My name is Eggedict, or Egg. Not really, but let’s say it is. I’ve been reading up on a lot of “weaboo horror stories” as of late. I’m not sure what got me into them, but now that I think about it, it could have been a sort of cathartic release for me. I’m what you might call a typical target of weaboos– I’m short, I’m East Asian with seriously dubious origins, and one of my mother tongues is Japanese. While I was never into the whole manga/anime scene, I’ve been “glomped” and squeed a fair amount by people who thought that I would automatically share their interest in whatever Japanese cartoon series was popular at the time. This unfortunately caused me to develop a quiet, brooding hatred of whoever had boundary issues and spent more than three minutes in front of the manga section in bookstores.