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Umm.. no. The black poet's shirt and the black pants might have something to do with it... or maybe the boots?

Or maybe they think I have a room downstairs with shelves full of labeled jars that say: "-put any name here-'s Soul."

Hmm.. it might be my jars of souls. (Great band name.. along with White Knuckle Fear and Naked House.) No, I have absolutely no musical talent.

But it might honestly actually be the unnerving habit I have of staring over the top of my glasses (Dead-pan look, no expression. Just drawing. Absolutely no facial expressions what-so-ever.) Oh, and I don't say much while drawing, either.