I am the astro-creep, a demolition style, hell american freak. I am the crawling dead, a phantom in a box, shadow in your head.

After I hanging my shower curtains at the house on Superbowl Sunday, I headed over to my friend Jean’s house to give her some chrome shower curtain hooks that the previous owner left at the house. They were pretty cool, but I didn’t have any use for them being that the shower curtains I purchased came with matching hooks. Since Jean does non-profit work, I figured she could either use them herself or give them to a mentally ill person in need of bathing in privacy.

While her husband was planted on the sofa watching the game, Jean, her daughter and I spent the evening piled up on her daughter’s bed watching some dumb makeover show and coloring fuzzy velvet Sponge Bob posters. I was explaining to her about some horrible television experience I had the night before, involving redneck men selling grosses of cheap knives displayed by being stabbed into cypress trunks. Then she came to me with a housewarming gift, cheap knives. How funny! She explained to me that some poor sap was selling these horrible knives door-to-door through Antique Alley one day last week and how she felt sorry for him. She purchased two sets of knives from the solicitor for $20. She is so sweet.

Even though those knives are not good quality, the box is fabulous. It’s red and black with a picture of some not-so-famous Japanese hibachi chef and not a single word of English on the box. I love it, but I forgot it at her house, on her daughter’s bed. Now, assuming that every teenager’s room looks like Jean’s daughter’s (messy) I can only hope that those knives were moved by her mother from the bed before Jaimee rolled over onto them in her sleep and was killed. Maybe I should call to find out Jaimee is all right and apologize for my not taking my knives with me in my egress from the said residence.

OOPS!