2001-04-21 :: 3:26 p.m.

Laurie's got herself a stalker, now. Ahh, Spring.

She'd been noticing this creepy man in a hooded sweatshirt and huge aviator glasses milling around her car for the past couple of weeks.
("So the Unabomber is your stalker is what you're telling me?"
"Yes. Shut up.")

He has a pad of paper with him and he keeps taking notes, peeking into her car and taking notes. So she understandably is freaked out. yesterday, he was there again, staring into her car so she gives him dirty looks because she's afraid of confronting the schizo straight on. He then proceeds to scream, "Alright already! You can stop giving me signals now!!"

Laurie books around the corner because she's so scared. She spots her friend who's a cop and calls him over and explains the whole situation with the taking notes and the weird outburst. And the cop goes, "Oh, that guy? That's Charles. He's harmless. He's got a crush on you and takes your pictures."

...the hell?!
("I almost wish he was just a car thief and would just steal my car already! The photo business is just waaaaay creepier!"
"Well, that, and he thinks you're telepathically speaking to him."
"Oh, eeeew.")

What's troubling about this is that a) he's a psycho and I'm worried that he's going to find out where she lives and that b) the fucking cop didn't think this was scary!!!

New York's Finest. You can always count on them.

Another OddGoogle for me today: "hotmama"!!! Yeah!!

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