I demand an Arrowverse Geeksquad crossover- Felicity, Curtis, Cisco, Caitlin, Winn and at least one representative from Legends (Stein, Nate and/or Ray). Just them. No other characters get to come. And the emphasis is on using their intelligence to solve the problem, not whatever powers or fighting skills they have (even though there is actual a considerable amount between them). 

me, on the phone with a geeksquad employee: sir i told you the problem, i ran a script to google search ‘sexy dragon milfs’ 1000 times and now my computer is frozen 

i know it’s been like five years but having tony be the one to confront loki without his suit in the avengers is like me calling GeekSquad and asking them to come fight off the intruder in my house,,,,anyways au where tony isn’t the prodigal son or iron man but actually just the IT Guy™ and somehow keeps getting called in on super hero missions

#Cosplayer @lottiestarr with her own sexy take on #ScoobyDoo’s #Velma! #cosplay

@Regrann from @lottiestarr - This picture is already all over the #internet but not yet posted my me :) #latex #geeks #geeksquad #nerd #glasses #geekglasses #velmacosplay #latexcosplay #doyouevengeek #cosplaygirl #model #modellife #comiccon #nec #birmingham #fb #tb
Visit for more cosplay! #regrann

Sorry, I do not have time to comment on media speculation that Russia hacked the emails of the Democratic National Committee because I am busy hacking the emails of the Democratic National Committee.

I have sent my computer off to Geeksquad twice in the past month and once a couple of months before that (they didn’t fix the problem that time but I really needed my computer for school). Now the things that weren’t working are fixed (headphone jack and keyboard) but now the speakers don’t work! I’ve got a week left on my warranty but I don’t know that I care to take it in again (their chatroom agent said I would need to).


I want to tell you a story. Its a story about a number, and there’s nothing scary about numbers.

    It’s actually a story about a website really; not so much a number. Just a series of numbers, followed by a dot com. If you type that address into your browser, it will take you to google. Try it. Google is the most widely used search engine in the world. 466453 isn’t, but google is.   

    Let me back up a little first, and tell you how I heard about It’ll make more sense if I start at the beginning. I was in college; it was my freshman year.  I was an art major, and yes, whatever jokes about not being able to find employment, I’m sure I’ve heard them. I was dating a girl, who in hindsight, was clearly a coke addict. But at the time, we were just having fun. And the friends we shared, were just having fun too.  

   Some of the guys we hung around, were weird, but it was cool. It really didn’t make a difference to me. A lot of the time I wouldn’t even know a lot of the people partying in my apartment late into the night. People would just come in and out, and I didn’t always catch their names. If they were there, it meant they knew one of my friends, and that meant they were cool. Of course I didn’t keep the best company back then, so it should’ve been no surprise to me, that neither did my company.   

     So one night some guy sits beside me, and looks over at me. I was thinking, he was going to ask me for some coke or something, but he just says “466453.” That’s it. And then he looked at me like I was supposed to reply to that. I just thought he was fucked up. Acid maybe.

     He kept looking at me, his sunken eyes waiting for something from me.  

    ",“ he said to me. "It’s crazy.”

     And he reached his arm out and handed me a little scrap of line paper, with 466453.COM, scribbled harshly in pen.

    "Seriously,“ he went on, "try it out for yourself. It’s wild, man.”

    I had no idea what this lunatic was talking about and I was tired and out of patience, so I just got up and went to bed. I woke up the next morning, and had a few hours before class, so I straightened up my place a little and sat down on my couch. I reached in my pocket to grab my phone to see what texts or calls I may have missed, but felt a small crumpled paper at the bottom of my pocket. I pulled it out and the memory of the night before, came back to me. I must’ve put the piece of paper in my pocket, after that weirdo handed it to me. After looking at it for a moment, curiosity got the best of me, and I pulled my laptop up, and I typed in It brought me to google’s homepage.

    "Fucking idiot,“ I thought. I thought it was some incredibly stupid prank or joke or something. So I just surfed the internet for a while, before heading out to class. And that’s when it all started, I guess.
    I got through my classes, and was going to enjoy a quieter night by myself. Most of my friends partied every night, but that just wasn’t for me. And I had to work on a paper that night, anyways.     

    After I finished what I thought was a decent essay, I went to sleep. I woke up and groggily looked around the room. The clock read 4am. My eyes glanced to my right, and landed on my laptop, when I noticed something. The light, signaling its camera was on, was lit.

     I got up to grab my laptop. I closed it and I just went back to sleep. What can I say, I was barely awake, I didn’t think much of it at all. To be honest, I forgot it happened, after I woke up in the morning.    

    The next few weeks continued normally, for the most part. My computer had been acting up; applications would randomly open, or be open when I woke it up. The computer was getting old though, and I excused its performance issues. I started getting weird emails from spam accounts, as well. Not the "Hey let’s have casual sex” emails; the subjects in these new spam messages would be things like “Tom is dead now,” “You killed Tom,” or “Whore,” or some were just gibberish like “ueyoedranedxt.” It was definitely weird, but I made a new email account and they stopped. And other than that, life was normal. Class, friends, drugs. My girlfriend.

    "Why is your laptop camera on?“ I remember her asking me one night. I shut it; she thought I was trying to secretly film us or something; I just thought my laptop was on the fritz.

   I started noticing weird shit pulled up on the internet. Stuff I definitely didn’t search for. I mean at first it was harmless things. A realty website. A website about Stags - Yeah just male deer. I don’t know, it was definitely weird but there wasn’t any harm or anything. It was just strange.
Then it took a darker turn, and I’d find images of children saved on my computer, a website devoted to people who seriously hurt themselves and talk about it or post videos of it, a video of someone being hanged in a dimly lit forest. And I started finding weird homemade videos in my computer folders. In the first video, it was dark, the camera used a very poor quality night vision, and it appeared to film a person, but way too close to gather anything at all, and there was no sound. Another was just a shitty quality video of someone filming a dead deer on the side of the road. Or it was a stag, I guess.

Some of my files started disappearing. Some were replaced. I remember opening a paper I had been working on, only to see it had become two pages of gibberish. It was getting extremely unsettling for me, and I had planned to get a new laptop, as soon as I could afford one. But I had to stick with what I had begun to say was my haunted laptop, in the meantime. It was just too important to have a computer for school.

   Until in the middle of the night, I woke up to a horrific, blood curdling scream. I jumped up in my bed, and looked around, but I saw nothing out of place in my dark room, and everything was quiet now. I sat there confused for a moment.

     "Did I dream that?”  I looked to my phone on the stand beside my bed. 5:26 am. I also had new emails. I lazily grabbed my phone.  The emails were from me and had no subject; they were all video attachments.  I downloaded the first one to see what this was. The video was of me sleeping. I felt my throat tighten up. I was having trouble swallowing. I downloaded the next one, moving in slow motion, and it was the same thing. Me asleep in my bed. I couldn’t breathe. My mind went into panic mode, and I dropped my phone.  

   The light to my laptop camera turned on. I could see it in my peripheral. I was frozen; too horrified to even look at it, too scared to even move. After what felt like an eternity, I forced my head up and saw Skype was pulled up on the screen. I was looking at a dark room, there were some boxes in the back, and possibly furniture, but they were covered with sheets as if someone were moving. And then, there in the middle of the screen, was a person. They were just standing there, in what appeared to be dirty robes, with their head tilted to the side a bit, their black hair hanging a bit past their ears. And it/he/she was just looking at me.

   I couldn’t move; I couldn’t think. We were just watching each other. And then there was that scream again.    

    I jumped out of my bed, slammed the laptop down, threw some shorts and shoes on, and grabbed my laptop. The hairs on my neck stood up; the dark apartment that was normally a comfort to me, was foreign and hostile. Fuck this. I grabbed my keys, ran out the door, down the buildings dark hall, and started down the stairwell. I thought I heard something below me, and stopped for a second to see if I could hear it again. When nothing happened, I continued running down the stairs and out the building.

I got in my car, and dropped my keys as I tried to put them in the ignition. I managed to get them in the second try and as shaken up as I was, I made it into town without smashing into anything. I pulled into the lot of a grocery store, got out, picked up my laptop, and chucked it into the dumpster. I hurried back into my car and just sat there for a moment.

  After I had calmed down a bit, I thought maybe that was a bit of an over reaction; I could’ve just turned it off, and taken it to geeksquad, or thrown it in my own dumpster, but honestly that incident scared the shit out of me, and I wanted my computer far, far away from me. I drove back home, thinking whatever that was, it was over.

    A few days went by, and nothing particularly eventful happened, and I was putting that whole thing behind me. Until I started getting the packages. Unmarked boxes started arriving for me; a clay pot, a knife, there was no pattern, no sense to it.  I needed to find out what the hell was going on, so I followed my only lead and started asking my friends about that guy at the party. The one who started all of this. Of course I didn’t have a name so a vague physical description was all I could give them. No surprise every time I asked someone about him, they didn’t know who I was talking about. Until I asked my friend Donnie.

Turns out the creeps name was Mark, and they go way back. And Mark hasn’t been heard from lately. But Donnie was able to give me Marks address. Turns out he only lived a couple blocks from me. I was going to go over there and ask him what the hell 466453 is, and what is going on.

“Tell Mark to call me sometime,” Donnie yelled back to me. “That guy’s hilarious.”

     I plugged his address into my phone’s GPS, and started walking there. I had a few hours before class and I wanted some answers so I could actually focus on something besides this shit.

    "You’ve arrived at your destination,“ a robotic voice called out from my phone.

    The first thing I noticed about Mark’s house, was that it was a dump. The second thing I noticed was an eviction notice on the front door.

    "Fucking great,” I let out, exasperatedly. I was going to go back to class, with no answers, and go back home to deal with god knows what there; I couldn’t take it. I was desperate. I walked over to the windows and cupped my hands around my face to look in. Maybe he hadn’t left yet, maybe he was home. It was dark inside, there was a lot of empty space, but as I peered through the dusty window I noticed some boxes against the back wall, and then to the corner furniture covered by cloths.

    "Shit, Fuck!“ It was the room on my computer screen the other night. I nearly tripped backwards turning around, and I fucking ran. Either Mark has been the one doing this or… I didn’t even want to consider the other option. Either way I was calling the cops. Its funny, when this stuff is happening on the internet, you think it’s some sicko thousands of miles away. In some small town in Wisconsin probably. You never expect them to be local.

    "Maybe he’s not really a local,” I thought to myself as I sprinted, a million scenarios racing through my mind. I ran into my apartment building, and started leaping up the stairway, two stairs at a time. I wanted to just get into my apartment, and gather my thoughts for a moment and call the police. This whole thing was way the fuck out of hand.

“Maybe he just gets people’s IP address and heads to their city.”  Visions of some tech savvy, grifter popped, uninvited, into my mind. I ran down my hallway. “I mean he clearly got my address from my computer or - he knows where I live.” The thought made my stomach drop, my blood became icy, and I felt the life drain out of me. “How could I have forgotten he knows where I live?” I asked myself numbly, as I stood there at my door looking down at a new package that had arrived for me.

    I just stood there looking at my door, time suspended. I could go in, and risk him possibly being in there waiting for me, or I could just leave. “Of course,” I began to rationalize to myself, “if he were in there waiting to kill me or something, it wouldn’t really make sense to leave a package I’d never open.” I can’t really explain why I wanted to go in. The more reasonable thing to do would’ve been to call the cops and run out the building. Maybe it’s because it was MY home and I had some primal need to defend it, or maybe I was desperate for an answer to all of this, I really don’t know.

But I felt my hand, slowly going for my keys. I bent down picked up the package - no return address - and slowly put the key into the door nob. It’s like I was someone else, watching me. The door opened slowly, and I peeked through the opening.     

    And it was just how I left it. Nothing disturbed, no one waiting to kill me. I jumped inside, shut my door, locked it, and put the package on the kitchen table. I grabbed a knife to open what I was determined to make the last creepy package I’d ever get. As I held the knife, a thought occurred to me that this was the knife I had received from either Mark, or the mysterious grifter.  I almost laughed. I sliced through the tape that sealed my new gift, opened the box up, and looked down to see my laptop with a post it note stuck to the top. “Turn it on” was all that was written on the note.

    I reached into my pocket, grabbed my phone, and dialed 911. I explained to the operator my situation, as best I could. I probably sounded like a crazy person, but she said an officer would be right over. Ten minutes or so went by, maybe it was more, maybe it was less, I don’t really know. I was sitting in my chair when I thought I heard something out my door. I jumped up and thinking of the police, whipped the door open.

    And there, laying on the floor, was Mark’s severed head, bleeding out in front of my door. My phone beeped. Numbly and instinctively, I reached into my pocked and pulled it out. I looked at it to see I had a new email. From myself. “Marks dead now. You killed Mark.” I just stood there, looking at his dead unblinking eyes.

    I’m writing this now, as a wait for the police to show up, because really I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. A man’s severed head is in front of my door.

   I want you to go to and look something up. I think if you’re tech savvy, maybe you can find out who this psycho is or where he’s at. If you’re not, you can still use the site and help me. If this happens to someone else it’ll prove I didn’t kill Mark, and that my story is legit. So type into your browser, and let’s see what happens. Please help me.

It's a netbook, but it isn't bad.

Netbook upgrade complete!  This bad boy now has a 500GB Seagate Momentus HDD (Western Digital Scorpio Black lost by a nose), 2GB of RAM (up from 1GB), and still runs the ever reliable Windows XP. No, it’s not Windows 7, and yes, Microsoft isn’t releasing further updates for the OS, but I think XP is 100% more suited for the humble netbook.

I’m surprisingly pleased with this new setup.

Now to make coffee and revel in the fact that I finished all of this two hours before my second class starts.