Go check out the last comment on this post.
(And please, ya maroons, don't add a comment so your comment becomes the last comment. Duh.)
Ain't that neat? A person who actually saw The Bunny Man? Apparently, he'd Googled "Bunny Man Legend Fairfax County" and came chez moi.
This kind of thing keeps happening when you broadcast yourself on the Net. I've avoided talking about certain things, because, you know, from your lips to Google's ears. But the most marvelously serendipitous things keep popping up. Serendippity-doo. Sarah Ann Dippity-Doo.
SuperJoel Tornabene's brother. A guy who knew somebody in the Snobs.
I got an email some while ago from a guy who'd lived at the farm where John Mobberly was killed -- his ancestors were living there during the Civil War, had things stolen by him. The guy told me some family anecdotes about him. (All in good time, kids.)
All this interconnection. People I knew in college pop up. People from high-school. People from old jobs.
I'm going to try something. Guy I knew in college seems to have dropped off the face of the earth -- Googling his name produces only a few results, and they hint at a life about as weird as it gets. (Link arguably NSFW.) Seeing as how he appears to fancy himself something of a King Wizard, with this Aleister Crowley goober, I'm gonna try conjuring him up:
Pasq Wilson, I summon thee! I summon thee! I summon thee!
(Everybody from Kenyon is readin' this an' thinkin', Dude -- do you really want to do this? Cat was a mite . . . chaotic.)
I'll take my chances. See what happens. I'm betting he's here inside two weeks.
Next day edit: