Hello. Nice to see you. Sit down and shut up. Feel free to look around, but don't touch anything, dammit.
As the resident psychotic here at The Fly, I take pride in my bipolar ways; attempting sensible discourse on one page and flinging venom around like candy at Halloween on another.
Room to Swing a Cat: In September of 2009 I, along with several others, gathered together to create The Fly: an e-zine with no clear agenda other than to provide a meeting space for those who used to be regular comment posters on Slate Magazine's Dear Prudence. An editor there banned our posts, probably because people liked us more than Prudie. RTSAC contains my Dear Prudence replies in a safe, un-editable place, and continues to serve me as a weekly method of Primal Scream Therapy, given 99% of the letter writers who seek this king of help are blithering idiots of the worst kind.
Deceptively Simpleminded: this blog dates back to 2007, but in that time I do not believe anyone actually read it, or if they did they paid it little attention. D.S. is your garden variety, vanilla, class 1, typical blog parade wherein I both posit and probe through questions thoughts about why life is life and what we do about it, all written from the standpoint of an English-major college dropout who spent much of his life as a disaffected and confused Republican because that's what his parents told him to be. No subject is taboo, too scary, or too stupid here, and group participation is encouraged.
Psuds (pronounced "suds"). I like beer. Many guys do. Adding to this stereotype, though, is a dilemma: I am a beer snob. I know what I like about beer, too, but technically I am witless about it, because even though I have tried hundreds of them I have never, ever tried to be a true connoisseur of beer. Until now. Commentors recomend different taprooms and beers, and my reviews - published as I can get to them - offer a personal glimpse of them. Stop by for a pint!