This is a pandora's box which you, quite frankly, probably should not have opened. If there's anything vainer than a hippopotomous with an endoscopy probe, it's probably me. The mere fact that I plan to devote an entire section of this website as a monument to my own admittedly insignificant existance should really only further condemn me in the eyes of you, my would-be audience. So strap yourselves in, grab a bag of corn nuts, and get ready for the man, the mystery, the phenomenon that is. . . Zach Baker.
My picture should be over somewhere on the right. Feel free to point and stare. It's the only decent one I had available at the time. . . hopefully in the future I'll find the time to locate a suitably cool one, instead of this craptacular fashion catastrophe involving my graduation gown. Something involving a cool car, some sunglasses, and a tuxedo, perhaps. If I haven't lost your interest yet, feel free to scroll down and read on. . .
Really, I usually dress better
My humble tale has its beginnings in the small town of Mattawan, Michigan. I wasn't really born there, exactly, nor did I live there forthe first 8 years of my operational lifetime, but when it started to get interesting, that's where all of the interesting stuff went down. From second grade up until high school graduation, my education was handled by the fine staff of Mattawan Consolidated Schools, and, in their defense, they didn't completely botch the job, as I seem to have turned out all right. With any luck, this web page will never surface in front of any of my English teachers, as they'd surely have a heart-attack or six at my poor grammar and style, as compared with the intentionally good stuff I put into all of my papers. I'd meant to include a picture of this place to the left, but they took down the one that used to be on their web page. Hopefully the one that I have actually placed here is a decent substitute, and no one will notice.
At any rate, it was at more or less this point that I formed most of the more significant friendships in my life.. . . we're a jolly group, and a remnant of an earlier age. Despite the fact that we've all moved away to different colleges, we all hang out together whenever we get the chance--mostly weekends and holidays. Apparently no one told us that we were supposed to drift apart after high school ended. At any rate, all of the freaks to which I am referring appear in the picture below, and none of us look anything like the picture. However, it's the only known photograph of us all in the same place. I'm the dude on the right wearing the Zero shirt, if you care. At any rate, many of these people are described/pictured in my Rogues Gallery . It has juicy gossip about what a loser I am, so, by all means, check it out!!
As you'll no doubt discover eventually, I want very badly to be either a Superhero, or a Rockstar, or both. Thusly, I love halloween, as it gives me a chance to be a Superhero, or a Rockstar, or both. And that's where these two disturbing pictures come from--my own repressed desire to be something I'm not, and my knowledge that you're thirsty for more humiliating pictures of me, the more humiliating the better. Well, fine, I'll give them to you.
In the picture to the left, I feature a makeup job applied by yours truly. . . I cam up with this costume over the course of 10 minutes, just before leaving for a halloween party, and it remains one of my best-looking to date. I've always liked the movie "the crow" and I figured it would be a quick and easy look to pull off. And so it was.
The picture below displays the height of my fanciful idiocy, and is the result of several months worth of careful forethought, ultimately torn apart by my own inability to locate a pair of silver pants. Regardless, it was perhaps the most ambitious of my costumes, and it nevertheless accurately reflects my almost fanatical devotion to the rock band The Smashing Pumpkins, whose music remains in my CD player with an altogether daunting persistance.
Fin