Hey, everyone. As you can see, I have microphone strapped to my head, so I probably know what I’m talking about.

But you probably already intuited that I probably know what I’m talking about just by the way I strut across the stage and use my hands to emphatically gesture while I use my glorious head mic.

I mean, just look at my hands. Would I make this bowl-shaped gesture with them while wearing a headset mic if I didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about? And did I just say “intuited”? Yes. Yes, I did.

Know my audience? Fuck you, audience. I’m the one with the headset microphone. Fuck. Yoooouuuu!!!

Why fuck you? Why? Why fuck you?

For starters, look at my head. It’s like I’m Steve Jobs, right? I’m about to announce those Macs that came in different colors back in the ’90s.

But I’m not Steve Jobs. (Spoiler alert: dead.)

Then who am I and how did I come to have this mic strapped to my head?


I’m a creative who’s also very rich. Probably. So maybe I have an agency, which I sold or something. I guess. An agency that does something with someone. Probably clients. And maybe I figured it all out at an early age. I broke the rules. I disrupted a paradigm. Or something. Whatevs. Now I have 30 million dollars in the bank.

That’s the important thing: 30 million dollars.

It lets me strap whatever the fuck I want to my head. Today, it’s a mic. Tomorrow, who knows? A duck? A Duchamp? 29 million dollars?

Ah, just try me, motherfuckers. You will listen to me.

Of course, I could be a non-creative, too. I’m probably just some Silicon Valley tech someone. Not very creative at all. Unless I’m really up here as a Iraqi war veteran with a life lesson to impart, a book to sell, and a CAA agent to feed, right?

Whatever. It would certainly give me license to strap this motherfucking mic on my head and uptalk to you for an hour. If not, what the fuck is 30 million dollars good for?

So I am probably one of those things. Something like that. In any case, I hope you’re recording all this on an iPad or something.

This is important.

I mean, I’m not up here wearing this thing on my head like an old-timey coal miner that has a well-rehearsed stock speech rather than a case of black lung for my health. I have, like, 40 or 50 million dollars.

So. Listen up, you dumb head mic-less wonders out there. There’s a reason I’m amplified and you’re not.

And while you’re at it, just look at this thing on my head.

It has a tiny flesh-colored ball as the microphone. It matches my skin. (I am also flesh-colored, which you probably also noticed by now.)

But let’s be honest. For a second, you thought that I might have a giant mole on my cheek, right?

So then you remembered someone, a flesh-colored someone, who gets to wear a headset microphone and probably has 70 million dollars definitely would not have a terrifyingly large mole. That person would have the mole removed with a laser.

Oh, maybe that’s what I do! Laser the moles from children in laser-impoverished countries. I do it though crowdfunding or an app or something. If you get a mole lasered, we promise to laser one child in your name.

And now I’m rich. I mean. I’m humbled, of course. So many moles.

So that fully explains why you’re listening a person who cannot be bothered to hold a microphone. My good work with mole children. Sad, ugly mole children. And the life lessons the mole children taught me.

So about those life lessons. Wait. Is my head-mic conveying life lessons loud enough? Can you hear me in the back? Should I make more of my statements sounds like questions?

We all like it when someone with a headset mic does that, right?

So. About the way I ask “right?” at the end of my sentences. Or do I simply state “right.”? It doesn’t matter. The important point is that that I’m skull mic-ing the fuck out of each and every one of you.

That’s the life lesson here.

Is it something I’m saying? Or the way I’m saying it like you’re a group of not-so-bright children, and I’m an adult and I need to sit you down and tell you that mommy and daddy are no longer going to live together full time.

It could be the 100 million dollars I just happen to have.

So, here’s the thing. It’s none of that.

We all know it’s this head mic, right.

So you better fucking listen to me, right?