I can barely remember century's dawn, before my persona arrived. I had a job, I owed no debt, I rented an apartment, I wasn't married. My knees didn't hurt when it rained. Then I got involved with McSweeney's, which, according to most dictionaries, is an old Gaelic word meaning ''trendy literary scene.''
Take a few minutes to observe yourself through someone elses eyes, are you too hip for your own good? Are you so full of yourself the shit that comes out your ass shaped like your face? If you see an ego in the road, kill it and immediately reap the benefits of mediocrity, it's not so bad, it's just nobody cares when you're just like everyone else, right? There's only one way to find out.