Yeah, well, at least you can trust me with your kids.
So the highlight of my day is how the fuzz picked up one of my coworkers for molesting his 15 year old cousin.
"Well, I'm HOPING he didn't do it."
Well, considering she had a restraining order against him last year, that doesn't look too likely.
I live with my quirks out and proud. Most people do it as a dare, as a sort of, "This is what I am, take it or leave it." I do it just because hiding them away just to fit in with the group is So. Damn. Boring. I have little to no interest in sports, I don't get blackout drunk on weekends, and I don't have a woman in my life that I do nothing but bitch about but won't dump because it beats being alone. And I'm a solitary person anyway -- when those nutjobs avoid me, it lets me read or play my GP2X or whatever without interruption. A couple of coworkers are giving me the cold shoulder. They are finally starting to notice that it not only isn't bothering me, I'm actually enjoying it.
So, I'm considered weird. So was this guy. But this guy was a recreational drug user, and I'm talking the hard stuff, Walter White shit. Tats everywhere. Always looked like the last time he had a shower was two or three days ago. And is a sexual predator.
So, yeah, I'm weird. But I'll take my weird over his any day.
