Us girls who date losers, we really want to die, but we're not brave enough to end it ourselves, so we're just hoping they'll kill us.
Show up. Look pretty. Beg for it.
Foreplay for men is wearing you down, so they feel like they’ve done something, like they’ve conquered all.
I even brought my own sharpened cleaver for the big event.
When I threw the door back open, I was high out of my mind on opioids, you know, to numb myself to the murdering. After all, I wanted to die. I’m not a masochist.
What Cannibal taught me was that mom was only half right.
Krissy would like the world to know the following:
Krissy Eliot writes things that are funny, shameless, and satisfyingly disgusting. She's had Gonzo-style sex columns in the San Francisco Bay Guardian and Bay Area Reporter, covered controversial science as an editor at UC Berkeley's California magazine, and has even worked as a writer in the aerospace industry. Krissy believes in living a life worth writing about, which is why she gets nearly trampled in political protests, infiltrates "orgasmic meditation" cults, and spends nights in the woods with Bigfoot hunters. You can find Krissy on History Channel shows talking about cryptids and UFOs. You can also find her doing live fiction readings in Portland, Oregon, telling tales of pumpkin-spiced obsessed vampires and lobotomies delivered via anal beads. Check out her work at www.krissyeliot.com. Oh, and if you're an agent, don't be shy. She wants you too.
Death and the Single Girl, Helen Gurley Brown could not have written this any funnier. Or sadder. Thank you, Krissy!
