Just shorten his name to"Meth Rules Drysdale". Though it would still present some problems in a decade or so if a teenage friend was looking for him walking through a festival crowd shouting “Meth, hey Meth, where are you?”
This name reminds me of the moment I learned that I would never try crystal meth:
One Saturday night in college, the idiots downstairs had a party. After it died out I was with a couple friends on the balcony of our place as 2 of my downstairs neighbors came outside. One started to walk off aimlessly then bent down as if to tie his shoe, when suddenly he went flat on his back and started having a seizure on the concrete. His buddy was watching and just sat there laughing hysterically.
We were shocked; trying to figure out what we should do while he seized. Once the seizure stopped he stood up and stumbled back towards his buddy. After a couple unsteady steps, he stood up straight raised his hand high and called out as strongly as he could,
“Crystal Meth Rules, Man!”
It was a moment of high-potency, crystalized idiocy that I still remember clearly