If I Drop Dead, My Obituary Will Be Terrible

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a huge fan of true crime. I’m currently watching the premiere episode of a 6-part miniseries on ID called “The Vanishing Women.” It’s about how six women all disappeared from the same small town in Ohio between 2014 and 2015. Four have been found dead, two are still missing, and the investigation into their disappearances is still ongoing.

As is the case with many of the true crime shows I love, this first episode begins with a scene in which three family members of Tiffany Sayres, one of the murdered women, fondly reminisce about her with tears in their eyes. They talk about how hard-working she was, how kind to animals. They all agree that she was never without her purse, which always contained a bottle of soda and a spare t-shirt. And while watching this depressing, exploitative, ghoulish conversation, all I could think was, “If I were to drop dead tonight, my obituary would be terrible.” I’ve been thinking about what it would say, and so far I’ve got this:

Caroline Nierman, a native New Yorker best known for her resemblance to John Goodman in photographs, died June 9, 2016, according to her family. She was 29. Nierman was born Caroline Nierman in May of 1987, and she aspired to use the stage name Saucy Goblin if she ever performed on stage. When she was 14, Nierman fell on a treadmill while paying rapt attention to an episode of ‘Say What Karaoke,’ and her right knee was never the same. 

Nierman attended a university in Scotland for three years. She spent the vast majority of her time in the United Kingdom outside of the classroom, either enjoying a local restaurant’s signature pancakes or sleeping. In 2008, she returned to New York City and took her first administrative job, which barely covered the rent on an unnecessarily expensive studio apartment that she insisted on moving to. While living alone, Nierman managed to rack up an impressive $4,000 of debt by using her credit card to pimp out an Ikea bed, which she loved like a child, and then ignoring the bills. 

While Nierman worked at a number of different companies over the course of her career, her proudest professional moment was when she was accused of locking a disturbed four year old into a room that had no lock on its door while she was working as a summer camp counselor in high school. Nierman could always be counted on to laugh at YouTube videos of people falling down, and she loved nothing more than catching up on The Daily Mail while curled up into the fetal position with earplugs in. 

Despite her shortcomings, Nierman spent her life loving and being loved by her endlessly supportive and hilarious family, who she was so attached to that she insisted on being picked up from 98% of the sleepovers she went on in her lifetime. She also miraculously managed to reel in the very definition of a catch when it came to her adored fiancé, who is now the sole parent of their delicious dog, Jack (Instagram: @JackieTheBean). 

There will be no funeral, as Nierman found funerals to be unbearably depressing. In lieu of gifts, please donate money to every single animal shelter and rescue organization in the world – seriously, all of them – or else Nierman will, in her own words, “haunt your sorry, callous ass until you’re withered and gray.” RIP. 

Phew. Glad that’s over with! Now back to my program.

 

Great, Now I Might Be Living Over a Portal to Hell

You can imagine how pleased I was when I stepped into my building’s lobby the other day and was greeted by what appeared to be The Book of Shadows sitting on the communal table by my elevator. It’s kind of a thing in this building – people leave their old crap on the table downstairs in the hope that their 1970’s guide to parenting or half-consumed jar of Nutella will go to good use, insead of where it belongs (in the trash).

Sure, the cover of the book says that it’s something benign, pleasant, even: The Standard Treasury of the World’s Greatest Music. With that being said, I’m pretty sure that given its faded, burgundy cover and spooky vibes that this book contains all of the secrets to the world’s evil and should never be opened by the weak, fleshy hand of a mortal.

We’ll put it like this: I just hope that B and I are out for a walk with Jack when some idiot finally comes along, cracks open the cover and turns my building into a portal to hell.

The Creepiest Sweater Ever?

The Creepiest Sweater Ever?

This is an actual sweater for sale in a store. I don’t really know what the creature woven into the front of it is supposed to be. It looks like a bunch of different weird things, including a flasher, a cockroach, and a cockroach flasher. My boyfriend thinks it looks like an omen in a scary Japanese movie that would pop out from behind trees and shit to remind you of your mortality. Whatever it is, its red eyes and the fact that it looks like it’s fleeing from a predator seriously give me the heebie-jeebies.

The Horror of Meth: Before & After Photos from the Daily Mail

The Horror of Meth: Before & After Photos from the Daily Mail

OH, SWEET CHRIST ON A CRACKER. Click on the link above this post, and you, too, can be freaked the fuck out by the absolutely horrific impact that meth has on a person’s physical appearance over time.

Somehow, the poster didn’t realize that the girl in the first photo has clearly been in a terrible fire in addition to being a meth addict. After all, it may be a nasty drug, but meth doesn’t make your face melt off like that/turn you into Sloth from “The Goonies” – unless your lab exploded while you were taking care of business, which is what I’d bet money happened to this poor lass. Her hair still looks good, though.

Moving swiftly along, I’d like you to scroll down and have a look at the second woman who is profiled. This unfortunate soul’s meth use somehow transformed her into a very bruised-looking coyote/human hybrid (a cuman). Now, let’s be honest – she was no Elle Macpherson to begin with, but DAMN, what a difference a few years of meth addiction makes. I literally screamed when I saw her photos.

The last photo set that I found profoundly disturbing is the one of of the guy who started out looking like he could have been in an Abercrombie ad. His meth addiction turned him into someone who looks like he died three months ago and is currently trying to break in through your window to eat your brains. Also, he seems to only have one little buck tooth left. It’s an unfortunate thing to lose all of your teeth except for one front tooth…but it’s probably more unfortunate to have the awful monkey of meth addiction on your back for the rest of your life.

Stephen King Approves of This Message.

I was out for dinner last night at a sub-par restaurant on the UWS when I noticed something unsettling on the wine menu. The only Pinot Noir that you could order by the glass was called the Pennywise. This concerned me greatly, because, HELLO, Pennywise is the name of the clown from It, and I certainly didn’t need HIM sitting next to me while I ate my Penne Rigate. I actually spent time thinking to myself, “Okay – so if I order the Pennywise, I have to say it once, and then the waitress might repeat me, which would make it twice, and then what if the bus boy says Pennywise a third time when he brings the glass over? For the love of GOD, what then?”

Then I remembered that you have to use a slingshot to fell the maniacal/otherworldly clown in question (retrospectively, that seems like a major plot hole, but whatever). A great thing about NYC is that you can buy anything you want here at any time, including slingshots – so I ordered the Pennywise.

On the most disturbing “Are You Afraid of the Dark” of all time:

IMDB tells me that this episode of “Are You Afraid of the Dark,” which is called ‘The Tale of Badge,’ premiered on April 20, 1996. This means two things: 1) that I was only 8 when I saw it for the first time and was resultantly scarred for life, and 2) that some teenager was stoned out of his gourd when HE watched it for the first time and is probably still in a sanatorium somewhere freaking out.

Honestly, I still count ‘The Tale of Badge’ as the second scariest thing I’ve ever seen (“The Sixth Sense” is number 1; I literally trained myself to sleep with my eyes open after watching that fucking movie). I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is about Badge that terrifies me so much. The voice, maybe? The fact that he kidnaps our protagonist’s little brother and takes him back to a cave filled with skeletons? Or maybe it’s that he is an EVIL FOX-LIKE GOBLIN WHO WEARS A HAT MADE OUT OF SKINS AND SPEAKS LIKE YODA. I don’t know.

Perhaps most unsettling is the fact that Badge was apparently played by a guy named Roland Smith, and apparently Roland Smith hasn’t been in anything since he played Badge. Obviously, this leaves room for the possibility that Roland Smith actually turned into Badge and now lives inside a wooden box in some witch’s house. Great.

There is ONE thing about “Are You Afraid of the Dark” that makes every episode a lot less scary: the show was made in French Canada and all the actors have broad French Canadian accents. I’m glad I know this, because if Roland Smith-Badge ever shows up at my door, I’ll just make him a plate of Poutine and then he’ll be so stuffed that he’ll be like, “Take nap for 400 years, Badge wants to. Fuck the Setterwinds.”