Month: April 2017

I awake to the Alarm yelling in my ear.  He’s like a broken record, “Wake Up! Wake Up! Wake Up!”  As I hurl his plastic body across the room, he screams in terror.  Let that be a lesson to the other Clocks in my home.  I am not afraid to bash their heads in the wall.

After having brutally murdered my Clock Radio, I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower.  I must wait for the water to warm up.  The Dirt doesn’t like hot water.  Once the steam gently floats from behind the shower curtain, I peel off my pajama skin and creep into the tub, which will soon become a battlefield.

The Dirt on my body runs in every direction trying to escape the flood from the shower head.  They cling to my body and hair fighting for their lives.  Hot water is not enough to rid me of the vermin.  I pour shampoo and body wash into my hand.  They are eager for battle this morning.  The Suds attack with such a force that the Dirt lose their grip and fall to the watery graves below my feet.

As the battle nears its end, the Suds drag the decaying corpses of their enemy down to the nether reaches of the sewer drain.  I shut off the water and dry myself promptly, wiping away the scars from the war that took place on my skin.  Now the sensual portion of the morning begins.

The Hair on my head is knotted and uptight.  She refuses to flow gently in one direction.  Angry and seemingly untamable, I prepare to relax her as I call in a specialist.  The Hair Brush sits patiently in the cabinet.  Always ready to do his job.  He begins by gently rubbing her sides, making sure wild hairs are kept behind the ears.

She is beginning to relax now, allowing the Brush to romance her.  He works his way to the back and discovers the tangles.  It was sensual in the beginning to warm up the Hair, now it’s time to play rough.  The tangles don’t come out too easy.  The Brush penetrates and pulls out from the Hair faster and faster until the final release.

Now exhausted from the physical strain, the Hair lays to rest ever so gently on the top of the head.  The Brush returns to his cabinet awaiting the next day when they can make love again.  He has a cousin and neighbor in the cabinet.  The Tooth Brush is not as sensual but his job is perhaps far more important.  Disposing of germs and preventing tooth decay.

Inside the mouth there are many Germs.  They dance to the music, drink many alcoholic beverages, consume hallucinogens and rot your teeth away.  The Tooth Brush rallies his men outside the mouth.  Toothpaste, his trusted partner, Floss, the new recruit, and Mouth Wash, the head of the SWAT Team, all wait patiently to begin the raid.  They’ve planned this raid for hours, ever since the last raid from the day before.

Tooth Brush and Paste bust in first, pushing everyone towards the dance floor.  Floss, eager to prove himself, chases down all the Germs hiding between the teeth.  Finally the SWAT Team comes through and drags all the Germs out.  There won’t be any parties in the mouth for a while.  So now the coast is clear for breakfast.

Breakfast can take on many different forms.  Sometimes it’s only a muffin or some fruit.  I personally enjoy eggs and bacon.  As I pull the food from the fridge, they are all very cheerful, greeting me with “Good Morning!” unaware of the horror that will soon unfold.

I grab the first Egg.  He begins to worry as I hold him over the pan on the oven.  A blood curdling scream echoes through the kitchen as I crack his shell on the pan.  The other Eggs are panic-stricken.  As the first Egg’s entrails pour out of his shell, the sizzle on the pan is like music to my ears.  The torment grows for each Egg that gets boiled alive.  I don’t cook all of them.  I put the few that are left back into the fridge so they can live in fear of when their time will come.

The Bacon is less fun to torture since the ones in the package are oblivious to the world.  But I enjoy eating them more than frying.  And there is some brief satisfaction in hearing them squeal right before their fat pops and they begin to shrivel.

Some may think torturing your breakfast is wrong and if it is than I paid for it when I drank my orange juice after brushing my teeth.  It’s nasty but maybe the raves will stay away for a while.  Well that’s how I start my day.  With Death, Morbid Torture and Sex!