I AM NOT ONE OF YOU. At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself. You’ll say I’m a monster. A sicko. A deranged killer. But I am no monster, I am no sicko, and I am not deranged. I am simply a man who happens to enjoy murdering people in the most violent of ways. So don’t bother reading this if you have a weak stomach, get easily offended, or are simply not interested in the best way to dispose of a dead body. (It’s pigs, by the way. They eat ANYTHING.) My name is Gerald Brittle. I am a serial killer. And this is my memoir.