Not yet caffeinated.

He was a typical Macomb County lowlife, tall, ugly, and shaped like Grimace. His truculence was perfectly balanced by bovine complacence.

Despite being fat, he still managed to wear clothes two sizes too large for him (I'm not much on fashion, but I think you have a problem when they start putting coefficients in front of the X's on your clothestags). He'd thrust his head into an ill-fitting baseball cap, the bill curled into an Ohm sign, the edges threatening to pin down his eyelids. It looked like it hadn't been removed since 1995. A shapeless tan Cardhardt jacket further obscured his bulk--must hide inside it year-round, like a hermit crab.

For decoration he wore a lonely little patch of curly hair on his chin. Yep, just on his chin, as if that one little touch could repair all the damage his face had done.

He probably either worked in construction or auto repair, or he was unemployed. He had no use for education, no use for the arts, and consequently, he loved commercial rap and only had enough of an attention span to sit through TV ads sparsely interrupted by basketball.

He would be a huge sports fan, but wouldn't be able to play (on account of his bad knee, which he blew out in junior high [on account of being fat and raised on Arby's and Mountain Dew]). For fun he might go up to Buffalo Wild Wings with his crew, but mostly he'd prefer to stay in his apartment or trailer, smoke grass clippings that smelled like diarrhea, and show off his expanding vocabulary on the internet.

OMG.

U r a fag.

If curiosity really killed the cat, this guy would live forever.

Fortunately, heart disease gets first bid on curiosity's leftovers.