The year I got to call a bunch of you for my birthday, my Mom was vaguely creeped out. That is still one of the best birthday presents I've ever had. Although this coming birthday I will be able to hold my three week old second-born child on my birthday, and that will probably be better. No offense. It's just that last time I had a baby he was born three weeks after my birthday, so all I got on my actual bday was a steak dinner and no wine, and also braxton-hicks contractions and lower back pain.
Point is, when something comes up in meat life (love that phrase), I just say "this guy I know was on Jeopardy, he was up against Lex Luthor," or "my friend worked at the National Zoo and let me touch a naked mole rat, and it felt like a flaccid penis." Usually it ends there, especially with the latter story, because y'all are so interesting that most people care more about the story itself than how I actually know all these amazing people.
But when it does come up, I'm all, "yeah, we met on a message board about a comic strip." And people are usually like, "okay, wierd..." and then I'm all, "I'm really famous on the internet, but nobody knows it. Like MC Frontalot." And then they back away slowly, and I'm reminded why I like you people better than nearly everybody else I encounter.
In other words, fuck meatbags.