Killer Fetish

Why do you need so many shoes? Ring a bell, girlies? I bet it does. Men have an annoying tendency to persistently ask this question. They just don’t get it, even after the ladies answer them. Not their fault.  After all, there’s a reason behind the saying men are from mars. Very cheerfully I am going to ignore the other half of the quote.


You guys want to know why we love them so much!? I’ll tell you! But there’s a catch, you see, I want some answers of my own.

Why do you love horror movies so?

The thrill of a kill really does grab you by the throat, doesn’t it? The scarier it is, the funnier you find it! Aren’t there enough things to laugh at otherwise? A nice little joke, mayhap? What’s the obsession with blood? If it’s the color you like, I’d suggest you go get yourself some paint.  If it’s dead bodies which give you happy tingles, I dare say a visit to a morgue should satisfy you.

Pray tell me, gentlemen, would your sensibilities take exception to lesser blood? The person dies any which way, how does it matter how it happens. A bullet is too clean for your refined tastes I’d be forced to presume. Considering the happy noises you make are louder when the kill is more inventive, so to speak.

You guys like horror? Well, it’s your call. You want to watch it at night, lights out, full volume? Go ahead, do so. I don’t get the craze, but if you like it, so be it. After all, I’d like to think I am a reasonable, level headed female who respects the complexities and diversities of human choices. I like sappy-crappy romantic comedies. I am sure many would make faces at their very mention. I don’t mind. It’s my choice and as long as I like it, that’s what counts.

So, yeah, you should watch as many horror flicks as you want. My question to you is very simple. Would your heart not forgive you, gentlemen, if you not force us, humans with rather sweeter tastes, if I may be pertinent enough to say so, to watch them, too?

Perhaps you don’t do so. Perhaps you’d rather watch it alone. I can’t, in the name of fairness, speak for all males. But the ones I know, well, they sure as hell love forcing me to watch horror flicks with them.

If I don’t watch it, well, turning up the volume to noise pollution level sounds like a damn good option to them. Where’s the civic sense gone, my dear neighbors? Why aren’t you complaining? Just a matter of dialing a few numbers! Please do, I’ll even testify, provided family/friend loyalty doesn’t butt heads with my civic sense.

They have other options if the volume thingy fails to annoy me. Options like telling me, in exquisite details about the story, emphasis on the kill. What difference does it make, pray explain to me, if details are overlooked? I do not want to know that the person poked a screw through and across someone’s eye. It’s disgusting and what why you find you applause worthy is beyond me. But I ready to be nice and listen with one ear. Want to recount the story a hundred times to me? Be my guest. It would help, truly, if someone explains to me just why the recounting has to be accompanied by a laugh? Trust me I don’t need to hear a loud laugh to know how gleeful you are at the person’s death.

Coming back to the questioned I promised to try and answer.


Shoes are a thing of beauty. We don’t have them because we need them. We have them because we want them. That should be easy enough to understand. We want them, we have them. Repeat that in your head until you get it. Meanwhile, allow me to enlighten you about shoes as we know it.

Like many beautiful things, they’re good only from a distance. Meant to be gawked at, they are. Comfort doesn’t come into play. Sure we can walk miles in heels, if we so choose. We won’t like doing it, though. The reason isn’t hard enough to guess, I figure. All girls will attest to it that even the most comfortable heels hurt—real bad! You know what? They kill!

Ever heard of the term killer shoes? Like the awesome ones? If looks could kill, sigh! Let me tell you it’s not just the look that kills. They kill the feet, literally. We still wear them. This should tell you how much we love them! So, stop asking us why we need so many of them.

Each shoe is different. It has its own beauty. We appreciate that beauty.

Also, it doesn’t hurt to coordinate the shoes with dresses. Unlike you guys who wear the same shoes all the freaking time. Don’t you get bored of it?

We are funny, contrary creatures aren’t we, fellow earthlings, males and females alike? Perhaps it’s these contradictions that add flavor to life. One thing is common, though, men and women both love killers—just the different kinds.

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