“Jesus, he’s doing it again” I said to my wrinkled self as he nervously fumbled his words in front of that attractive female that he’s sweet on. This guy could unknowingly charm his way into most circles , then blow it all when any light shines upon him. I call this syndrome “Schrodinger’s Idiot.” The poor bastard is an existential eggshell.
He’s not the greatest to be stuck with. He’s always falling from scary heights and shaking up my foundation. He talks to his fellow dirt bag humans constantly about scaling rocks; sticking his arms out in weird ways to describe his movement on the side of a wall. He looks dumb.
He drones on about his music and how important it is to him. When this schmuck finds a new song, I never hear the end of it. Car rides are the worst. How many goddamn times can I listen to Lorde’s “Liability” in a row? Apparently the answer is at least 20.
He also projects a false air of confidence. He’d like you to believe that he’s the master of his own domain, but I’ve witnessed this guy smash his head into a wall while trying to put his right leg into his jeans.
My assessment: 32 years is a long time to be stuck with this hot mess. Darwinism must be a crock of shit, because he’s still very much alive and gaining momentum, like a special needs snowball rolling down a steep hill.
Guest Review by Anthony Tellez.
Disclaimer: Opinions expressed are solely Anthony Tellez’s and do not express the views or opinions of the MHM Podcast Network and Fuzzy Bunny Slippers Entertainment LLC.