At Some Point, You Have To Suspect You're Odd

This news item had me wondering. At what point do you stop qualifying for standard deviations from the norm and simpy become a bell curve unto yourself? Porch swings in your hotel room? Dead body on dry ice in a container? Empty saki containers with light sockets shoved into the necks? Sadly, dead bodies aren't all that unique. It was almost more remarkable that he hadn't chopped her to pieces. I might even spot him the saki lamps. That isn't all that far of chianti straw bottles with drippy candles. Porch swings though? That's some sick fucker.