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I've never told anyone this, but once as a child I found a nest of baby mice in my grandmother's garage. They were so young that they were all still pink, and their eyes were just little black dots. I got a pair of scissors and cut all of their heads off. (USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)
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Oct 17, 2014 14:30
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Cardiovorax posted:Not legally speaking. I think I was 4. I know it was before I was old enough for preschool, because my gmom was watching me, but I don't know how old I was before I could use scissors. I don't know what my motivation was. I don't think it was for fun; I had a weird fascination with gore. I used to take Christmas ornaments off the tree, then hide in the corner and just break them in my hands. My mom would find me squatting behind the couch, covered in my own blood, and throw a fit. I've since grown out of all of that.
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Oct 23, 2014 20:50
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Once, at Easter, I had one of those drippy, translucent orange water pistols, and kept squirting my aunt with it. She warned me, "Stevie, if you squirt me again I'm going to take that gun away." I squirted her again, of course, and she snatched the toy from my hands. I said, "That's alright, I've got a Stevie gun," and I whipped it out and peed on her. She recounts this story gleefully, and often. Kids=kids etc
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Oct 23, 2014 22:39
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