If I were wealthy, I would pay this motherfucker to follow me around and do the play-by-play of my life. That goddamn accent kills me. EVERY. DAMN. TIME. I don’t think my wife would appreciate him tagging along everywhere, or my uncontrollable laughter as he commentated us having sex, but I think having him around would improved my quality of life for at least a week. After that I’d have to bury his body in the Everglades because my wife would commit murder. But, man, I’d never forget that week.