The guy who voiced Charlie Brown just got arrested for stalking and making death threats.

The guy who voiced Charlie Brown just got arrested for stalking and making death threats.

Seven People You Should Facebook Stalk Before It’s Too Late
Facebook stalking is something that you have obviously never done, ‘cause you’re not a total loser with crippling insecurity and no friends. But, according to the internet, the site is moving towards introducing a system where you will be able to tell who has looked at your page. So, in theory, if you were such a loser, here’s who you should be getting some last minute e-stalking done on before Zuckerberg ruins it for everyone.
ALL OF YOUR EXESRelationships can take different lengths of time to get over, and it’s never a good idea to dwell on the past, but have you SEEN how she looks right now? And then there’s the endless, banal shit she spouts: “Nice Diet Coke moment at work today!”; “This rain seriously needs to G.O. AWAY!”; “Raiders of the Lost Ark is da perfect Sat film!” It’d be tragic if every status update wasn’t “Liked” by that one loyal BFF from back home in Newcastle, who came to London to visit you once but got in a fight with all your friends and ended up shouting, “You all fucking think you’re better than me, don’t you?” at the pub. That was embarrassing.
Of course, that’s only one ex, and there will be some who were destined for greater things, like dating famous DJs and ending up on magazine covers. It won’t be so bad to look at their pictures now, though, because you tapped that, son.THAT BOY YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS ALWAYS HANGING OUT WITHYeah, there’s a guy she hangs out with at school when you’re not around, so what? You’re a modern guy, he helps her with her studies, she loves you and you trust her, it’s COOL. But before it’s too late, it might be worth checking if everything really is “cool.” Vindictive partners are normally good at covering their online tracks, but their “study buddy” won’t give a shit. You’re probs not gonna be able to figure out if he’s sleeping with your girlfriend, but you will be able to see that he “Liked” The Hangover 2. So that should make you feel better about yourself.

YOUR OLD SCHOOL BULLYIt’s an ancient truth explored in all Nickelodeon shows that the bully was only a bully because they were unloved at home and suffered from some pretty deep-set insecurities. These things result in their adulthood going one of two ways: They either give into their fears entirely and end up getting fat, having kids way too young, and stuck in a dead-end job drinking too much; or they become super-assertive and arrogant adult bullies who end up spending too much time at the gym and working in finance where banter reigns and they can still be feared by people weaker than them. Expect to see photographs from these guys’ vacations where they are standing on a beach admiring each other’s flexed muscles. Because if there is one group of people who don’t understand irony, it’s the guys who spend their childhood calling other guys fags.
CONTINUE

Seven People You Should Facebook Stalk Before It’s Too Late

Facebook stalking is something that you have obviously never done, ‘cause you’re not a total loser with crippling insecurity and no friends. But, according to the internet, the site is moving towards introducing a system where you will be able to tell who has looked at your page. So, in theory, if you were such a loser, here’s who you should be getting some last minute e-stalking done on before Zuckerberg ruins it for everyone.

ALL OF YOUR EXES
Relationships can take different lengths of time to get over, and it’s never a good idea to dwell on the past, but have you SEEN how she looks right now? And then there’s the endless, banal shit she spouts: “Nice Diet Coke moment at work today!”; “This rain seriously needs to G.O. AWAY!”; “Raiders of the Lost Ark is da perfect Sat film!” It’d be tragic if every status update wasn’t “Liked” by that one loyal BFF from back home in Newcastle, who came to London to visit you once but got in a fight with all your friends and ended up shouting, “You all fucking think you’re better than me, don’t you?” at the pub. That was embarrassing.

Of course, that’s only one ex, and there will be some who were destined for greater things, like dating famous DJs and ending up on magazine covers. It won’t be so bad to look at their pictures now, though, because you tapped that, son.

THAT BOY YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS ALWAYS HANGING OUT WITH
Yeah, there’s a guy she hangs out with at school when you’re not around, so what? You’re a modern guy, he helps her with her studies, she loves you and you trust her, it’s COOL. But before it’s too late, it might be worth checking if everything really is “cool.” Vindictive partners are normally good at covering their online tracks, but their “study buddy” won’t give a shit. You’re probs not gonna be able to figure out if he’s sleeping with your girlfriend, but you will be able to see that he “Liked” The Hangover 2. So that should make you feel better about yourself.

YOUR OLD SCHOOL BULLY
It’s an ancient truth explored in all Nickelodeon shows that the bully was only a bully because they were unloved at home and suffered from some pretty deep-set insecurities. These things result in their adulthood going one of two ways: They either give into their fears entirely and end up getting fat, having kids way too young, and stuck in a dead-end job drinking too much; or they become super-assertive and arrogant adult bullies who end up spending too much time at the gym and working in finance where banter reigns and they can still be feared by people weaker than them. Expect to see photographs from these guys’ vacations where they are standing on a beach admiring each other’s flexed muscles. Because if there is one group of people who don’t understand irony, it’s the guys who spend their childhood calling other guys fags.

CONTINUE

STALKING EARL
Like most teenagers, I decided to get out of town for spring break. LA seemed like the best option for me—it was the polar opposite of Salt Lake City—and one fateful mid-March morning I awoke in an unfamiliar UCLA dorm room with Earl Sweatshirt rhymes blasting in my head, a lyrical hangover from the night before. 
I ate a banana, laced up my Converse high tops, and threw on my favorite Atlanta Braves sweatshirt (which, I hoped, was the sort of thing a member of Odd Future might compliment), and headed out the door. My quest had begun. 
There was no direct road map or GPS tracker to guide me on this journey. I had no idea where I was going. All I had were Earl’s tweets from the day before, which I had already memorized but also saved on my phone just in case I blanked on any important details. He had posed a tantalizing offer to his followers, and I was determined to take him up on it. He had tweeted, “Hai. If you’re in la come to the 7-11 on Olympic and barrington and buy this jersey and meet me. I need lunch money. We’ll be there for 15.” My heart skipped a beat. My favorite living rapper, one who had been missing in action for more than a year, was now back and willing to reveal himself to anyone who would buy an article of his clothing so that he could get a bite to eat. 
Minutes after landing in LA, I was once again feverishly checking Earl’s Twitter. “Back to School,” he wrote. “Damn. I’ll still sell this. Tomorrow same time at stoner doe. Maybe.” No one wanted Earl’s jersey, which was sad but worked in my favor. I had another chance. His somewhat cryptic tweet prompted me to google “LA stoner,” which, in addition to numerous references to an herbivorous counterculture, led me to a skate park near Santa Monica, just three miles from my friend’s dorm at UCLA. It was worth a shot. 
Continue

STALKING EARL

Like most teenagers, I decided to get out of town for spring break. LA seemed like the best option for me—it was the polar opposite of Salt Lake City—and one fateful mid-March morning I awoke in an unfamiliar UCLA dorm room with Earl Sweatshirt rhymes blasting in my head, a lyrical hangover from the night before. 

I ate a banana, laced up my Converse high tops, and threw on my favorite Atlanta Braves sweatshirt (which, I hoped, was the sort of thing a member of Odd Future might compliment), and headed out the door. My quest had begun. 

There was no direct road map or GPS tracker to guide me on this journey. I had no idea where I was going. All I had were Earl’s tweets from the day before, which I had already memorized but also saved on my phone just in case I blanked on any important details. He had posed a tantalizing offer to his followers, and I was determined to take him up on it. He had tweeted, “Hai. If you’re in la come to the 7-11 on Olympic and barrington and buy this jersey and meet me. I need lunch money. We’ll be there for 15.” My heart skipped a beat. My favorite living rapper, one who had been missing in action for more than a year, was now back and willing to reveal himself to anyone who would buy an article of his clothing so that he could get a bite to eat. 

Minutes after landing in LA, I was once again feverishly checking Earl’s Twitter. “Back to School,” he wrote. “Damn. I’ll still sell this. Tomorrow same time at stoner doe. Maybe.” No one wanted Earl’s jersey, which was sad but worked in my favor. I had another chance. His somewhat cryptic tweet prompted me to google “LA stoner,” which, in addition to numerous references to an herbivorous counterculture, led me to a skate park near Santa Monica, just three miles from my friend’s dorm at UCLA. It was worth a shot. 

Continue

Today is Stalking Awareness Day. Consequently we’re revisiting our classic guide, Stalking for Beginners:
I decided to pick a random stranger and stalk the shit out of him. Just for kicks. Here’s what happened…DAY ONEI didn’t want to stalk a friend of a friend. I needed to find some jock in a shitty bar. Me and my best friend headed out to the lame part of Montreal, to a bar you normally couldn’t pay me to enter. There I saw my guy: blond-ish hair, ripped-up jeans, and a slick pair of shiny boots. Ew. My friend took off so I could be in complete control of the situation.I pulled a chair up next to him, introduced myself, and bought him an incredible amount of drinks. Then I started telling him how wet he made me. He agreed to take me home with him. We had some pretty hardcore dark-alley oral sex, which actually ruled. You know when you take a piss in the shower? It felt THAT good. His tongue was as soft as a newborn lamb’s coat.Then we got to his place and he gave me the most pedestrian pounding I have ever had. Yawn.After he fell asleep, I took down all the phone numbers in his cell while hiding in the bathroom. Mom, Dad, Susan, Rita, Jeff, and some guy named “Coke Delivery.” Real subtle, dude.I went back to bed with him and murmured “I love you.” He moved away from me. Everything was working as planned. He was getting stalked.DAY TWOI woke up fairly early, but he was already up and claiming he had to go to work. I started hugging him and telling him that I had the best night of my life, and he just kind of stood there. I asked him for his phone number, and he said he didn’t know what it was since he had just moved in. I knew it was a lie, but I said, “Fine, I’ll just stop by sometime and we can hang out. I’d love to hang out with you, and I need more of this.” Whereupon I tapped on his junk. He didn’t say a word, but I could tell he was frightened. I also already had his phone number, stolen from his phone.That night I showed up at his house piss-drunk at 4 AM with lipstick all over my face, and rang the doorbell six times. His roommate answered, and I ran in, jumped on my guy’s bed, and started screaming, “TAKE ME, FUCK ME.”It was beautiful. He was almost crying from the stupefaction and he told me to leave. I begged him to come and sit on the porch with me to talk. I gave him a letter I wrote him along with several Polaroids. The letter is full of pyscho shit and it’s half in French. That makes it even creepier somehow. Dude couldn’t even speak. He was just like, “Please leave, you’re fucking insane.” I’m pretty proud, so this was the most awkward moment of my life, because I had to play it like a crazy whore with zero self-esteem. I kept telling him we were made for each other and that I wasn’t able to take a shower since his scent was all over my body. He yelled at me, told me to leave again, and I ran into the house and hid under the covers in his bed, crying at top volume. His roommate came into the room and told me to leave. I could tell they felt awful for me. So I finally left, sobbing.Once I got home, I laughed so hard I thought my head was going to fucking explode. I called him five more times (my number’s blocked), leaving messages every time, that night. He doesn’t know my full name, my address, or my phone number, so I don’t think I can get in trouble. But I planned on fucking with him even more. Being a stalker is hard work, and I can’t believe people can do this in earnest. It’s exhausting. Every night during this experiment I slept like a log.I decided that the next night, I would call his mom.
Continue

Today is Stalking Awareness Day. Consequently we’re revisiting our classic guide, Stalking for Beginners:

I decided to pick a random stranger and stalk the shit out of him. Just for kicks. Here’s what happened…

DAY ONE
I didn’t want to stalk a friend of a friend. I needed to find some jock in a shitty bar. Me and my best friend headed out to the lame part of Montreal, to a bar you normally couldn’t pay me to enter. There I saw my guy: blond-ish hair, ripped-up jeans, and a slick pair of shiny boots. Ew. My friend took off so I could be in complete control of the situation.

I pulled a chair up next to him, introduced myself, and bought him an incredible amount of drinks. Then I started telling him how wet he made me. He agreed to take me home with him. We had some pretty hardcore dark-alley oral sex, which actually ruled. You know when you take a piss in the shower? It felt THAT good. His tongue was as soft as a newborn lamb’s coat.

Then we got to his place and he gave me the most pedestrian pounding I have ever had. Yawn.

After he fell asleep, I took down all the phone numbers in his cell while hiding in the bathroom. Mom, Dad, Susan, Rita, Jeff, and some guy named “Coke Delivery.” Real subtle, dude.

I went back to bed with him and murmured “I love you.” He moved away from me. Everything was working as planned. He was getting stalked.


DAY TWO
I woke up fairly early, but he was already up and claiming he had to go to work. I started hugging him and telling him that I had the best night of my life, and he just kind of stood there. I asked him for his phone number, and he said he didn’t know what it was since he had just moved in. I knew it was a lie, but I said, “Fine, I’ll just stop by sometime and we can hang out. I’d love to hang out with you, and I need more of this.” Whereupon I tapped on his junk. He didn’t say a word, but I could tell he was frightened. I also already had his phone number, stolen from his phone.

That night I showed up at his house piss-drunk at 4 AM with lipstick all over my face, and rang the doorbell six times. His roommate answered, and I ran in, jumped on my guy’s bed, and started screaming, “TAKE ME, FUCK ME.”


It was beautiful. He was almost crying from the stupefaction and he told me to leave. I begged him to come and sit on the porch with me to talk. I gave him a letter I wrote him along with several Polaroids. The letter is full of pyscho shit and it’s half in French. That makes it even creepier somehow. Dude couldn’t even speak. He was just like, “Please leave, you’re fucking insane.” I’m pretty proud, so this was the most awkward moment of my life, because I had to play it like a crazy whore with zero self-esteem. I kept telling him we were made for each other and that I wasn’t able to take a shower since his scent was all over my body. He yelled at me, told me to leave again, and I ran into the house and hid under the covers in his bed, crying at top volume. His roommate came into the room and told me to leave. I could tell they felt awful for me. So I finally left, sobbing.


Once I got home, I laughed so hard I thought my head was going to fucking explode. I called him five more times (my number’s blocked), leaving messages every time, that night. He doesn’t know my full name, my address, or my phone number, so I don’t think I can get in trouble. But I planned on fucking with him even more. Being a stalker is hard work, and I can’t believe people can do this in earnest. It’s exhausting. Every night during this experiment I slept like a log.

I decided that the next night, I would call his mom.

Continue


I know what you’re thinking – “That totally isn’t Thora Birch, why would she use her real name on FB and have an open profile?” I know, because this was a concern of mine too. But then I saw that our mutual friend had been talking back and forth on her wall with her about birthday drinks, so it’s definitely her.
Read the rest at Vice Magazine: FACEBOOK STALKING THORA BIRCH - Viceland Today 

I know what you’re thinking – “That totally isn’t Thora Birch, why would she use her real name on FB and have an open profile?” I know, because this was a concern of mine too. But then I saw that our mutual friend had been talking back and forth on her wall with her about birthday drinks, so it’s definitely her.



Read the rest at Vice Magazine: FACEBOOK STALKING THORA BIRCH - Viceland Today