stephen g

I was born within the walls of an Irish castle on October 21, 1681. The master of the house was a mister Edmond DeSwitch who had a keen interest in the art of alchemy. Though a complete failure in every aspect of his work, his incessant fumbling with God's video game led to severe consequences for all who surrounded them. Mutations of mind and... more »

I was born within the walls of an Irish castle on October 21, 1681. The master of the house was a mister Edmond DeSwitch who had a keen interest in the art of alchemy. Though a complete failure in every aspect of his work, his incessant fumbling with God's video game led to severe consequences for all who surrounded them. Mutations of mind and body were not altogether uncommon in this household, which ultimately resulted in my departure at the tender age of one. Having left my thousands of brothers and sisters behind, I traveled the world in search of wisdom and new forms of mayonnaise. As I have always lived in the shadow of emphatic irony I found my next home within of the walls at the base of the Australian Illuminati. For many years, I inadvertently soaked up millions of memes of above average information which further mutated my consciousness creating an intellectual wanderlust which eventually drove me to Great Britain where I found an odd sect of apple obsessed chaos worshipers. Within their temple walls my third eye opened, revealing the goddess in all her majesty I found myself face to face with the goddess Eris who, finding me cute and less annoying than her other saints, sainted me on the spot and introduced me to her good friend Timothy Leary. Timothy in turn introduced me to an electric cheeseburger who eventually talked me into taking over the mind of Ronald Regan and forcing him to run for president. In the body of the Gipper, I became hooked on crack and completely screwed the U.S.A. condemning it to hundreds of years of masochistic frivolity. I looked upon my creation and saw that it was good. However, since my importing of crack had completely buggered the lower class, I began to feel guilty. So I did the only sensible thing. I abandoned the president's body and dedicated my life to making sure that broccoli will never again seize the reigns of the world. For those of you who are not personally familiar with my dear friend Eris I must say that her reputation as a trickster is not overstated. She enlightened me but, being the goddess of chaos, it was only to be expected that she would play a trick. One night she left me without a trace. That morning when I awoke I found that I was missing two appendages and that I had gone all squishy and pale in addition to a considerable increase in size. I searched for many years for a way to heal my wounds. Luckily, one day I bumped into the electric cheeseburger at a dive bar on the outskirts of Birmingham, Alabama. I regaled him with my story and he was very sympathetic. Apparently, he hadn’t always been an electric cheeseburger. As it happened, he had also been searching for a way to return his form to it’s previous glory and only recently found a solution. Sadly, the price of that transformation was much too great for his moralistic outlook. It seemed that only large scale human sacrifice would release the power necessary to get me into that level of cosmic swap meet. Having already been the president my hands were already stained with the blood of countless innocents. Nevertheless, murder for personal gain is always wrong. You should only kill for fun or revenge. Otherwise you’re a jerk and no better than a soccer mom who drives a hummer. I was still pondering the best course of action when I happened upon a family named Bush, who regularly indulged in mass murder but only for the sake of monetary gain. All that potential energy was just going to waste so I did some things I can’t talk about for obvious reasons and eventually gained the power to transcend life and death. I am now able to manipulate my physical form at will and travel through all fifty six dimensions. Having achieved this, I ate a taco. I wrote my first book "Muffy: or a Transmigration of Selves" in 1999 and subsequently misplaced it. This novel was followed by several screenplays which have also been lost. Recently I discovered "Muffy" hiding in a shoe box in my closet labeled Salvador Dali's Rhenquist. I took that as a sign from Eris to finally unleash it upon the world. And so I did. I encourage everyone to buy at least ten copies and then pile them in the middle of your living room. After that you should strip naked, douse them with gasoline, set them on fire, and dance around them naked while spinning your arms widdershins until your entire home is reduced to ash around you. When you are finished, look up. If you see a multitude of shiny nacho-like creatures flying around your head you have achieved the desired effect. Your consciousness has been successfully transformed. You're welcome. « less