Stalker
I have a fucking stalker. I'm not talking about the overly interested leave-ten-thousand-messages-on-your-cellphone kinda harmless female stalker, I'm talking about a crazy talks-to-god 30 year old man kind of stalker.
It all started a few days ago when this cross-eyed crazy guy stopped me and started talking to me about religion and history and the origin of words and tons of random shit. He talked and mumbled at a billion miles per hour flinging little bits of spittle that formed at the corners of his mouth into my face for about ten minutes before i finally just walked away. He was telling me about the history of names and asked for my name, which i told him, thinking he was totally harmless.
So I find out that he must have followed me home from a distance and he showed up at the sunflower house (aka "dirty shit hole" [more on that later]). He asked for a tour and an application to live there. He came back for his interview today and really freaked the shit out of all the residents (which is saying something because most of them freak the shit out of me). Apparently he prayed to god for the answers on this questionare that they gave him, and god spoke to him and gave him all the answers. He also bragged about how methodist he was and asked if they allow drugs alcohol and pre-merridal sex among other things.
Anyway, now I have all these mental pictures of him coming into my room at night and stabbing me to death with a giant crucifix, or possibly a chainsaw with a portrait of the virgin mary painted on the blade.
Wait ... hold on ... my everything-will-be-ok personality just kicked back in and i'm not that concerned about it anymore. I'm sure it will be alright.
It all started a few days ago when this cross-eyed crazy guy stopped me and started talking to me about religion and history and the origin of words and tons of random shit. He talked and mumbled at a billion miles per hour flinging little bits of spittle that formed at the corners of his mouth into my face for about ten minutes before i finally just walked away. He was telling me about the history of names and asked for my name, which i told him, thinking he was totally harmless.
So I find out that he must have followed me home from a distance and he showed up at the sunflower house (aka "dirty shit hole" [more on that later]). He asked for a tour and an application to live there. He came back for his interview today and really freaked the shit out of all the residents (which is saying something because most of them freak the shit out of me). Apparently he prayed to god for the answers on this questionare that they gave him, and god spoke to him and gave him all the answers. He also bragged about how methodist he was and asked if they allow drugs alcohol and pre-merridal sex among other things.
Anyway, now I have all these mental pictures of him coming into my room at night and stabbing me to death with a giant crucifix, or possibly a chainsaw with a portrait of the virgin mary painted on the blade.
Wait ... hold on ... my everything-will-be-ok personality just kicked back in and i'm not that concerned about it anymore. I'm sure it will be alright.