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Yeah they are a dif group We where Prophets of Doom , not death. I still keep an eye out for anyone from the ol days though. DoomProphet the leader still has a pic page up too but no way to contact him. 

i got my nickname from the title of a indoor percussion show

Ayala HS did a show called "Superficial"
and i simply like the word

i like innuendo too

just because its uncommonly used and sexual innuendos are schweet

Demori was a name i came up with when i was playing a game called Shadowbane.

I got the name from a assassin in a book I was reading, and decided that the personality of the charactor fit.

I used to go by Ghost, but it was an all too widely used name, and it was a ill omen of what would happen to me.

Most my other names are mainly used as jokes. (Harmless mouse)

Raising this tread from the grave!

 My name was bestowed upon me by my brother Giller....see, once upon a time, several members of [GwDR] were dabbling in the art of phone phreaking and other such malicious youngster things and got caught. Sentenced to many many hours of grueling community service Giller and I were forced to work in a home for "special" ppl.

One oh so "sPeCiaL" individual named Sarge grew quite fond of Giller and I. Initially a nuisense as he followed us everywhere, he quickly (unbeknownst to him) became part of a game. It all started with Giller telling Sarge my real name was Cecil (I later found out Giller took the actual name Cecil from the maker of a coffee machine at our work, Cecilware) he also told him that "Cecil likes to play with himself" or something to that effect as Sarge quite frequently informed anyone that would listen that "He liked to play with himself" After that a game quickly formed that would consist of either one of us telling Sarge whatever we could to get him to stop following and go to the other person to bother them, i.e. Giller has a super secret he wants to tell you!! I know, we're going to hell, but it actually made the time go by faster.

To picture Sarge, imagine if you will an older man dressed in his familar food and drool stained scrubs, a slight air of dirty diapers whos almost zombie like shuffle required the assistance of a walker. Attached at the base of his v-neck top by means of a carabiner laid his collection of keys that would put any janitor to shame, the heavy burden stretching the cloth down far past its intended length, reveling a magic carpet of chest hair. His crooked fingers bent into ridged angles and hooks due to his ailment, instruments he frequently used to reach nether regions to satisfy an itch or pleasure. His voice, strained and cracked, with words never fully pronouced.

On clear star filled nights, if you listen closely, you can hear his voice carried upon the wind

screaming "CEEEEEEECCCIIIILLLLLL!!!!!!!" like he would across the atrium

And here I was thinking you were an enforcer of the Ground Water Disinfection Rule.

lol new nickname for him, wherever he went.