The world (or maybe just my collection of Facebook friends) was stunned and saddened last night by the fiery, car-crash demise of actor Paul Walker, famous (pretty much solely – let’s face it) for riding shotgun in the series of Vin Diesel Fast and the Furious films. Not surprisingly, this instantly vaulted him to the top of the hastily re-polled survey, “The Most Ironic Deaths in the History of Everything.” Congratulations, Paul Walker!
Previous title holders include:
Redd Foxx, who suffered a fatal heart attack on the set of his early ’90s sitcom The Royal Family. Foxx famously would imitate a heart attack in his role as Fred Sanford on Sanford and Son, so the cast and crew present at his demise thought this was a gag. Continue reading
[The previous account of Stevie and his clones can be found in Me and My Nineteen (Remaining) Clones]
18 November 2025 – These have been some dark times for me and my eighteen clones. No, not because Fredward’s aorta went up like the Challenger – it’s November, and these jerk clones never let one pass without reminding me how I can’t grow facial hair worth a damn! Try as I might, after all these years, I still can only manage an ugly, inconsistent patchwork of clumps. I don’t even bother anymore, but these sons of bitches go all out for this Movember thing, just to jam it to me! Dicks! Even Hensonite! We figured he couldn’t possibly grow anything on his Muppety face – and look at that argyle beard of his! It’s amazing!
(seated, from left: #35 Tedward, Stevie, #4 Hensonite, #9 Tomfoolery; standing, from left: #14 Kevincible, #46 Delano, #48 Magnus, #17 Matrick; wall: #40 Junior; table: #18 Georange)
(standing, from left – Clone #46 Delano, #20 Vitoadie, #48 Magnus, #23 Bobtail, #40 Junior, #14 Kevincible, seated from left #18 Georange, Stevie, #2 Jackwagon, floor #5 Dantopia)
Everyone thinks it must be so cool, having a bunch of clones. That’s what they always tell me. You’ve got this big pack of friends, you can play crazy tricks on girlfriends and neighbors, and you can test drive different hair lengths and styles without messing up your own head. Also (the way it was described to me early on) you’ve got a huge supply of spare organs, an enormous wardrobe, and multiple doppelgangers means high unlikelihood of assassination. It’s been a weird life.
The clinical story has been recounted by the press and biographers hundreds if not thousands of times, but here it is right from Patient X. I’m Stevie and I’ve got nineteen (remaining) clones. Continue reading
The author, returning home from his day job
In my long and harried career of not writing for a living, my relationship with my crooked assistants had always been amicable, pleasant, and even enjoyable. Our partnership was one of mutual respect and camaraderie, and the fruits of our time together were considerable. But the years were difficult, and the course grew coarser, and my hoary associates bore the brunt of my opprobrium. It was frustration and weariness in part, but lo, it was largely devil intemperance that led me to ruination – yes, intemperance! I can barely bring myself to copy down the events – so chilling, so horrifying they were, and so recklessly egocentric and jejune I was! But the world needs to know of my epic folly! Read on, if you dare! Continue reading