Phloighd, today, is more rumor than man. Where truth starts and bullshit ends is difficult to determine.
1998
Linked to scandals and glories, triumphs and idiocy, attempted pyroflatulation contests, and blue waffles.
He once quit his job and hitchhiked across country to win a bet, that slack was more important than money. (Everyone lost that bet.) Jobs he has claimed to hold include nail fetcher, wound tender, cloud watcher, and telephone surveyor. A rumor once circulated revealing he was a prostitute, but that's obviously untrue. I mean, look at him.
At a costume ball, he revealed his favorite superhero is Freakazoid, prompting the frequent nickname "F!"
Phloighd has been to the Taphouse, but hates beer, and thus has never been inducted into The Taphouse Cabal, possibly due to his longstanding ill reputation from the FEFnet Years.
He appears briefly in The Kentucky Boys Documentary.
Photographed frequently in the company of beautiful women who gaze at him adoringly; later they will recount long stories of deep psychological torture.
In the summer of 2001, Saint N invited Phloighd on stage for the second time that evening, after previously auctioning his famed golden hair to Lilith Von Fraumench for twenty dollars, same as in town. Saint N turned on a beat, to which Phloighd sputtered "If I get all the way through this, you're really gonna like this." He then proceeded to rhyme a four minute subgenius hymn from drunken memory to the amazement of all.
2001, pre-shearing
During the splinter movement away from alt.slack.woods, Phloighd was a founder of #subgenius.woods, the world's first experiment with internet relay camping. Records of the event are intact, though facts are hazy. Indeed, the rumors of forced bondage, kinky teen sex, and bizarre blacklight-ink orgies that emerged from these times caused irrevocable fractures through time and space that, some say, few give a shit about.
He is known to have died at X-Day at least four times.
For two years Phloighd was employed at Brushwood Folklore Center as ... something. Records of actual job duties are unclear, though the Xday celebrations those summers were probably the last really fun ones. After the second summer, Brushwood's owners forced Phloighd off the property at spearpoint for various yet mysterious violations, and he disappeared underground once more.
In the late 2000's, Phloighd's penchant for devouring his own foot at the absolute worst time demanded his banishment from many yeti gatherings. "The Troll Too Far" burned bridges and demanded bloodshed, and a grateful nation turned to Phloighd after he told some inopportune truth. The condemnation was quick, and little of value was lost. Yet sightings of Phloighd -- at GWAR shows with extra tickets, in grainy videos urinating on Jerry Falwell's grave, or at federal detention facilities -- continue to be reported. Why they continue to be reported is anyone's guess.