Keith Pille: Yeah, probably. I seem less weird to myself, but occasionally I'll get some perspective outside of my bubble and realize how strange my little world is. Like, I'm always surprised to realize that other people don't sing popular songs around the house with the lyrics reworked to be about their cats ("it's getting hot in herre/ let's take off all our fur!").

On the other hand, I don't put any effort into being weird these days. That's a big departure from, say, my late teens and early twenties, when maybe 30% of my energy went into being weird.

Don Pizarro: Well, if you count developing a taste for smooth jazz weird. Especially after playing "real" jazz in college and preaching intolerance toward smooth jazz in a manner that made me look like Pat Robertson by comparison.

That being said, Kenny G and Boney James are still Satan's minions. In my fantasy world, they would be be shot on sight. Daily.

Simon Riordan: As a person ages, if they are not becoming weirder, then something is wrong. That person is too comfortable and too steady and caught in a rut. Better break out, fool, before your life is a flash of 30 years of commuting and sitting on your ass! I will say this though, I am more regular than ever and that is a very good thing.

To answer Mr. A. Nerd's query, though: to respond, "Oh, I'm definitely weirder than ever!" can also be seen as trumpeting your coolness. I prefer to be who I be. If you can't rock wid it, then you must like classical.

Jonathan Shipley: I don't know if I'm getting weirder or if the world itself is getting
weirder and they're just catching up to me.

I wonder about that sometimes when I'm bathing.

Amethyst Vineyard: I am definitely getting less weird as I get older. When I was a small child, my parents thought I was mildly retarded (only, being Southerners, they said "a sweet, simple soul") because I was too afraid of them to talk to them. I was positive that whatever I said would sound incredibly stupid, which would make sense, because I was four. See, that's crazy. I used to sleepwalk all the time, and once, in the fourth grade, I actually sleep-wrote a piece of dialogue. As a teenager I would regularly come to school 'in character' and had an endless fountain of energy, much like that which God grants psychotics. This is all DSM-IV stuff. In an adult, it would be called 'paranoid schizophrenia', and I'm happy to say that I no longer hear voices, switch personalities with relative ease, or truly believe in vampires or fairies. Ghosts, yes, vampires, no.