Once upon a time there was this dude named Stuart. Some folks called him Stu but it wasn’t something that he actively encouraged but he tolerated it because, well, what are you going to do? Yell at folks for abbreviating your name? It’s a blessing to be remembered at all these days what with all the television and junk food and stuff blowing out your head and mucking up your attitude so he let it slide and when someone would say, “Hey Stu!” He would say, “Harya?” And they would say, “I’m doing well. How are you, Stu?” And he would say, “Stuart is A-OK.” To make his point however subtly and subliminally and because Stuart was generally polite and only let his anger simmer beneath the surface where, well, to get ahead of ourselves here it eventually manifests itself in him as a series of brutal cancers of various kinds that, well–damn, that’s a whole different can of tragic beans that we’ll keep closed for the time being. But back to our initial tale here, right, so, Stuart also known as Stu was this dude that was doing alright by most metrics, maybe not the most active sex life, sure, but he had some money in the bank and his debts were minuscule and he had a decent head of hair and not a bad singing voice when it came to karaoke or in the shower or at church which served him well with folks because I don’t know about you but when I hear some toneless citizen sawboning some famous jingle to death, well, what can I tell you that you don’t already know? So let’s all agree that we all agree that it’s agreed that it should be a crime and plug our ears and carry on. Anyways, our man Stuart here would not be found guilty of that crime because he could carry a tune and that is one of the check marks in the pro’s column on the sheet of his life. He has a bunch of check marks in that column actually, like no b.o., an aversion to using curse words, generally polite, pretty fair, large cock, and a few other minor things that still chalk up to a net positive. His con’s column still has check marks, sure, but whose doesn’t? Mine has its share sure, and so does yours so don’t @ me because it wouldn’t do any good anyway. #IToldYouSo. But Stuart’s cons are generally pretty tame like how he drinks diet soda and listens to new country and maybe there’s a check in the addicted to Cobra blood column. I don’t know about you but I did not see that one coming. Where does one score Cobra blood anyway? I mean outside the black market stalls and stands and kiosks of the darkest back alleys in the wildest cities of Southeast Asia. I suppose these days you can order pretty much anything online so perhaps that’s how he gets his Cobra blood but I’m still curious. Because I know he has never been to Saigon. If any of you might know feel free to @ me. So Stuart has a Cobra blood problem. Who really cares? What are you going to do? Sue him? For shooting up with Cobra blood? I don’t think there’s a law against it except in the court of public opinion or in one of those mystical kingdoms ruled by some kind of Snake Queen or Reptilian Council but as far as actual Normaltown legalities go I don’t think so. In fact I know so. And so should you. Unless you’re ignorant. Which you may be. But I don’t judge. So whatever. Think or don’t or kind of or maybe. It does a bit matter because Stuart is going to Stu regardless of what you or I or them think and while we’re all checking those boxes in the columns on our own sheets of life, you know, I don’t think he gives a damn. Well, not so much of a damn. Well, just enough that it will eventually give him cancer. But that’s a story for another day. God bless and sweet dreams.