weeks before anyone would notice. I’m not sure how I feel about that, honestly.

  16. Dry shampoo is bullshit! Sure, it makes my hair smell better but the greasy mess laughs at the dry shampoo and over powers it. Not to mention if makes my hair feel like paper.

    So, while your neighbors are putting up “have you seen….” signs will you be pointing and laughing out the window?

    Love this blog!

    1. I’ll be blitzed on the couch and somehow won’t notice. That will make it ALL THE MORE HILARIOUS when the picket party and hand-wringers show up.

      I’ll be all, WTF? Want a cookie? And they’ll be all, YOU WERE DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE.

  17. When I had shoulder surgery, and couldn’t stand it anymore, I actually had my husband wash my hair. This may not sound like much… except my hair, at the time was juuuust about waist length… he also had to learn how to use a scrunchie, and if I was daring enough I asked him to braid it. I was in an immobilizer for 6 weeks… surgery was on my dominant arm… cockroachness ensued… learning how to wipe myself lefty? THAT was challenging.

  18. I will be watching to see if you show up on the news… People will be leaving flowers en mass on your front lawn, holding candlelight vigils outside, crying softly to each other… all while you get to watch from the comfort of your couch! Your kids will have to go to (more) therapy… I will have to pass on the hymn singing, I cant sing to save my life…. But im all in for the picketing,,,

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