Whoever Keeps Spreading Rumors Around About Me Being Really Charming Needs To Stop It Right Now

I’ve been informed that many of you have been talking behind my back. I don’t know who but everything you’ve said, I’ve heard it. Spreading rumors about my “endless charm” and “razor-sharp wit.” I’ve had enough. You better knock it off right now.


Everywhere I go, I walk into rooms full of people who are talking about me in hushed voices and pointing. I can overhear them saying things about my “immaculate charisma” and “infallible beauty.” It’s like high school all over again.


I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. Not even my worst enemy deserves to have their “disarming demeanor” and “formidable yet elegant presence” spoken about at length. Nobody deserves to hear things like that. Except me apparently.


If you want to know what I think about all this stuff going around, here it is: I accept your judgments. Maybe there’s some truth to them. That’s beside the point. The point is I won’t tolerate my “impeccable taste” and “refined sense of the world” being talked about in any capacity. Period.


Unless you are a trusted friend, a starstruck physician, my rabbi who tries his best to maintain professionalism in my presence, my bashful mailman, my kosher butcher, or any other acquaintances who can’t help being sexually attracted to me, keep details of my “suave machismo” and “general warmth” out of your mouth.


If details of my “dazzling stature” or descriptions of my “broad shoulders that look good in a suit” must enter into your mouth, this is a formal warning to do so at your own risk. You’ve heard them when they say, “He has the hearing, and wisdom, of an owl so don’t fawn over him too loudly” or “Shhh! He can hear us talking about his inimitable personality.” I know I have.


And, no, you may not use a loophole by referring to me by another name like “Mr. Handsome” or “Big Baby Blue Eyes.” We all know who you’re talking about when you say things like, “That young Marlon Brando” or “Never in my 57 years as a physician have I seen a penis so large.”


As hard as it may be, imagine if you were the recipient of such hearsay.


I’ve also heard the stories circulating of women, and men, ending their long-term relationships and breaking off engagements after merely hearing of my “unerring decency to people from all walks of life” and my “lean quadriceps.” It’s yet another reason to keep gossip regarding my “unmatched physicality” and “innate generosity to animals” to a minimum.


And if you’re in a deeply committed relationship, don’t even think about having a conversation with your partner about how “criminally underrated” you think I am “even though I’m discussed by everyone a lot.” We all know you’re doing that to test them, wondering if they too have fallen for my apparent “shimmering eyes” and “qualities of a future leader.”


Your partner will inevitably fumble around for a while trying to come up with a way to not mention my “easy smile” and devalue my “impeccable social graces.” You’ll recognize this and cut them off, dismissing the topic entirely. They’ll try to comfort you by saying my “radiant complexion” isn’t really that radiant and that my “mysterious gaze” is actually quite overt. Avoid the trouble altogether by learning to accept the reality that he or she is and will remain attracted to my “gentle disposition” and my “uncomfortably handsome face” forever.


Next time I hear someone starting a smear campaign against my “full eyebrows” and “kissable plump lips” I will have no choice but to intervene. First, you will hear from my hideous attorney—when I represented myself in the past, my presence was far too distracting for the judge who called MANY fifteen minute recesses. For that reason, I’ll be forced to wear a burlap sack over my head on the day of the trial. It’s not an ideal setup but justice is blind and it must remain so.


If you think the outcome of the trial will swing in my favor anyways because of who I am, you’re probably right. The bag method is the best we can do but some say it retains the overall shape of my “angelic countenance.” I simply can’t help looking how I do and being who I am.


So either talk about something else besides how I’ve got the “swagger of a cult leader that you’d let indoctrinate your whole family” or murder me in a sycophantic rage already.