Post-Modern Drunk: My Mom Thinks I'm Cool!
My posts are like my children. I spend as little time on them as I have to to get them out into the world, I beat them into shape occasionally, and they never turn out as well-adjusted and presentable as I'd like them to. But, regardless, they are what I have to carry my name forth out into the world, so I have to live with them. I keep a lot of them locked up, but every once in awhile, you have to push them out to live on their own, to get mocked and belittled by someone other than me.

But for those of you who come to meet my family of neuroses for the first time, it's sometimes hard to tell where to start. I've been writing for two years, after all, and so there are a lot of these bastards sitting there in the archives.

Still, here are a couple that I'm not too embarassed about seeing out in public. Be careful--they're shy.

• snotgreen and scrotumtightening. James Joyce can suck it.
  
  
• The Devil and Post-Modern Drunkard. The Devil appeared to me on a flaming pie and said "Stu, with a U." And it was so. Funny postscript to this story: half a week later I realized that the Devil was actually Kim Deal, and our appointment was probably the Pixies show.
  
  
• First Time as Tragedy, Second Time as Farce. Did you know I was flammable? Probably all that booze I've consumed.
  
  
• Don't Touch Your Moustache
  
  
• By Order of the Town Drunk. Meet Biff.
  

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the cause of--and solution to--all of our problems				toxic random ten (12/2/05)

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