When I was 18 months old I contracted a cool infection which led to something cool called Third Nerve Palsy (or Oculomotor Neuropathy when I want to feel like Patch Adams), which resulted in cool damage to the nerve which supplies the majority of the muscles controlling eye movements. So in layman’s terms:
any questions
So after a few surgeries I now look like Forest Whitaker and as you can expect, I can have any woman I want. Sunglasses seem like the perfect solution to hide from the hordes of female admirers but unfortunately sunglasses just make everyone who wears them even cooler — except people like my brother who has one of those noses where the glasses sit really high on his face and make him look like he’s Bernie from Weekend at Bernies or Hillary Clinton — so that doesn’t really work.
The real reason I’m grateful for sunglasses is because they allow me to coexist anonymously with all you Normie 2-Eyes. I could be sitting next to you on the bus and there’s no reason for you to suspect I’m anything other than a regular fellow biclops on his way to work at the local work office (I haven’t had a workjob for a while). Imagine being Eddie Murphy and having a young Paul Reiser following you around yapping in your ear like in Beverly Hills Cop 2. Paul Reiser represents insecurity (obvs). Now imagine punching him in his mulleted little head and dropping him. That’s what it feels like when I put on sunglasses. You know he’s going to get up and start yapping again in a few hours because that’s who he is, but it’s nice to get a break.