Men, Women and Chainsaws

Have you ever been stalked? I don't really know if this qualifies in the true meaning of the word "stalk," but there's a way on Friendster to bookmark people. The default is to do it without them seeing that you've bookmarked them (so you're invisible, in a way). But there's also a box to check if you want the person you're bookmarking to be able to see that you have him/her bookmarked. Okay, so...

For the last, oh, year now, there's a guy on Friendster by the name of Walter who has had me bookmarked so that I can see him. That's not so bad, I mean, the first boy I ever EVER had a crush on was a boy named Walter. I was in the 4th grade and Walter looked like a young Bing Crosby, which means he was really, really nerdy... just the beginning of a long line of my own obsession with brainy geeks. I mean, I think brainy men are hot. And I am always attracted geeky men in a way that befuddles all of my friends. And I truly, madly, deeply adore nerdy, brainy, geeky men. That's not the only kind that I would date, but it does seem to be the only flavor of man that I date long-term and/or marry.

This Walter on Friendster is definitely what one would call geeky. Abso-fucking-lutely. But he is not one of the kind that I would fall for because he also fits into a category of what I call "geeky men who are Unabomber scary." Why? Well, at first glance, maybe not so much. I mean, his opening photo shows him wearing the standard-issue geek glasses and there seems to be a garden gnome in the background:




This is Walter.



Innocuous enough, right? Maybe not. Is that gnome slightly menacing? Perhaps. I mean, I've never trusted the fuckers myself. Certainly wouldn't turn my back on one. But, upon closer inspection of the rest of his photo gallery, I became --as one of my favorite geeky male friends is fond of saying-- completely "skeeved out." You see, in one gallery of pics, Walter has managed to embody two of the films from my childhood that gave me the heebee jeebees for years with residual psychological scars that remain with me today. Those films were Tobe Hooper's 1974 classic THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE and Richard Attenborough's 1978 sleeper MAGIC.

You don't believe me? Here, see for yourself:




"I just can't take no pleasure in killing.
There's just some things you gotta do.
Don't mean you have to like it."




"Abracadabra, I sit on his knee.
Presto, change-o, and now he's me!
Hocus Pocus, we take her to bed.
Magic is fun...we're dead."


If that's not enough for you, I think the weirdest photo of them all is the last one, where he casually reads an old issue of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING magazine:




"Hmm, to remove blood stains from fabric and upholstery..."


Well, I could use a man with a chainsaw this weekend... and a mini Bobcat too, but I think I'll pass on this one. Shallow graves make me claustrophobic.