Well, they seem like they got the hint... Heisenberg was alright. His/her friend, though... oy. Oh, well. THEY PASS, AND WE REMAIN. WE ARE WHITECHAPEL. WE ARE ETERNAL.
I'm sorta floating around, I'll be back in a bit later. Hanging out in Neil Gaiman's room - place is so packed, the head-bobs are taking on this slow, twitchy, but sort of appropriately dreamlike quality.
On the off chance anyone's Friday evening is as exciting as mine, I'm hanging out in the whitechapel room for a bit while doing other things. Come in and start spinning something to get my attention.
So, okay, we're in the Coilhouse room. One of the folks there is broadcasting our jams to the bar where he works.
We are doing EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to fuck with these poor people's minds. For example: we just went from Supergirl, by Papaya, to the Soviet National Anthem.
I made a new facebook account here because the old one didn't seem to work to get me in, despite having had people add me. So, if people are still doing that, I'd really like to see this site some day.