Fandom. Look, I get it. It’s a serious emotion. I love celebrities. I love movies. I love pop culture. I love cake. Sometimes, I find myself obsessing about the red velvet cupcakes from Magnolia so much that I can’t move. If I meet Oprah IRL I will most likely stroke-out and die instantly. One time, I found out I was holding something that Trent Reznor once held and I started crying. Like I said, fandom: it’s a big deal.
But when it gets too legit, there’s a thing in our brain that tells us to take it back a sec. Our bodies know when we’re creeping a little too close and we shut it down.
And then there’s this guy:
This guy doesn’t have that thing in his brain.
In case you can’t make it out, that’s Julia Roberts’ face. MULTIPLE permanent tattoos of Julia Roberts’ face. All over his body.
I love Julia, don’t get me wrong, but this look is MUCH. MUCH to the max.
This guy would be terrifying without the tattoos. I have a panic disorder, so if I were Julia Roberts, I’d be scared if a little old lady walked up to me. If this guy asked for an autograph? I’d go into a fear-coma ON THE SPOT. “Sorry, Finn and Hazel. Mommy can’t do this anymore.”
People are cuh-razy. And yet, I find myself hoping that one day I’ll be famous enough to warrant someone covering themselves in my image. That’s better than any Oscar I could ever win.