Go here. Buy some dolls.

http://www.freetobea.com/gallery.htm

Or some Christms Ornaments.

Leave a comment here about the site if you'd like. Artist welcomes thoughts. And welcomes requests to buy.

I’m still hibernating. Don’t worry. Still working on sleeping for a few more months. This is just a pee break, but winter will be over soon and I’m sure I’ll get back to posting. While we wait, you should all know that I’ve adopted my own hero theme music-- “Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained” by Hung sheng Yi (I think?). It plays loudly and makes small cups and picture fames shake when I’m around. If anyone out there is thinking, “oh, I heard that first in Kung Fu Hustle” then shut up, I’m my song, not theirs.

I’m also drinking green tea.

And having chocolate milk shakes for lunch.

Mag, your turn.

Hello my fans!
As some of you know I'm in Singapore at the moment. Not a lot of internet available, but at the moment I'm at the Singapore Science Center and for some odd reason, in addition to all the nifties, they've got computers set up with high speed internet connections. So hello from Singapore!

My cool friend Aya is leaving for Canada and tomorrow is my last day in the US. I'm currently trying to stay up all night in order to beat jet lag. It's only 10:30pm. I don't think I'm going to last much longer. That is all.

Okay, so I went to the doctor's today for my usual once-in-a-blue-moon checkup. Somehow, without any real complaints I walked away with three prescriptions and both arms numb from shots. How? Before I walked into the doctors office I was fine. All my bits were in working order and nothing was turning unusual colors-- now both of my arms are basically immobile from the shoulder to the wrist, swollen, red and burning, and I'm in the middle of a god awful fever. At first all I could do was sleep in a cold sweat, and now, now I can't sleep. All I do is shake and burn. I think I have West Nile, Tetanus, Hepatitis A, B, C, D, and E and Malaria. If I survive the night it'll be a miracle.

Muhahah! Plastic Fruit Photography!

http://www.throwyourownhead.com/photos/main.htm

A slight side-step away from my long... long... long ass work.

How I got a police escort out to my car last night.

Things you don't want to hear at 10 o'clock at night while you are in charge of a completely full hotel... alone.

Realistic phone sounds: "Ring, ring....ring, ring...."
Me: "Front desk, this is Lauren, how may I help you?"
Guest: "You gotta get somebody up here right now, there's a fucking psychopath outside our door!"

And that's just what I did hear.

Insert back story: We had a DUI program at our hotel yesterday, lots of drunks that were only there because their only other option was jail. They're stuck at our hotel, 3 to a room, no personal calls, class all day, catered food, and no free time with exception to occasional smoke breaks. It's a cakewalk. Generally these programs are pretty good-- the advisors keep a close eye on everyone and occasionally threaten jail time to some of the pushier students. I get free food at lunch or dinner and they get locked into their rooms by 9:30-- it's usually very quiet. Last night was another story. The students were being more annoying than ever, "I need this", "I need that", "this is so hard", etc, etc. And this one guy, Danny, kept calling for his girlfriend-- "can I talk to her?", "when does she get out?", "what room is she in?", "patch my call through.", and on and on. And as policy with these DUI classes, we can't disclose any information nor let them talk to anyone. Well this kinda pissed him off. "Well, get one of those damn advisors to call me back, I'll talk to them. My name's Danny, here's my number". A few hours after talking to him on the phone this shady looking character comes walking in all covered in scars and tattoos—but he was blending right in with all the motorcyclists we had in house for the mid-ohio races. I didn't think much of it. He said hi to some local guy that had stopped in to fill out an application, "hi Danny", "hi Tim", I hear them say, but still, it didn't click. He told me he was going up stairs to visit a friend of his and his friend’s old lady. Again, no click-age. I didn't think anything of it until I heard that woman on the phone quickly whispering "psychopath", and then it all made sense and made me a little shaky.

Continued....

Me: "Uh... okay."
Guest: "No! You don't understand, this guy is crazy, you gotta get someone up here now!"
Me: "Ma'am, just calm down a sec, keep the doors locked and stay quiet, I'll get help."
Guest: "Hurry!"
Phone sounds: "Click.... Ring, ring... ring, ring..."
Me: "Front desk, this is Lauren, how may I help you?"
Guest: "Yeah, this is the guy in 310, and you guys should get your security guy up here, there's some guy next door that's freaking everybody out. He sounds kinda dangerous."
My inner monologue: It's just me. I'm the security guy. Fuck that.
Me: "Thank you Sir. Please lock the dead bolt on your door and stay put."
Phone sounds: "Click."

Insert image of me phoning the sheriffs department.

Me: "Hi, this is Lauren from the Holiday Inn Express and we've got a gentleman up stairs that is threatening guests and making a scene, we need an officer over here right now."
Deputy: "Ma'am, is this a guest at the hotel?"
Me: "No sir, but I believe his name is Danny ------, and I have a supposition that he's recently out of jail. He's the boyfriend, or maybe ex-boyfriend of one of the guests in our DUI program."

After that the deputy informed me that he knew this Danny, everyone did. He had recently gotten out of jail and had a big problem with violence and alcohol. "Make sure to lock your doors if you can, ma'am."

I looked around, yeah, I can lock the side office door, but there’s still a big damn open area over the desk that would be real easy to get across… or shoot through.

Minutes went by and I got call after call from people upstairs saying that they could hear someone yelling and pounding on doors. It's was about 10:10pm. Sheriff’s deputies showed up within two minutes and went upstairs with the 2 DUI program directors and my manager, all of which showed up right as the deputies did. But our Mr. Danny Boy had disappeared. There was lots of searching and poking around, but he was still no where to be seen. 11pm came around a second later and it was time for me to get off work. Also something you don’t want to hear as you’re walking all innocently out to your car at night. “Ma’am, this guy knows your face and probably knows that you’re the one that called us. You might not want to walk out there alone.” And that’s how I got a police escort out to my car yesterday.

Dear nocturnal creatures of the Ohio Valley,
I am sorry. I’m not the horrible murderess that you think I am. I do not intend to pick you off one by one, family by family. It’s just that you shouldn’t scratch for worms in the middle of a paved road. Silly raccoons.
Apologetically,
Sleepy woman in the white accent

As I was driving home at the ass crack of dawn today… this morning… whatever… I drove up over a hill, and onto three raccoons. I cried like a baby after I hit them. I have this guilty horrible-person feeling like I just killed mama raccoon, papa raccoon and made baby raccoon into little orphan raccoon. I’m really, really, really feeling bad. …I’m really sorry and need to go sniffle some more. I can’t believe I keep hitting raccoons. I’m gonna have nightmares tonight.

Newscasters are insane.

I know I am not alone when saying that but really, Gawd. I wish I had the talent that they do, to say some of the most oblivious and ridiculous things. Well, that might be what I'm doing by pointing out in a post that newscasters are insane. "Chuck, it looks like there's some rain coming down..." "Well yes Susan, I'm standing in the middle of a flood." It's like news for the blind... but they don't just want to come out and say it, we have to play the guessing game. "Chuck, are you close to where the hurricane has just hit?" "Yes Susan, if you look behind me you can see the swirling winds that have been clocked at over 150 miles an hour. Our van was blown away less than thirty minutes ago. I call that close."

Gah, three hours down, five to go.

Four hours down, four to go.

New topic!

I'm not the kind of person that is easily embarrassed. It just doesn’t happen very often. Now I may blush at some talk, but I'm not truly embarrassed or uncomfortable-- except for yesterday. Now, as you all know, work has been pretty boring lately. I've been spending about eight hours each day poking around at things in the hotel and starting mild bits of mischief. You know that, I know that, that's it. My boss wasn't supposed to know that. And now he does. Yesterday I came into work as usual, said "hi" to my boss, waved goodbye as he left, then walked into the back office to check out the news on our little corkboard. And there, sitting on desk, was a nice 8x10 photocopy picture of my face. See image below.



A big, distorted, smiling, scrunched up face. Yes, one of the many photocopies I made the other day during my second phase of insanity. My employer was not meant to see the shit I do after he leaves! Thank God our photocopier it up too high up for me to get my ass up on it. I’m gonna go die now.

As previously posted, I’m going a little nutty with so much work and so little weekend. And, to properly show this insanity I have visuals!





Photo post!

1st stage of insanity: arts and crafts.
Project: pocket bag for purse to hold makeup.
Supplies: mailing tape, scotch tape, duct tape, velcro, copy paper, scissors, paper cutter.





Ta da!







I love it and it’s squishy and holds all my pens and makeup bits and gum.

2nd stage of insanity: Random photos stage.
Entertainment level: 4 ½

















3rd stage of insanity: knitting and crocheting.
Project: hat
Result: mess









4th stage of insanity: anything that involves spinning.
Nausea level: 19









Final stage of insanity: the… why the fuck is this on the side of a washing maching… stage

I am such a hug hungry person. I used to get hugs dozens of times a day from my mother and father. I still get them occasionally-- when I leave in the morning, when I get back in the evening, when I feel lonely and ask, when they feel lonely and ask. Working like this makes me even more lonely. I see dozens of people each day that I'd like to ask to hug me. There was a woman today I wished I could ask. She was an older lady with red graying hair and big breasts. She smelled nice and had a very passionate voice that made me smile and scrunch my eyebrows. I really wanted to reach out and squeeze her. My chest gets achy sometimes and when that happens I really start to itch for a hug. I need to feel someone's chest up against mine. I imagine I have a leaky cup in my chest. After a while everything drips out and it gets empty and someone else needs to get close and hug me and pour a little of their love into my leaky heart. It's so silly but it's how I've imagined my heart since I was an itty bitty thing. It was probably something my mother told me.

The guy that works night audit, everyone calls him the drill sergeant, he's someone I wish would hug me right now. A few days ago I had to deal with a creepy character. I mean REAL creepy. The guy was a doctor and a major pain in the ass. He was constantly calling down to the desk and having me do errands for him-- find this phone number, bring this, fix this, etc, etc. After spending about half an hour in his room, alone with him as he stared at my ass, slowly moved closer, asked “what’s your sign?”, “how old are you?”, “when do you get off?”, I went back down stairs with just a few bare minutes left in my shift. That’s when he called down yet again, this time asking me to bring him up a few items. I went over to the drill sergeant and told him that I had to go deliver for the creep, and that if I wasn’t back in just a few minutes, come save me. Well, with a wonderfully gruff muttering voice he told me that he was gonna go “set that sonofabitch straight”. I could of hugged him. And today, he told me I did a good job, that he appreciated me… I would like to hug him. I want to hug people that are nice to me, who feel good things…. I need a hug.

Holiday pay must not make a lot of sense to some employers.

I understand paying employees time and a half on some holidays that they would rather spend with family and friends. You know, some people have people and religions and... stuff.

I understand that for some job positions the holidays are insanely busy and frantic. I believe that the kids that work at Kroger’s on the fourth of July and Christmas Eve deserve metals of honor for the work they do.

But what I don't understand is why I'm getting paid time and a half to work at a corporate hotel. The little corporate aren’t working today so why am I? For reasons that boggle the mind, I'm getting paid to sit in my big leather chair and read the Joy Luck Club for the tenth time. I'm getting paid for eating our cookies and blueberry muffins. I'm getting paid for writing this LJ entry at the front desk computer. I'm getting paid for the manicure and pedicure I just gave myself in the back office. I'm getting paid for watching three movies in a row on the big screen TV in the Lobby. I'm getting paid for playing Yahtzee, pinball, and solitaire by myself. I'm getting paid for all the rest of the mischief I can come up with to entertain myself for the next six hours. And I'm going to be getting paid for sitting up on the third floor with my ice tea and watching the fireworks out the hall window.

Tonight I will be paid for answering all of 4 phone calls and checking in 3 guests.

It's just nutty.

Gah. Muhahahahh gah.

Currently at work we’ve got our head housekeeper and two front desk girls away helping sick family members for at least a month and another was just recently fired. At the moment my hotel is being run by my manager and I. That’s it. He works mornings and I work evenings. Neither one of just gets help and if the other gets sick… well… 16 hours days sounds like shit to both of us.

Gah yuck.

But, on the sunny side, I’m going to be pulling in mucho overtime and fun holiday pay today!

Yay!

And on the shady side, I’m also going two weeks without a day off.

Boo.

This all puts me in a very pretty bribe-y position, though. “Bruce, since I’m basically the other half of this hotel for a month… uh… go buy me chocolate”. And he did! So I guess that’s another point for the sunny side.

Check out my (belated) birthday present from my parents…


It’s a 1979 coachman trailer camper! I’ve gone camping in it since I was an itty bitty Kayt and I adore it bunches and bunches. My mum and dad gave me the title to it so it’s all mine… and now I can spiffy it up and pimp it out.

We haven’t gone camping in the camper for a few years now. It’s been folded up and packed away behind our garage, just sitting and waiting.

Today marks my second day off from work and I was about up to you-know-where with the nothing-to-do thing. I mentioned my raging boredom phase to my mum and before I knew what was happening she pulled out the truck and started messing with the camper and dragged me into it. What a pain. I was all clean and pretty and I smelled nice and she was making me dig out bug infested logs and pull at rose bushes to free the camper. But, as it always is with the camper, I got sucked in and took over. I love unpacking and getting all set up. I'm like a freak. The inside smells faintly of mildew and strongly of camp fire smoke. It’s wonderful!



Here is my love in it’s natural environment of mud and rose thorns. There are lots of spiders back there.



The moving process. Here is where I supervise and do lots of authoritative pointing.



Here it is after we had it moved into the garage. It's pseudo-parking spot while it airs out and gets all pimp-ified.



This is my new BESTEST FRIEND EVER! The pressure washer! It’s awesome. I want to clean everything with it!



I’m so proud. See the clean side on the bottom and the dirty on the top? I enjoyed washing a little too much.



And this is my face after being sprayed by the pressure washer. Despite what the smile might lead you on to thinking… it stung like a bitch. And messed up my hair. And I don't have an excuse for the rest.



The clean camper! Notice the key chain (Spark?)?



Random flowers in our garden. You can ignore this picture... it has nothing to do with the rest.



All put together! Ain’t she a beaut!?! I heart her so much. She just needs some sexy patches and some fuzzy dice.



And lastly, a crappy picture of the insides to let you all appreciate the very 70’s feel.

I’m off to go see Serenity with my bro! And i’m wearing a brown shirt with thoughts of all the sweet Browncoats that wont get a chance to see Serenity tonight. And my brown shirt shows off my breasts like “whabam!” with thoughts of all my dirty minded Browncoats that wont get a chance to see Serenity tonight.

Hair depression-- it's a pretty powerful thing... and I was starting to get over it. I had just started to move from the sobbing rage phase to quiet acceptance when I heard my first "though."

Tammy: "You got your hair cut..."
Me: "Hehe, yeah".
Tammy: "It's cute though..."

"Though?" "Though!?!" What?

Translation: "It makes you look like you're a toddler and makes me mostly want to gag, but despite all that I guess it's cute... for a toddler".

Vicki: "You got a hair cut".
Me: "Yup..."
Vicki: "It's not soooooo bad though".

Translation: "That thing on your head... that odd growth with the strange poofage on the left , well, it scares small children and kittens... it's not sooooooo bad though... it doesn’t' t bite."

Go ahead, cut six or seven inches of hair from my head, I can take it... sniffle....

Leave my head alone people! Keep your damn thought’s to yourself!

Fuck though!

Rubble update alert!

Quickie:

Today my manager handed me a watch and told me to take a bit of a look, because more than likely I’d never see one of those again. It was an official NFLRA watch—NFL Referee’s Association. It was pretty. It belongs to Don Wedge, an NFL ref staying with us at the hotel. Shiny.

Also, as far as sports go, we have Ferguson Jenkins staying with us at the moment. If you’re sporty I guess you’ll know who his is. I didn’t. I had to ask him. Apparently he’s a world cup… record… or something baseball pitcher. He even has a bobble head doll. I bobbled it. It was also shiny.

http://www.onlinesports.com/pages/I,PHF-AAGC038-37.html

Yum... Magalicious!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday dear maguinan!

Happy Birthday to you!

Heart you a big number plus ten much!

Also, enjoy now being of legal age to buy spray paint in Arizona! Joy!

I’ve practically passed out and damn it, Larry is a freakin’ angel!

Let me show you a few snip bits of our recent e-mail conversations…

Larry: [Columbus BDM preview] I managed to nab extra tickets. I'm offering them to the folks on the FF Ohio Yahoo group, but since you're a #firefly homey I thought I'd give you first dibs. Lemme know if you want 'em.

Me: *faints*

Then…

Me: Gah! Larry! Yes! Yes! Yes! When, where, how?!? *Squee* Yes! Gimme the info and I'll give you anything you want... my soul is up as an offering too.

Larry: …I'm holding two tickets for you (I may be able to scare up another one or two if needed). All I need is an address to send them. (#ff homeys get a 100% discount)

Me: Larry, you're a freakin' angel! An angel! Hell yes I want them!

Me: *faints again*

And now we're back to the present moment and I’m still in mid-faint. And I mean the kind of fainting that’s all ass in the air, face smashed into the carpet, neck at some odd angle, my eyes just rolling ‘round my head and the word “disbelief” written on my forehead.

I’m a sad case.

But damn! I’m gonna get to see Serenity in June!

JUNE!

J.U.N.E!

Oh dear, I need to sit down.

I got accepted into the Ohio State University Arts Program today! They accepted my portfolio! Whoo hoo!

Also, I got a haircut this afternoon!

Before:

Kayt with long hair and a silly smile of fear that says, “oh shit, you’re about to get a hair cut”.

After:

Kayt with short hair and a somewhat crossed eyed look that says, “oh shit, I just got my hair cut”… “and it’s shorted than I wanted”… “a lot shorter.”

And another After shot:

No amusing caption because it’s almost 3am and I have work tomorrow. Let your imagination run wild.

Don’t think I really like this cut but I’ll give it a few days before going back in to my regular Charles Penzone and getting it prettied up.

And yes, I know, I need to stop taking pictures of myself while I drive. But I just get so bored.

Goodnight!

Traffic 101

I had it all planned out. My exam was at 11:30 this morning. It takes me a solid hour to get to class. I’d leave at ten and have that extra half hour to study at school with Geoff right before walking in to take my final. But…



10:02am: I left my house. Down high street, down main street, onto route 61.


10:07am: I realize I forgot my cell phone at home. Damn it.



10:11am: Traffic stopped.


Well, I figure something’s gone on, but we’ll be moving again in just a few.


10:20am: My car still hadn’t moved an inch and my left arm was starting to get sun burned. I drank my old Pepsi and warm bottled water in less than a minute.


10:22am: Thoroughly bored. The cops weren’t letting any cars through and they weren’t letting anyone turn around.


10:25am: With nothing left to do I tried to study while I broiling myself in the sun. Not recommended.


10:26am: Whoo! Astronomy is just as much (scarcastic) fun in the 97 degree heat as it is in an air conditioned room!


10:30am: After my skin turned a few shades of red I moved to the passengers side to the car to relax and study some more.


10:37am: It first hits me that I might be late to my final exam. I take the most depressing picture I can manage while still being trapped inside my car.


10:45am: I lost my mind at 10:45.


With what little conscious I had left I tried amusing myself by taking pictures of my car mirrors.


10:50am: Traffic started moving again but my mind was still so far gone that I couldn’t stop taking pictures of my car’s mirrors.

Somehow I made it to Stillman Hall today in forty minutes. I had no idea how the hell that was possible.

Back to the grind-- now I'm back to studying for Art History. Wish me luck! And please kiddies, stay away from the astronomy.

Wow

Okay, it’s late (almost two hours into my 21st birthday) but I just have to share this. Tonight Geoff and I went out to see Star Wars III and the Firefly trailer came on! God lord almighty and some other common religious phrase! My toes wiggled and my smile was insane. I even clapped a little bit. Wow. Yes, I just have to share this moment of… wow.

Also, Star Wars III sucked ass but gave me a lot of stuff to make fun of for the next few weeks. The fifteen bucks for the movie was totally worth it for the Firefly trailer. Wow.

Dear world,

Saturday, June 4th, is my birthday. I’ll be twenty one! And I want to go skydiving for my birthday but it costs money and no one in my family wants to give me the money to go because they’re afraid I’ll die and it will be their fault but I really, really, really wanna go so…. send me money! I figure if I get a tenth of a penny from each person in the world then I’ll have enough to go sky diving for the rest of my life. Now, just contribute a little itty bit and let me jump out of a plane.

Thank you.

Fucking Nature

Ohio’s a beautiful place. Really. While some think of it as a little forest full of a spin off species of hillbilly-rednecks with an inherited dislike for Michigan, it can really be quite nice. We’ve got beautiful rolling hills, thick forests, wild flowers, pastry shops, quaint farms, grand Victorian towns, and hoards of men that help little old ladies across the street, (something I saw just yesterday). We also have a large range of innocent wildlife, like the fucking possum that waddled in front of my car last night at about 2:20am. Or the deer that was prancing around the right lane of route 61 about 2:25am last night. Or the fucking heard of deer that followed him across the street at 2:26am. A few wandering cats and a raccoon later I realized that there must be some kind of kick ass wildlife Memorial Day barbeque going on. Rock on nature but stay off my streets. And… if you’ve gotta be on my road, wear some sexy neon reflectors please.

"Iny weeny teeny weeny shriveled little short dick man"

All at once now!

Do the dance of joy! And sing the words, “ha, ha, ha, ha, my car wasn’t stolen!”

Yesterday I locked my keys in my car. Locked my keys in my pretty new car. Locked my keys in my pretty new car as it was parked on 17th avenue off of High Street, aka: Fraternity Road. The keys were sitting right on the passenger’s seat screaming at every single drunk college kid, “smash the window and steal this pretty car and the shiny CD player and oh, take those roller blades while you’re at it”. My car survived a whole night, a FRIDAY night, on 17th avenue with the keys locked inside in plain sight! Aghh! I am still amazed.

Again!

The dance of JOY!

---

Side note: I've recently become infatuated with a new song. This one's called "Short dick man" by 20 fingers. It's just so random and repetitive that I can't help but enjoy it. I don't recommend it to anyone.

And, as a minor addition: 20 fingers has many other equally nasty songs I'm currently enjoying such as "boom I fucked your boyfriend”, “lick it before your stick it”, and something that’s talking about an “ugly mother-sucker”. I personally like song “choke my chicken”, it has real squawking sounds and a barn dance/redneck rap quality.

FUCK

Tonight I was in a very icky mood. (Still am but also on my way to recovery… read on.) I was quite prepared to cry and scream and rant in text, but probably not actually post, about how I feel ten ways to horrible but then I got home. I walked in all teary and walked right into my brother. I had already cried till I was dry, I was a whole sore throat past the screaming, but still had the rant left in me. I had just started when he told me with a little laugh, “shut up.” And damn, who knew how much that could help? Sometimes I really need someone who loves me to tell me to shut up. Then there was the pretty smell of lilacs, the smell of my backyard in summer, from a big bouquet on the kitchen table. And then my cat, Jack, who was waiting for me on the toilet when I walked into the bathroom to pee. And my nightly ritual of chips and salsa finished off the list of good to end the night.

Recipe for happiness:
1. “Shut up.”
2. Lilacs.
3. Cats on toilets.
4. Chips and salsa.


A new universal truth I have recently learned:

1. If you have a flower lei hanging from your rear view mirror in your car, then you are one nasty fucker. That’s not your natural hair color nor your natural tan. Get your vanity plates away from me and act your age because you’re sure as hell not older than 17. And if, by chance, you are older than 17, then it’s because you’re the 17 year olds mother and you shouldn’t try to look like her because it’s scary and your driving is worse. Also, go the fuck away.

'cause pop rocks... hehehe

Spiteful Loner You are 71% Rational, 42% Extroverted, 57% Brutal, and 42% Arrogant.

You are the Spiteful Loner, the personality type that is most likely to go on a shooting rampage. You are a rational person and tend to hold emotions in very low-esteem; not only that, but you are also rather introverted, meaning you probably bury any emotions you feel deep inside yourself. Combine these traits with your hatred of others and your brutality, and it seems that you would be quite likely to shoot innocent people in a rampage. Not only that, but you are also a very humble person--not a braggart at all--meaning you could possibly have low-self esteem. This is only yet one more incentive to go on a shooting rampage, because you wouldn't care if you died as a result. Granted, you probably haven't gone on a shooting rampage and probably never will, but all the motivations are there. In conclusion, your personality is defective because you are too introverted, brutal, insecure, and rather unemotional. No wonder no one hangs around you, you morbid, cold-hearted freak! To put it less negatively: 1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive. 2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted. 3. You are more BRUTAL than gentle. 4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant. Compatibility: Your exact opposite is the Televangelist. Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Capitalist Pig, the Smartass, and the Sociopath. * * If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits. The other personality types: The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 56% on Rationality You scored higher than 43% on Extroversion You scored higher than 70% on Brutality You scored higher than 45% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating