Monday, March 29, 2010

Where your eyes don't go a filthy scarecrow waves his broomstick arms and does a parody of each unconscious thing you do...

You know, it's really good that I don't have any stalkers (or anyone really interested in my life whatsoever) because if you type in Trelbee in a Google search there's pages and pages of the most random things to which I've made the smallest contribution.  For years and years, it seems.  Things I'd completely forgotten about.  Cached shite that is closed and well since deleted, but still appears when you click on it, sparkling and brand new.  Stuff I didn't even write, sometimes.  "Trelbee's restaurant and bar recommendations."  Wha?  It's blank, mind, but MySpace apparently glommed my name onto a lot of random things.  I don't even use MySpace.  I keep the account open only because I still want access to band stuffs.  Bla.


So, that was weird.


Meanwhile if I look up my real name, it brings up not me at all.  I'm looking at you, "Krista Solis."  

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