But I'm a creep

In honor of the Radiohead concert next week, all the headlines from now to then will be lines from their expansive library of songs. And because Radiohead has such a wide variety of songs encompassing subjects as exile and robots, I'm sure I'll be able to find a line that will fit every occasion. That being said, let's talk about why I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo.

I'm not, I just like weird things, I suppose. You could make the argument that staring at someone's online networking profile and studying their interests for several minutes at a time simply just to deduce some small tidbit of information about their personality and behavior. I do this for two reasons, I suppose. One, to prove that reading Sherlock Holmes stories and watching rereuns of House have not gone to waste. I love pretending like I know something about deductive reasoning. I'm probably not giving myself enough credit, seeing as how I actually have deduced correctly based on little evidence. Two, I like to think every human being has some unique characteristic or trait within them, whether it be they have a thirst for blood and a hunger for flesh, or they like to play the tuba. And on social networking sites, people often put their interests and activities they do, which leads me to believe I can figure them out by just their Myspaces and Facebooks alone. I'm wrong half the time, but that's beside the point. I rationalize it as "Data collection and prediction."

But weirdness is a virtue. If everyone's named John Q. Vanilla, where's the excitement? A world without weirdness would probably be like Idaho, to be honest with you. Dull and uniform throughout. But I suppose there's a fine line between weird and creepy.

Would you call stalking a 32 year old, redheaded, simply sensationally stunning, snappy dressing, history teacher creepy? Well, not for my age group. But I rationalize it as boyish fantasies. But then again, she's also the perfect woman. Older, experienced, extremely intelligent and well-versed in history, and the kicker: RED HAIR AND GLASSES. Jesus christ. Shame she's married. See? It's things like that would be called creepy but I merely brush off as adolescent dreaming. Besides I know plenty of people who would agree with me, including others who lust after their middle-aged, potbellied, balding English teachers. Now THOSE people are the sickos ;)

What am I saying? I honestly have no idea. I guess my point is that there's weird, there's creepy, then there's DAMN. Weird is break-dancing with a cantalope smuggled underneath your skirt and a smallmouth bass sucking on your head. It's different, hilarious, and unique, though admittedly attention-whoring. Creepy is a 40 year old man going to a teen movie alone and watching attentively. And DAMN is whatever you want it to be, baby.

PS. I found that I can sing like Thom Yorke, when he hits the high notes by squeezing on my testicles with a vice grip. And I can sound exactly like Rush's frontman using this method as well.