The other day I was bored. Now, this isn’t very surprising, because I am usually bored. But at the same time I’m insufficiently motivated to do anything about it. But not this time. I decided to walk down to my local pier and try some fishing.
 
I have this old fishing pole, and when I got it out of the garage, I was surprised that the reel still worked. I guess the last time I used it (I don’t remember) I had hooked the line to one of the loops, and then reeled it tight. It was still like that.
 

 
I just grabbed it as it was. I figured even if I walked down to the pier, and the hook fell off after the first cast, I’d just walk back home. I’d kill at least an hour that way.
 
I passed by a liquor store that also sold bait. I bought a six pack, hoping I’d cast it out there, sit until I finished all six, and then reel it in and come home.
 
First cast, the hook didn’t seem to fall off. I also had a small weight on there. They don’t allow overhead casting at the pier, but I still managed to get it out there pretty far. And as it slowly sank, when it rested on the bottom it was about halfway from where it’d splashed in the water.
 

 
Now, I don’t know anything about fishing. I know there’s different fish in different types of water, and different types of ways to get your bait to rest at various depths, but I didn’t know any of that. I didn’t even know the likelihood of a fish deciding to swim down to the bottom and take a bit of some cheese.
 
I just figured I’d drink my sixer (which was almost certainly illegal) and then walk on home. By then I’d be sufficiently buzzed so that whatever was on Netflix would be passably entertaining.
 
I finished all six in about thirty minutes. There were some creepy looking guys that were fishing near me, and it was getting chilly, so I kind of hurried up a bit. All the hot bikini girls I’d hoped to see where nowhere in sight.
 

 
But as I reeled my line in, it felt a little heavy. I know some fish bite but don’t fight, but I didn’t think that was in saltwater. I was kind of worried I would have a fish, because I certainly didn’t want to have to clean it and eat it. I don’t even like fish. (Except maybe the Fish Filet at McDonalds.)
 
But when I reeled it in, there was a clump of seaweed on there. No biggie, I thought, I’ll just pull them off the chuck ’em back into the ocean.
 
But when I removed the seaweed, there was this hunk of metal. I looked at it, and it looked like some kind of pendant or something. It was pretty dirty, and it had a lot of gunk stuck in there, but it was pretty heavy. And in my inebriated state, I thought it might be worth something.
 

 
I went home and Googled how to clean clumps of metal you find at the bottom of the ocean. It said to mix some baking soda and water and let it sit overnight. So I did that.
 
And in the morning, it was clean. It looked like silver, I mean the color was silver, but I didn’t know if it was painted or some other kind of metal like silver. I know as much about metal as I do about fishing.
 
It was this small pendant, about a half inch in diameter. Kind of like this start, with a couple if intertwined shapes in the middle, that kind of looked like roots. I figured it was some kind of Wiccan symbol that some body dropped. I think there’s a shop on main street that sells those kinds of things.
 

 
But went down there to get a chain, the lady working there looked at me kind of funny. I told her that I’d found it while fishing the day before, but I don’t think she believed me. She helped me pick a chain, but she wouldn’t let me pay for it.
 
I thought she was trying to hit on me, so I kind of hung around to talk to her. Maybe find out more about witches or whatever. Another thing I don’t know anything about. But as soon as I took the chain, she told me she was really busy. Actually walked me to the door and put up the “closed” sign behind her.
 

 
I guess it was her lunch time or something. I suppose if you are the only person working in a shop, and you have to go out for lunch, you’ve got to close the place. So I put my new necklace on and went about my day, which is what I do pretty much every day. Not much.
 
Since the insurance settlement came in, I don’t need to do much. So I just wander around town. Most people kind of recognize me. I usually wait until four or five before I start drinking. But for some reason, I didn’t feel like drinking. In fact, since I’ve been wearing this necklace, I haven’t drank at all.
 

 
I haven’t slept any either. For the first week or so, I got in bed, turned out the light, only because I figured I’d get tired later. But after a week of lying there for six hours just bored out of my mind, I haven’t bothered even getting into bed.
 
But I don’t get sore or anything either. Usually if I stay up too late, my joints feel like crap the next day. But it feel fine. In fact, I feel healthier than I have in a while.
 
I haven’t tried running or anything, because I’m just so lazy. But I can walk forever, and never get tired. I mean my legs don’t get sore. After I realized this, I tried to see how far I could walk without stopping. I went for four days straight. I shit you not. I brought a backpack with a bunch of food, but I didn’t really need that.
 

 
Just pop into a 7-11, buy something with my ATM card, and keep on walking. I walked down PCH for two days, turned around, and walked back. About a hundred miles out, and a hundred miles back.
 
It’s about 3000 miles across the country, so If I started walking, and just kept going for about 25, 50 miles a day (I haven’t figured out the long stretches without 7-11’s, I still get hungry and thirsty), I could make it across in a couple months.
 
That’s kind of a long term plan. I have another hobby that has presented itself.
 

 
Killing.
 
I have found that I’m particularly fond of killing people. Now, all the way back since grade school, I’ve been a big pussy. I mean if there was even a chance that a fight would break out, I got the hell out of dodge.
 

 
Even those high school fights on Facebook, where kids are wailing the shit out of each other, I can’t really watch. I mean I used to not be able to watch. But now I’m particularly attracted to violence. At first I watched all kinds of violent videos. I couldn’t get enough.
 
But soon, I wanted more. Up close and personal. The first time was kind of sketchy, my hands were shaking, but once I got it over with, it became pretty easy.
 
I just find somebody that the cops won’t care about, stalk them for a couple of days, and then kill them. I usually make sure to plan it out, spending at least three days. I’ve found that’s just as much fun as the killing part itself. The planning part.
 

 
So that’s my new hobby. I stalk people, and plan their murders. I’ve only been doing it for a few months, but I’m start to get bored. I think I’ll up the stakes or something. Kill more people, or create more of a thrill by killing more high profile targets.
 
Of course, I may choose another hobby, or a I may finally decide to walk across the country. Or maybe I’ll walk across country and kill people along the way.
 
One of the things I’ve been toying with is to become the most talked about serial killer of all time. Here’s how I’d do it. I’ll kill people, and then leave some kind of tell-tale mark, so they’ll know it’s me.
 

 
Like maybe cut off both ears and switch them, and sew the back on or something. Then I’ll kill a bunch of people, so when you look at a map of the United States, and put a pin in each murder location, it will spell something out.
 
I haven’t figured what that will be, and it will probably take a few years to pull it off, but when I do, it will be magnificent.
 

 
 
 
 

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