"Ted, Just Admit It"
Jane's Addiction
Nothing's Shocking
1988
People don't believe me when I tell them that my mom read me Stephen King stories at bedtime. But it's true; I'm sure I was read all the Dr. Seuss classics and what not, but I have no memory of any of them. What I do remember is the scary ass cover of Night Shift with the hand and all the eyes.
Now, along with a lifelong appreciation of Mr. King's stories of suspense and horror, my mother gave me an introduction to the world of serial killers.
As my six year old self understood it, Ted Bundy was a man who was able to kill women because he was super handsome.
Ehh, who cares about that, I thought. Girls, gross. Ted Bundy was not one of my favorites.
I much preferred Richard Ramirez, who killed people (again, according to my mom) because he worshipped Satan and listened to AC/DC.
WELL ALRIGHT.
So somehow I did NOT grow up to be a serial killer, which I think pretty much puts to bed the issue of nature v. nurture.
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