Bitch on the Blog

December 25, 2011

Your Miss Marple to my Watson

Filed under: Friends — bitchontheblog @ 12:35
Tags: , ,

Just had startling thought. Will now have to rethink blossoming career as a crime writer. It’s annoying.

Why would anyone murder anyone?

Let the thought melt. Let its aftertaste linger. Before you jump in with an answer.

It doesn’t make sense. Leaving aside crimes of passion, heat of the moment, perversions, why would I risk execution or sitting my days out in the claustrophobia of a cell because someone has evoked my wrath?

It amounts to that trite, yet true,  “cutting off your nose to spite your face/ shooting oneself in the foot.” The person who might hope to be killed by my own fairly strong hands does not exist. Do I look stupid or something? Why would I give YOU the satisfaction?

Yes, I know it’s Christmas. And my Ode to the Tree, as yet not written, will be forthcoming. However, you can’t blame my brain for fermenting the most profound whilst making pastry.

Back to Bach.




  1. Bah!Humbug too…..
    Happy Yule or whatever you celebrate.

    An interesting juxtaposition that Bach, murder and (choux( pastry……
    Whoever heard of chouxs made out of pastry as my groan creating father would have asked?
    That aside, If I was listening to a piece of music by almost any Bach and was rudely interrupted then I might be capable of murder whether I wanted to commit such a deed or not. MY defense might be that the “balance of my mind was disturbed”

    At least then I might be in an institution where I could learn something skilful.

    Comment by magpie11 — December 25, 2011 @ 17:37 | Reply

    • Balance of one’s mind. Interesting question. Who weights the scales?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:22 | Reply

  2. I think rational people entertain the thought of murder because it is a puzzle, grizzly as it is, and most people like to solve puzzles and fantasize. Then you already mentioned the situations where a rational person might kill someone in self-defense or to protect a loved one or because it’s your job (military).

    I’ve long since given up trying to get inside the head of irrational people to figure our their past or present behavior. Should I ever become irrational or a “freaking psychopath,” I’ll get back to you on why these people might decide to kill their mail carrier, parents, or the random person on the street. 😉

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — December 26, 2011 @ 14:59 | Reply

    • Well, Lorna. I love your observation that there are those who kill legitimately (the military). Makes me ponder. You’d make a good lawyer.

      And remember: The postman only rings twice.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:27 | Reply

  3. Yes, forget the crime writing idea. I’d be very suspicious to have tea at your house. I would say try romantic comedy but well, only some other can vouch for the romantic part. I do know you’re hella funny. Mystery novel writing seems up you alley. That way, you don’t totally abandon crime should you wanna a a bit of blood and gore occasionally. You could solve inconsequential phenomena like, who was the last person to ring your doorbell when you weren’t home, who used the last paper clip at the office and didn’t place a re-stock order…you know, something along those lines. Then, add some fire to it. Say, have the delivery guy be a buffed up hottie and delivers the a batch of paper clips to the sloth who didn’t place the re-order, who might be…ummm…me. 🙂

    Comment by totsymae1011 — December 26, 2011 @ 15:27 | Reply

    • What do you mean you’d be suspicious at having tea at my house? To hide rat poison you need something stronger. Trust me – I am the axe murderer with your daughter’s rolling pin.

      The last person who rang my door bell is a weirdo, lives across the road. He claims to be ex SAS or some such. I described him to the Angel just in case I’ll be found in circumstances not entirely to anyone’s satisfaction: “About mid fifties, red face.” The Angel reckons that that, like a needle and one straw, covers an awful lot of psychopaths.

      How many paperclips do you launch into their useful life every day, Totsy? I count roughly two. On the whole I prefer staples. Not easily undone.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:35 | Reply

  4. Pastry making sounds a bit dangerous…..

    Comment by winsomebella — December 26, 2011 @ 16:16 | Reply

    • Dangerous? It is, Bella, it is. If there is one phrase I hope will be attributed to me in years to come is that the devil makes bad thoughts for busy hands. Because, bear with me and my reasoning, when kneading, say, dough or cleaning the toilet your brain is unoccupied. Enter the devil. He doesn’t pay rent either.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:37 | Reply

  5. Yea, murder! I’m the man you cross the street to avoid. I’m ….

    I was on a riff to find my inner psychopath, when I just heard about the Indiana nine year old who was murdered by a sex offender. I immediately lost my taste for it.

    But I do write maniacally.. I have no pretenses of great authorship; I just spill ink. On Jackson Pollack-ish pages. Is it art, or is it Memorex? But the writing soothes me. And I now can go back to the work of it. The Production! My thought are all ‘asides’. I write parenthetically.

    I DO understand that the writing disorganizes my mind. And in that process of re-learning, I learn again. What would be in the mind of the psychopath: need, obsession, thrill of the kill, power, sex, [evil laugh], [Evil Laugh], [EVIL LAUGH]!

    But my ‘writing voice’ is filled with humor. Puns. Any off beat reference. And love. You’ll see. Or not. I try NOT to make sense. My best writing, such as it is, is in my commenting. Maybe I should call my blog “A Maniacal Commentator”.

    I feel myself going into that state of mind right now, and just the thought of it makes me want to take a long nap. Its only 11:16 AM and I’m exhausted.

    THAT’s the kind of writer I am.

    Thanx for letting me ramble.


    Comment by The Taxi Dog — December 27, 2011 @ 19:22 | Reply

    • Jackson Pollock is the only way to go. Until you hit a tree or a ditch.

      Spill yourself, Taxi Dog. No one should do more so than the one who has stared that tree in the face already.

      Do ramble any time, and thanks for gracing my blog with your attention. I do appreciate it.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:43 | Reply

  6. You may have cornered a market here. I don’t think anyone else posted a blog on murder on Christmas – or at least I haven’t found it yet. Of course I’ve been MIA due to crazy rushing about and therefore find the contemplation of a murder mystery delightful. Perhaps the wrapping lady at the department store will be found in the bow bin. The possibilities of ‘who dunnit’ would be many as lines of people waiting got longer and feet sorer. Ah, the blessings of holidays. Looking forward to the tree saga.

    Comment by writingfeemail — December 28, 2011 @ 03:22 | Reply

    • “The dwarf’s bald shaven shone on wet concrete, as McPherson scouted the scene. The morgue techs were joking, punning on corpus delicati’s and such.

      Tiny pieces of congealed brain stained the hem of his new London Fog trench-coat. Dancer and Prancer stood nearby, muttering.

      “One second he was wrapping presents, and then, BAM!!”, the reindeer said, drying her doe-eyed tears.”

      Like that?

      Comment by The Taxi Dog — December 28, 2011 @ 06:15 | Reply

    • Renee, funny thing is: I love Christmas. On the other hand I have no authority over that mind of mine. If my brain goes the route of murder as the carol singers start it’s my mind’s affair. Nothing to do with me.

      Other than that I love Cluedo (I believe Americans call it ‘Clue’). I love love love clues. Which is why my day job is that of a spy and why Totsy and Phil needle me as to my being cryptic at times. Comes with the job description.

      From Russia with iced love and clanger in hand,
      Ms U trying to locate the Vodka thief

      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 28, 2011 @ 15:58 | Reply

  7. Rage, duty, revenge, frustration, carelessness ( though you were talking about doing it deliberately I suppose), despair – lots of spurs for doing such a stupid thing.

    Comment by blackwatertown — December 30, 2011 @ 23:09 | Reply

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