Why You Suck At Murder

I watch alot of murder oriented television. ALOT. We're measuring in fuck-tons here, ALOT of fuck-tons. I'm talking about Forensic Files, Dexter, Cold Case Files, CSI (but not Miami, David Caruso's bullshit pensive sunglasses thing makes me want to drink paint) NCIS... I mean, if its got an acronym with C, I, and S, in it, or they talk about shoe tread patterns and diatoms, I am there.

The thing I notice primarily, is how much amazing information is available on how to discretely dismiss people and how brutally poor at it people are. Dudes are out there, chipper-shredding frozen people who have addressed checks in their pockets, leaving bloody shoes lying in their mom's basements and trying to kill people with draino. What wild incompetence! What poor planning! In the spirit of reducing the population density, I've decided to gather together some basic guidelines for the novice death dealer. Read and learn.

1. No stabbing! - I know you really hate that d-bag who fucked your sister while running over your dog, but stabbing is for amateurs. Obvious knife-shaped entrance wounds linkable to the specific weapon, microabrasions on bones, indicators of attacker strength and strike angles... blood spatter... Why don't you just sign your name in your own semen on a "Glad you're dead" Hallmark card and tape it to the corpse while you're at it? Stabbers always go down hard, period. Its like running from the cops... all its gonna do is land you on TV getting tazed until foam sprays out of your mouth while a police dog drags you around with your pants half off.

If you somehow just wake up from a blind red rage already having stabbed, at least get the murder weapon out of there and dispose if it in an unrelated place. No asshole, not in the trunk of your car or buried in your back yard... more like in the trash can of a Chuck E Cheese two towns over. Toss the shoes you wore while you're at it.

2. Clothing is Key! - You might think you're a fucking ninja with your black sweats and your skimask, but you are a noob and a rank amateur. The expert extinguisher should smell like a hospital and squeak when he walks. Rubber apron, latex gloves, plastic shoe covers, shower cap... You'll look like a lunchlady, but you won't be dropping DNA all over the future crime scene while struggling with your wife's "platonic tennis partner".

And don't go taking all that shit home either. Put it in a lawn bag you stole from the Home Depot, drive 200 miles in a random direction and stuff it in the bottom of a restaurant dumpster at 2AM.

Don't go in to the woods and try to burn evidence! Starting a fire is like sending coincidence a native smoke signal and it will send some bumbling witness straight to your location so he can hide behind a tree and remember what you looked like and what suspicious shit you were doing. And for God's sake, don't bury anything. Nothing. Burying shit does two things: 1 - requires you to dig. People just digging out in the woods are fucking suspicious. Bumbling witnesses always dig up whatever you buried and inspect it. 2 - Burying shit protects the evidence. 2 feet of dirt is way less impressive than 10 tons of garbage. A bag of bloody clothes also stands out lying in a hole in the woods, notsomuch in a landfill. Imagine if you were charged with searching for evidence in a landfill, sounds impossible as hell right? Good, that's what you want.

3. Steal a car! - You'll certainly need a car for your homicial outing, as nothing is more conspicuous than a bloody man running down the street in a plastic apron. The noob move is to roll out in your silver 89 Hyundai with poorly attached discount rims and the red replacement door your ex-uncle in-law installed. Trust me. If you use your own car, there's somehow a 100% chance that you were coincidentally sold a limited edition, first press obscure tire made at a special plant in Milwaukee that closed down immediately after producing it and will leave a nice clear tire imprint in some serendipitous soft clay. (No doubt paid for with that first credit card you got in your name when you were 18) Either that, or the tri-lobal fiber baby-blue and lime-green shag carpet in your teardrop-window molester van is so fucking ugly that you are one of only three people in US history tasteless enough to stomach looking at it. (No doubt too they'll find a nice long strand trapped between the victim's teeth) Either way, they'll link some obscurely unique shit to your ride and they'll be spraying luminol all over your garage before your ex-ex's insurance paperwork even clears.

If you do steal a car, again, wear a plastic suit and gloves under that freshly bought trenchcoat, or no doubt they'll somehow find one of your semen-encrusted pubes stuck right to the steering wheel. You've been warned.

4. Don't Preserve the Body! - Dexter does this, and it pisses me off every time. Don't put the corpse in a plastic bag you retard! Corpses are the the PROBLEM, we want them to GO AWAY. Plastic bags are inherently designed to fucking protect items from the elements. You want to get rid of the damn thing, not leave it for your grandma to see on the news 6 months from now when the bag fills up with corpse-gas and floats to the surface. Put the body and some cinderblocks in a dog kennel or a crab trap and let the hungry creatures of the sea do your dirty work... Just stay out of scenic, scuba diving areas.

5. Use Science! - This is advice so good, I hate to give it you, for fear that when I have to kill your dumb ass, your friends might guess it was me. The human body is a complex system that doesn't deal well with chemical imbalance, especially to chemicals absent or present only in tiny amounts. There are a ridiculous number of chemicals that don't appear on a tox screen and will dispatch a human discretely and untraceably. And as an added bonus, if it looks like a heart attack, you don't even need to worry about dirtying your pasty white man-mitts dismembering a body! I've decided the best way to handle this is to immobilize the victim and inject them with a fatal substance right up the cornhole. That way, there's no visible needle mark, and the natural intestinal intake system will make things extra-speedy. Plus, you aren't trying to trick the victim into eating that odd-tasting burrito you mysteriously insisted on cooking and yet refuse to touch.

I also give this method extra thought, since genetics has granted me a guaranteed eventual ride on the alzheimer's express, and I don't plan to board, if you catch my drift. (I'll need a cornhole injection administerer volunteer) When I die of an "undetermined cause", SOMEBODY's getting that insurance money... Well, maybe not if they read this blog. Fuck. Looks like I'm gonna need administrative privilages here Dave... I'll need to delete this later.