So, as you may know by looking at my profile picture, I recently met Bo Burnham. And by "I recently met Bo Burnham," I really mean "I sat outside of his show in Graham Chapel for over an hour before chasing after him as he tried to leave the venue in peace." It was truly exhilarating, not just because I loved New Math even before I hit puberty (side note: this was when I was roughly 17, so I'm not as ahead of the game as I may seem). No, there was something more that was so exciting, something that exists in all of us: the desire to become wildly famous to the point where psychos will waste hours of their lives to merely take a picture with you.
The Pussycat Dolls and I are certainly not alone in this thought. There is something innately human about wanting to become rich and famous for doing something for which you, realistically, don't deserve to be either rich or famous. I'm not saying Bo Burnham doesn't deserve to not be super rich; he's clearly better than all of us and we knew that by the time he was 17. I'm talking about someone more along the lines of Guy Fieri; he's a terrible monster and he needs to be stopped. The guy has no friends and a stupid haircut, yet, he has more money and fame than me. So it goes.
And I think we'd all even take a chance to be Guy Fieri. Ok, maybe that's not a good example. Guy Fieri is put-your-fist-though-a-TV levels of awful, so maybe the Kardashians are a better example. They offer no value to society, they're singlehandedly dumbing down our national discourse, and Kim is a hobbit. But I would totally take their lives if I could (note: I mean this in a Freaky Friday way, not a me murdering their family to get famous way. [noteception: maybe the second part isn't such a bad idea, I bet I could swing that into a reality TV show]).
Hmm, it seems that I've really strayed far from the intent of this article, which was to make you all feel inferior for not stalking Bo Burnham with me. And for those of you who did stalk Bo Burnham with me, this article was meant to be a little complaint about how his signature is slowly fading off of my arm. It's a true tragedy, perhaps the greatest one our society is facing today. Aside from Guy Fieri's two functional restaurants.
