So anit there some kind of rule about this?

Okay, I read a few blogs, so I know how this is suspose to go, I get to post my thing for a while and then wierd shit happens....

I'd figure if Slenderman was real, and I don't, I've have a month before something weird happened.

It's been 3 days...

Let me explain, so there I was at work with a friend of mine named Ryan, we both work there, which occurs to me I didn't say what I did for a living but, meh. So were sitting there chating on a short break in our cubicles when lo and behold, I noticed he has the operator sign, you know the (x) thing? taped to the wall above his moniter.

I don't know if I just never noticed it before or if it was new.

So I didn't think much of it, I mean he's the guy who got me into the whole Slenderman deal in the first place, in what I might add, the most dickish way possible. I'll explain if someone asks about what that means.

So anyways, I ask him about it, I'm all like "Hey cool operator sign you got there Ryan"

I should have noticed how much like shit he looked today, or lately for that matter.

He just kinda looked sheepishly away and muttered "Oh yeah, it's pretty cool, I guess" before turning and starting to pretend to work. Keep in mind this dude is built like a brick house, and that i'm proud to say that i've known him for going on 11 years now, hell he introduced me to my wife, and in turn when he needed one, I pulled strings to get him a job. What I'm trying to say is, Ryan and I go way back, and he was not himself today.

"Something you want to talk about?" I went ahead and asked

"Oh no, I'm fine, everything's fine, no worries" he just replied quietly. Ryan, all 6'5" of him, meekly replied to my question.

Of course that's just the set up for the real weird shit thing to happen at work today. Because i'm not a small guy myself, I'm 6'3" with an alright build, Ryan and I sometimes get called to help with some heavy lifting, good old labor backrounds there, but today, it was my boss asking me to go run some kid in a black hooded sweatshirt out of the parking lot.

So who am I to say no when it comes to running off some teenager who was clearly skipping classes to stare at the building right? I would have chose a mall arcade myself, but to each there own.

I regret it.... god help me I do. I mean the kid wasn't violent, or "Sinister" in any real respect, he just looked... I guess empty, like the wheel was spinning but the hamster killed itself after writing a long winded suicide note to it's parents kind of empty. I mean he had a look on his face like a molestation victim, completely dead on the inside.

I just walked up to him, told him to piss off, and he just turned and walked off, I didn't even get the satisfaction of being told off, or even really responded to, he just turned and walked away. But god did it make me feel, for a lack of a better term, like I was tainted by the whole experience, like a fraction of the emptiness from him seeping onto me. Right now I'm drinking a beer and wangsting about it on my blog, and you guys can't stop me.

Fuck it, I'm still reading up on Make it Count, might get caught up in a few days, but the big game is coming up and I got money on it. I am not going to let my self miss that for a blog. Besides I got to go get my son back to sleep because the baby-mama across the hall just slammed the door shut after a tirade with her mother and it woke my son up.