He seems to be caught up in a series of existential crises and quandries.
To wit:
Why is he lying on a vintage golden handbag? Silver is more his color.
What is he doing with his legs, and why is he doing it?
What is up with that pile of crap behind him? Is someone putting off tidying the junk room again?
How long is it going to take the noob who runs this blog to find his real digital camera and stop taking such crappy cell phone pics?
And, most importantly of all:
How can he do the "Yorick" monologue from Hamlet if he can't find that prop skull? It better not be sitting in some booth somewhere! Just sayin'.
It's probably under all that crap behind him.
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