Yes It does suck to be him. Guess he never learned to put on his big boy pants and grow up.
The brain-damaged primitive is 60 years old, give or take a year either way; never married.
A rather beefy (240 pounds) short (5'10") unaesthetic guy.
He lives in a red area of New Jersey (and constantly complains about it, as if there aren't plenty of blue areas in New Jersey where he can live), and has a home-based "business," apparently tracking down hard-to-find automotive parts and "designing" web-sites for automotive-parts companies. He's not doing too well, especially right now.
He was "too good" to take an honest menial blue-collar job in the local factory forty years ago, in which case he'd now be sitting prettier than he is. (This is a common characteristic among "self-employed" primitives; their career snobbery and an exaggerated notion of their talents.)
^^all information above provided by the brain-damaged primitive himself, on Skins's island.
This
60-year-old man calls dogs "woggies" and cats "kittehs;" he's weird, and if I were a dog or a cat or a child or a woman, I'd steer far out of his way.
I always "picture" the brain-damaged primitive as being blunt-faced, no refinement at all in his features, a grey crew-cut, his two eyes out of alignment on his face (i.e., one eye slightly lower than the other), and one of those eyes with a blurry, clouded lens.
God compels us to be compassionate to the ugly and the brain-damaged, but as the brain-damaged primitive's
self-created human dross, I suspect this is an exception.