Deadjournal
This is a blog from a serial killer on a mission from hell

Its been a few days since I blogged. I struck up a few conversations over the last few days in this small college town, but nothing really panned out. Saw a few lone stragglers on their way home from a bar, too, but something didnt feel right about either one so I let them stumble on home. Almost kicked some homeless guys face in for fun as I stood over him while he snored from a lot of cheap vodka, but that would have been counter-productive. I need something to take home. Something warm and wriggly to play with for a few days. I figured if I could make it last for a while, I could get by another two weeks without heating things up too much.

So anyway, I was frustrated and bored, so I headed over to Starbucks, figuring I am bound to hate the majority of the corporate fuckheads that frequent that particular establishment. I approached the counter and looked for a list of herbal teas (caffeine makes me crazy), but couldn’t find one. I pleasantly asked the cashier to tell me the different kinds they had, and the little brat looked at me like I asked her to change my tire or something. She gestured with her head , showing me where the teas were located on the other side of the counter, and then waited for me to lean over and read them myself.

I smiled at her like I was retarded, figuring the brain dead girl could understand that better than spoken word, which I already tried. Eventually it worked and she started reading the names off to me with a subtle but obvious tone of irritation, and then turned to me with disgust.

I made her repeat them three times before I turned and walked away without another word. Hey blondie at Starbucks, I think you just caught my interest. Something tells me we will be seeing each other again soon. Looking forward to it.