The creepy guy from Monday night was back again on Tuesday night. I’ve got a really bad feeling about him. He’s about 5′9” with shaggy but not super-long brown hair. He’s in his mid-twenties, thin-ish, and just kinda sits in back near the bar drinking a couple of small drinks and watching everything that’s happening.

The way he acts reminds me of my stalker a bit when he finally found the club I work at, and that really sets my teeth on edge. I’m really just getting this feeling that he’s stalking someone, but I don’t know who. I’ve let the bouncers know about the vibe I’m getting off him, but they’re not going to just throw him out.

I’m getting scared, and if I didn’t need $30,000 by the end of December, plus my living expenses until then, I’d be out of this job in a heartbeat. I’d drop this and run, find another club in some other town to work at. I know God has put me on a path to this school, and that I’ll get there somehow. Right now though, I’m wondering if the road I’m taking is the right way to get there.

I’m going to spend a lot of time today praying about the directions to God’s next destination for me. Do I stay working at this club? Do I leave and work some menial job I’m barely qualified for until January when school starts? How do I get the tuition money together? Is this destination where God wants me to go? If not this design school, then where?

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My friend Crystal posted this photo of creepy, staring guy on Facebook with this caption:

“Total Sicko who stared at me from 125th all the way down to 59th St. To add further insult, kissing sounds were def made as I exited the train. Ques of the day: How does one become the weirdo train guy…”

He definitely deserved a post on my blog! Eww….

Sick of going out (literally, we’d all spent the day in bed with trash cans nearby), my roommates and I decided to have a Saturday night in.  We ordered a late night dinner of greasy Chinese food and gathered around the table – some of us on chairs, some of us on empty kegs, because most of our chairs were broken at our last house party – to load up on MSG and girl time.

The boys who lived next door had been giving us crap all day for skipping out on a “quality party night,” but we didn’t care. The only thing we were gonna be drinking that night was some hot and tasty egg drop soup.

While unpacking the 4 bags of food, I looked out the window and waved to the neighbors doing beer bongs in their kitchen. We were separated by only a driveway, so we could see and hear everything going on in eachothers’ houses. (Which, by the way, we learned the hard way when we were going on and on… and on about how hot they were…and they heard the entire thing.)

Anyways, while making eyes at one of the boys in the kitchen, I noticed one of the other boys standing on our driveway on his cell phone. I started banging on the window and screaming.

“Hey Matt! Matt! Get off the phone and come play with us!” My roommates gathered around me and joined me in heckling Matt. We were banging, screaming and pretending to flash him to get his attention.

Matt turned around.

“Ha! He’s pretending to jack off.” I started laughing. “Matt, that’s gross. Get off the phone and come over!”

That’s when one of my roommates noticed something odd.

“Uh, I don’t think he’s pretending.”

We all paused and stuck our faces a little closer against the window.

“Uh, guys, I don’t think that’s Matt.”

Two of my roommates ran to the front door and peered around the porch. Then came back into the house screaming.

“OH MY GOD! His pants were around his ankles.”
“I just saw a penis!”
“That wasn’t Matt!”

More screaming.

By the time we all ran back to the window, “Matt” was gone. And by “Matt” I mean the masturbating man that had been surprising women all over campus for months. I’m not sure why I automatically assumed that a large man with a sweater pulled up over his face was my neighbor, nor why any man would get his rocks off on a group of hungover girls scarfing down some mooshu, but I did know that I wasn’t hungry for my dinner anymore.

We called the cops who quickly came to “collect evidence” off of my roommate’s car. When the police left (after telling us to stay in the house and lock the doors), we ran to the neighbor’s house to tell them the story. Most laughed at the idea of a creepy masturbator doing his business while 8 girls banged on the window and waved at him. The real Matt, however, never could understand how we mistook an old dude with his penis in his hand for his 6′4, good looking self.

Pantyhose Model? WTF? This is definitely an ad out of Kentucky. No doubt our man photog is lonely, has a fetish and entirely too much free time.  You own an electronics shop in Louisville? Time to set up the “panty” cam on all the creepy ass suspect employees that bring “gym bags” to work. I wish Brandy or Halle Berry were driving in the neighborhood on the day he wrote this nonsense.  Prepare yourself for all of  the hot mess “models” looking like Grimace from McDonalds who stroll in wanting to be “great”.  Remember,  Tyra Banks always says ” A top model has to be able to smile with her eyes (and her prominent forehead).  Who in the hell has made it big doing topless pantyhose jobs?  Pantyhose Model (Louisville, KY)
Date: 2009-08-
Reply to: job-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

——————————————————————————–

Popular Pantyhose website looking for female models to photo shoots. Full nudity is not required, but at least topless. Pay depending on number of shoots, looks and amount of skin shown. If you want to get into the industry, this is a great gateway. Lots of models that began here and gone on to BIG things.

Email at least 2 sample pictures when responding to this ad. Serious inquires only please.

•Location: Louisville, KY
•Compensation: $150/hour
•Principals only. Recruiters, please don’t contact this job poster.
•Please, no phone calls about this job!
•Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

It’s a well-known fact that guys will go home with just about anything when they’re drunk.  It’s not that they’re desperate, they’re just…well, guys.  And guys like sex.  So it’s not surprising that you don’t exactly have to be a genius/supermodel to have a special (or not-so-special) one-night engagement with a dude at the bar.

However, women are a different story.

As much as we sometimes want to have some crazy sex, we have standards.  We won’t go home with just anybody.   In fact, there are some guys that we’ll never go home with.  Sorry dudes, but if you’re on this list you may want to consider celibacy.

In no particular order, here are the guys you probably aren’t going to be taking home to bump uglies with any time soon (hopefully):

Sweaty, Smelly Guy

It can get hot in the bar.  Especially when there is dancing (and when I’m there, there is always dancing).  However, there’s always that one guy busting a move in the middle of the dance floor who everyone seems to be avoiding.  Then you see it: the dark stain spreading across his back, the beads of perspiration rolling down his face.  He’s wiping his brow with his sleeve and pushing his hair off his forehead (leaving him in a Something About Mary situation).

You’re scared to even go near him, lest some sweat fly off him and land on your face or worse, in your drink.  Definitely not conducive to an invitation home.

Guy Making Out With Everyone Else At the Bar

This dude is a fun one to watch, but don’t let him get within a two foot radius of you or you’ll find his tongue in your mouth.  He’s tipsy, indiscriminate, and a make-out whore.  This is the guy that will probably give all your friends Herpes after licking their faces (he thinks that’s totally sexy, btw).  I

f he’s between ladies when you bump into him, you’ll recognize him by his Christian Audigier outfit and excessively gelled hair.  In fact, you may even smell him as soon as you step into the bar, because he pretty much bathes in Axe body spray.

Creepy Creeper Guy

I can see him now…clutching his drink, eyes narrowed and staring, and wearing clothes that don’t quite fit the bar atmosphere (oversized short-sleeve button down, anyone?).  This is the dude that makes you feel more than slightly uncomfortable when you’re breaking it down with your friends.  His eyes will follow you around that dance floor, but even if you’re shoved right up next to him by some freak crowd accident, he still won’t talk to you.  He’s just gonna sit there and hold his drink while staring at all the dancers. If you actually do get him to talk (although why you would, I have no idea), be warned that he’s probably a mumbler and will say something odd about a hobby of his or give you a creepy compliment.  Unfortunately, due to his excessive creepiness, Mr. Stares Too Much probably won’t have anyone to bring home to see his doll collection.

Oversized Bouncer With Neckbeard

We’ve all been stuck outside a club staring down a massive hulk of a man called a bouncer.  Thoughts, crazy thoughts, fly through our heads as we imagine the alcohol-fueled hijinks that are going on inside without us.  Should we flirt with him to get in sooner?  Tip him?  Flash him?!  Wait – slow down a second.  This dude has a neckbeard.  And more body mass than you and your friends put together.  What could a few more minutes of waiting hurt?  The real danger is later when Mr. Bouncer Man is off duty and creeping through the club for some ladies.  By that time you’ve had a couple drinks and appreciate his all-black ensemble.  However, there’s no way you’re gonna get past your reservations about his neck roll and douchebag diamond earring.  Mr. Bouncer Man is going home alone tonight.

Older Guy Who Doesn’t Really Belong At the Bar

Is he a professor? Someone’s dad?  Just a creepy old dude?  You never can tell with this one.  Homie came to the bar because he wants to score some young hotties and too bad for him because we’re not gonna take any part in that.  You may brush  past him at one point and recognize the same cologne that your dad wears.  And he’s definitely sporting some Tommy Bahama up in there.

Oh yeah, and that’s probably a wedding band he’s surreptitiously slipping off his finger to hide in his pocket (right next to the pictures of his kids).  Unless you have a strange Daddy Fantasy, then Older Guy will have to finish his whiskey soda and go home alone.

There are things in this world that are chocked full of contradictions.  Ants.  They’re small but can lift many times their own body weight.  Atomic Bombs.  Relatively small but the devastation they unleash is amazingly powerful.  The Mini Cooper.  Such a tiny car outside yet so roomy on the inside even my chubby self can see comfortably with out complaining muttering under my breath ”this seat is to damn small I can’t drive comfortably.” 

Now I have one more item to add to that category.  Me.  I’m a living contradiction and I’ve finally accepted this evening.  It’s something I’ve had to deal with for years so I supposed I’ll just have to roll with the punches.  The problems I have is that kids love me.  I mean really, really really love me.  If you set me and five other adults in a room with a bunch of kids I’ve never met before they will slowly gravitate to me.  Now I don’t do anything to earn this attention.  Kids just sort of see me as a bigger version of themselves someone once told me.  They might me right.  I’m always the one running around the party getting chased by a gang of children.  Can’t remeber the last time  I was at a gathering where kids were present where I actully got to sit down with the adults and eat a hamburger off the grill.  I always get “Wanna play soccer?”, “do you like pokemon”, or my all time favorite “Do you like video games.” 

Side note: I love when a kid asks me the “video game” question.  First I play dumb.  “I don’t know.  I’m a little old to play these crazy video games but I’ll give them a try” I start off saying.  But once the Xbox starts up I crush them in what ever game they pop in.  Guess you could say I  video game hustle.  Relax, we’re not playing for money.  Kids that age don’t have any cash on them anyways. 

Happens all the time.   Even while shopping I get the child looking at me giggling as their mom pushes them around in a cart.  I can see a child screaming it’s head off in a tempertanntic fury over not getting their way and once they take one look at me they instantly go into a good happy mood.  And no, I’m not trying to make these kids laugh either.  Quite honestly I try to ignore them.  Would you want some baby laughing it’s ass off at you where ever you go? 

“So what’s the other side that makes this a contradiction?” you’re probably asking.  Well hold on I’m getting to that.  I’ve got chubby finger and I’m typing as fast as I can here.

The flip side of have strangers’ kids not fear me is the parents.  The children  think I’m a big kid and assume I’m friendly so they start to laugh or say hi.  Well the Mom turns around and see me not as Mr Friendly as her kid is but rather as Mr. Big Scary Creepy guy whose making her kid giggle using Big Creepy guy means to do so.  Usually I get the dirty look of “what are you saying/doing to my kid” 

Over the years I’ve gotten tired of saying “listen lady your toddler is laughing at me.  I’m just standing here” so I just give the mother a mean look and walk away.  Let her think I’m Mr. Big Scary Creepy guy.  I know the truth is I’m the one person in the entire store that would dive in front of a runaway car to protect their kid outside in the parking lot. 

Tonight after work I had another Mr. Big Scary Creepy guy episode. 

I was sitting out front of the apartment adding a bit more potting soil to my pepper boxes after work.  They pepper plants have grown a bit larger than I expected so adding a extra bag of soil amongst them would be good.  So as I was all dirty with my soil at my side and armed  with my mini shovel working on my crop and I hear two little girls talking.  I didn’t think anything of it at first.  Just two kids  riding by on their bikes.  No reason to even look up from my farmerly duties that I was in the middle of.  But the voices did travel on down the road like they should have.  They still came from 15 feet away right in front of where I was sitting. 

These two little girls had the ENTIRE street to stop and talk boys but they get off their bikes right smack dab in front of me.  I’m thinking ”get on your dam bikes and keep gong”  but they stood there talking to each other for a good five minutes.  Did I mention they had the entire street?   I’m the only other person outside and they’ve set up gossip shop close enough if I farted they could smell it.  Hell they could feel the gastric breeze. 

As they chit chatted and I wished they’d go away I heard someone shouting down the road.  I look up and a few house down comes a woman, who I assume was their mother, yelling “Get over here now!!!!!!!  Get away from there!!!!!!!” as she called her little girls home.  There was that panicked tone in her voice that I’ve come to recognize oh so well.  It’s that “STRANGER STRANGER STRANGER” tone of a mother hen rushing to protect their babies.

As the little kids biked home and I got a scornfull look from mommy dearest as If I was on some sort of pervert list she’d found online ( I’m not I assure you)  I wanted to yell back “listen lady you need to watch you kids better because they won’t always stop in front of a good guy’s place.” Oh well.  All I can do is keep one eye on kids whose parents aren’t watching them and another eye out for those strangers who are the real Mr. Big scary creepy guys.

One more thing, please look at this site.  It will help you find real sex offenders you should be on the look out for in your area.  www.familywatchdog.us.  Now stop thinking I’m the bad guy now that you know where real bad guys live.

I spend a lot of time at the grocery store. I’m not even bothered by this chore. I know the grocery store like the back of my hand so I can put myself on auto-pilot and cruise my blue cart around (the red ones suck).  I like having a list and collecting the items at my own leisure. However, there is one thing I do not like about the grocery store. And that is the creepy cashier that thinks it’s appropriate to hit on innocent ladies in their line. I am usually successful at avoiding said guy, but today was a big FAIL.

I completed my grocery shopping and was going to pay for my small haul of food. Naturally, I made a bee-line (get it bee) for the express register with the nice older lady. Unfortunately, there was someone in front of me and the creepy cashier next to me said “Oh, I can take you over here, miss.”

Bee: Oh, right. Cool.

What else could I have said. Thanks, but no thanks I’d rather wait here? 

I wish I had the nerve to say something like that. But I told myself I only had eleven groceries. How much could he say to me? HA! A whole heck of a lot.

So creepy guy went to my high school and had graduated a year or two ahead of me. He was awkward and had God awful teeth. You could only classify him as an opossum.

Hey... wanna date???

Creepy Guy: Hey, did you go to high school around here?

Bee: Uh, yeah.

Creepy Guy: What’s your name? I knew you looked familiar.

Bee:…Bee.

Creepy Guy: Last name?

Yeah. At this point I should have told the kid to go scratch, but for some reason I couldn’t think of a way to covertly deflect this question so I told him my last name. This was also partly due to the fact that he had still only managed to scan one grocery. And now creepy guy is going to look me up on facebook. Lucky me.

Creepy Guy: Hey, did you know the new Transformers movie just came out?

Bee: Uh. No. That’s cool.

Creepy Guy: Yeah. I wish I had someone to go with.

Bee:………

Creepy Guy: What are you doing tonight?

SERIOUSLY? Are you allowed to try to pick up chicks while working at the grocery store? In an express lane? When there is a nice old lady waiting to be checked out behind the girl you are trying AND FAILING to pick up???

Bee: (panicked) Oh, um. Dinner with the fam… and stuff.

Creepy Guy: Well, a nice girl like you should be hanging out with your friends or your boyfriend.

YES! Success! Boyfriend. I could make him think I have a boyfriend.

Bee: Oh, well, I usually do and probably will. But have fun at the movies tonight.

I loathe creepy dudes. I walked out of the grocery store wanting to vomit. Ugh.

LOVE (only for those of you who are non-creepy, well, and I’ll include L),

Bee

New song here.

Well, first of all I promise I’m not some deranged lunatic.

I just got it in my head the other day that I should do some kind of A Capella ditty, not because my voice warrants that kind of treatment, but more because it’s a great way to write songs.  It has that same kind of spontaneity in recording, and is really challenging at the same time.  So what to sing about?  Well.

I decided, first of all, I’m not going to do yet another lamentation on love unrequited.  That’s just been done to death, and honestly I don’t have it in me since, by all measures, things are pretty good here on that front.  So I went back to my youth: what’s a great thing to sing about when you don’t have any other ideas?  Child abduction, of course.  Wha?   It’s a long story, but yeah, for various reasons (none of which are really worth getting into), that seems to be a kind of role that is fun to play for a singer.  I knew I wanted this one to have sort of a middle-eastern-tribal-cum-Josquin Desprez sort of feel, and since I don’t know how to sing in Farsi, I figured why not just do something a little insane.  And so I did, and it is.

Take it or leave it, I think it turned out appropriately creepy, and was fun to do, although the last thirty seconds of it are pretty sloppy.  I am pleased with the lyrics, which are here:

hello little girl
would you like some candy
(cause my candy is really very handy
many flavors & many brands)
i noted you as you approached the van

oh no she got away
(where did she
where did she go now)

I’m just overjoyed that I finally seem to have found a good way to keep the high-end of my vocals without sacrificing too much gain.  That took me, 0h, around two months to figure out, and now of course I want to go back and fix all the previous stuff I’ve done, but I’ll save that for later.

Anyway, where did the time go?  I started this jig at 12:30, and now it’s almost 3:00 in the morning.  Bye now!

Uh…hi.  This is awkward.  Loot at me, shuffling my feet.  I’m sorry I stopped talking to you for awhile.  But I mean, come on guys, it’s not like I’M the creepy guy who turned out to be a rapist.  That was all you.  ALL YOU.

Anyway, now that we’re reacquainted and back to being BFFLssss, I’d like to give you a bit of an update of what’s going on here at The Worst:

Sadly, we’ve lost Michael.  I think we actually lost Michael months ago, when he only wrote three posts.  But anyway, I’m officially kicking him out.  If he (or anyone else, I’m always taking ideas!) wants to write a guest post, I’m all for it…but for now, you guys are stuck with me and my ridiculousness.  Get over it.  And I’m keeping the banner picture, because it’s the shit, obv.

Now for actual posts.  I’m thinking of integrating more of myself into them…mainly because the only people that read this thing are people that know me and, let’s face it, I’m so damn interesting (I am not interesting).  You guys always want to know what I’m up to (you never want to know what I’m up to).  Not to worry, I will not talk about things like my nickel allergy, or how my 11-year-old sister continues to beat me up, or my grandmother’s racial insensitivities.  Or maybe I will, because those thing are kind of funny.  But right now I’m making a video from Sean’s and my road trip from Iowa City to New York and I just can’t think of anywhere else to put it except The Worst.  Whenever I can, I will try to include some type of media along with what I’m talking about.  You know, blogging.

Anyway, as my dad always says, “Keep a cool weiner” (I really wish he didn’t say that).  It’s going to be a busy summer, but I’ll update as much as possible.  Keep checking back for new posts!

Chelsea

I am trying to figure out how in the hell  I can get in on this.  Get paid 20 bucks an hour to hang out with some creepy, hairy, no game having dudes. This means leech off  their bottle at the club, ride in the limo for free, act a drunk slutty mess and turn my head when he tries to kiss me.  I think I’ve already done enough research for this role.

And you would already see me out with these douchebags  if I didn’t have to try and squeeze my size 11 dogs into 5″ spiked heel. What? Me modest? Look…you think these guys want some boring Suzy homemaker looking chicks partying when they’re in town on “business”.  Nope, he’s thinking ; video ho, alcohol and pound town.  Guess what? With all the silicone breasts, fake lashes, freakum dresses, bad make up, terrible hair extensions and lucite heel wearing wanna be star fuckers in this town, I think his mailbox is going to be flooded!  Bring a friend ladies!

Get Paid to Party!!
Reply to: job-XXXXXXX@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-04-16

Get paid to party!!! Seeking very attractive and fun ladies in their 20s to join our clients for a night out to party. Attend the hottest clubs and restaurants in town and get paid for it!! This is NOT an Escort service. It is simply entertaining our young and affluent clients in a public setting. This is an ongoing gig. Those interested please submit a headshot/full shot for consideration. Please submit Non-professional photos. Feel free to contact us with questions.

* Location: Los Angeles
* Compensation: $20 Per Hour.
* Principals only. Recruiters, please don’t contact this job poster.
* Please, no phone calls about this job!
* Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

Before this, we thought Easter was all about egg hunts, candy and going to church just to make your mom happy. But for these (probably mentally unstable) dudes, it means dressing up in creepy bunny costumes and freaking us out. Seriously, ladies, if any of these dudes offer you candy, don’t even think about eating it.

(Click thumb to view full image)

So I go to a drive-thru fast food place the other night. I order some burgers and drive to the next window, the total comes to $10.30. I have a ten ready so I give that first and then start to look for some change in my pants pockets. The drive-thru guy leans out the window and says “Hold on while I get some popcorn, I want to watch.” I stop and look at him and reply, “It’s not that kinda show buddy.” I give him the change and drive on.

I am simultaneously impressed, and disgusted.

Impressed, because this is the first really creepy guy that I’ve encountered so far in Sheffield. Disgusted, because Sheffield was doing so well, damn it! And also because his excuses, although ingeneous, were frankly bizarre.

To set the scene – I was on my way home, walking up West Street (a big main road, full of bars and buses), when two teenage girls walked quickly past me, closely followed by a man who was in his forties at least. The I’ve-been-pickled-in-alcohol, leathery-faced kind.

He was being bloody weird, and so, donning my humourless feminist mantle, I turned round and shouted out to the girls to ask whether he was bothering them (“yes”) and whether they knew him (“no”).

He was still trying to follow them, so my next – loud – question was “do you want me to call the police?”

It’s amazing how quickly you can get a creepy man’s attention doing that. So he walked back to argue with me, and the girls quickly disappeared. And we had an exchange that involved the following statements from him:

• He doesn’t want to be on the front page of The Star (South Yorks newspaper).
• I shouldn’t “lump him in with… them” because he has a wife. And daughters.
• He knew those girls really.
• He’d had a drink.

Call me hard to please, but I personally wasn’t impressed by any of those things. But presumably he was impressed by me, because he really was very insistent that he didn’t want to be in the paper. Perhaps I looked like a journalist. Or an undercover police officer, moments away from radioing for backup. Or a superhero, with the mandatory cleavage-enhancing PVC outfit. It must have been quite disappointing for him when I turned and walked away, still wearing my hoodie and jeans.

Fourteen days into January, and most of us have probably spent more time at the gym this year than we have in our entire adult lifetimes.

The resolutions, they are upon us, and we have decreed: this year we will lose the weight! At least until the free gym membership runs out, right? Or until we just can’t stand that creepy guy at the ab machine…

Source:
http://www.heartlessdoll.com/2009/01/10_most_annoying_people_at_the_gym.php

Genre: Drama

Tagline: To get her son back she did what no one dared.

Ebert gave it:

How do you know when a movie will get an Oscar nomination and the director will be a front runner when the nominations come out? Well, besides the Golden Globe nominations already coming out…? When Clint Eastwood is the director, the movie has a powerful and emotional plot and there is a strong female lead (I know Mystic River didn’t have the last one…but 3 strong males is good enough). Eastwood likes to direct movies about women who don’t give up, women who have something to fight for and movies that twist and turn to keep you on an emotional rollercoaster and the ending in the dark.

The Changeling is set in the 1940s, and opens on ___ (Jolie) and her son Walter. As a single mom she works hard as an operator at a telephone company (where she gets to wear rollerskates AND dark lipstick everyday!). One day she  gets called into work last minute with no one to take care of Walter. Upon her return he’s gone, sending her into a spiral of sadness and the only thing keeping her going is the search for her son. In an election year, the police chief miraculously finds her son – a few inches shorter, heavier, and with a few other things out of order. Instead of being happy for the replacement she fights harder – landing her in the mental ward being threatened with shock treatment and being turned into a vegetable. Lucky for her she has a friend in the fight, a minister  Rev. Gustav Briegleb (Malkovich) who preaches her story to everyone.

Along the way we meet other evil beings, Gordon Northcott (Jason Butler Harner) for example who keeps the audience guessing until the very end, which trust me, will keep you on your toes till the credits roll.

The unique thing about The Changeling isn’t the amount of pain and distress you as an audience member feels, but who you feel things for.  I’m keeping this post short because I don’t want to ruin anything.

My Rating:

I give it 2 flasks, mainly for making me feel feelings that movies rarely evoke, plus Jolie gives a  phenomenal performance as a grieving yet hopeful mother. This movie is a definite nominee for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actress.

Well, school has been going well. So far I haven’t managed to come too close to failing any of my grad classes. This is good because I am doing my best not to. I have a big Foundations test next Tuesday, so Verge updates may be a bit sparse during the coming week.

Also, I am glad to say that I finally got Xubuntu to run smoothly. It still has hiccups every once in a while, but the good news is that I have it running and running reliably. And, upon reconsideration, a proprietary OS would probably have given me as much trouble (albeit in different areas).

So yeah, check out Sabraeal’s Post about the creepy guy from the gaming club. He’s pretty much a collosial jerk. I do not like him.

Zane is the series that features the adventures of my friend Zach and me.  It first began as just doodling during classes.  This is the plan for Zach and my Halloween costume for this year…Siamese twins.  We decided we would have to go to Wal-Mart to find clothes that would fit the both of us.  And clown shoes.  The other accessories (mustache, cat whiskers, spinning hat etc.) are just added for hilarity.  I hope it insues.

There is a classmate in Zach and my Bible as a Literature class, who will turn and stare at us constantly throughout class.  He is named Creepy Guy.  We decided one day to count…he stared 12.5 times in the matter of 50 minutes.  Not even glaring at him will stop him.  The Devil and Angel were made in response to Zach’s request that I draw characterizations of the counterparts Good and Evil.