Friday, May 30, 2008
Growing up, I had a cousin that was about 5 years younger than me (1 year younger than my little brother). For whatever reason, most of my family didn't like him, I am guessing it was because he was "developmentally challenged" (ok, he was "half-retarded", he could tie his own shoes and shit, but was otherwise dumb as a brick and had bevahioural issues), so anyway, my brother and I kind of took him under our wing when we were at family gatherings.
Now, when we were young (I would have been about 10-12), my cousin started to get a little weird. One day we were playing in the attic and he found some "romance novels" of my aunt's. Little fucker couldn't read, but he opened one up and said, "Oh yes...these are the...BLOOOOOOD BOOKS!" He went on to describe in horrifying detail how these Blood Books outlined the ritualistic killing of our female cousins.
So, yeah...Blood Books.