By now, most of you have likely seen the footage of old Cleetus from Miami attempting to kite surf in the meteorological bitch that is “Fay”. If you haven’t, you clearly haven’t been checking your local CBS4 newswatch, people!

As a pillar of the media community and a local celebrity, my first reaction upon witnessing the bone-crushing glory of the video that has been dubbed by some (i.e., me) as “Biopic of a Misunderstood Genius” was to organize a charity event for Cleetus’ face-replacement surgery. Upon further reflection, however, it struck me that Cleetus did not deserve my pity, or my money. Not because he is a tremendous douche who effectively spat in the face of God, but rather because his so-called incident didn’t even compare to my recent trip to Miami. If anyone should be pitied, it is me. My mother was right. So was yours.

Allow me to set the scene: Me and my “bros” decided to hit the Florida coast for the annual Kite Surfing and Needlepoint Invitational - that’s just how we roll. As always, I had my videographer Lance (Chilton) along for the ride, whose sole mission in life is to document the unparalleled accomplishments of the Food Court Lunch quad. Upon arrival at the beach, I scoped the scene and hit the water for my first run. And guess what, Cleetus - it sucked way worse than yours: 

Not one to be put off my game by a minor setback like “death by shark maul”, I persevered. And this happened:

And then this:

And finally, this:

So you know what, Cleetus? Your antics don’t impress me. Now give me some money.