Can we talk something else?

Can we talk about something else? Hello. Out there. I'm out there I'd say that the scariest stories in true crime are the ones where an intruder storms a home

with rape and murder on his mind

the victims are usually women, sometimes children, rarely, if ever, men.

Can you imagine, say, someone like me, being raped and murdered in the dead of night by a

slobbering maniac? I bet some of you can. It's almost laughable. Men don't really have to

worry about that. And I'm pretty sure that I don't

either. My point is, the scariest stories to me aren't about me. They're about my kids, my girl,

my mother, any woman or child in my life, even outside of it. They're about mentally unstable

men becoming unhinged, along with any door they choose to burst in it. There are about mentally unstable men becoming unhinged,

along with any door they choose to burst in through.

There are a lot of men out there susceptible to intrusive thoughts

about devolving into an unstoppable intruder.

Most just aren't physically capable enough,

mentally disturbed enough, neurotic enough to become...

Neurotic enough to become a Russell Maurice Johnson type.

Thank goodness I'm only one for three.

And if I managed to get you feeling funny about me here, just do the math.

I ain't half bad. It's scary, the mentally ill man. Some are just

driving around, being driven nuts by the drive to harm others. I think about those men. I look

out for them. But the scariest thing is that in the end, what the fuck am I or are you really going

to do about it?

...