Yeah, but that's you feeling bad for Chris. Remember, Chris thinks that as long as he believes he is worldly and cultured hard enough, it is so.
I do die a little on the inside when I read about a guy who's so sheltered that his grand romantic fantasy involved a hotel room adorned with Glade plug-in air fresheners. Not bouquets of wild flowers, not lamps filled with exotic essential oils, but fucking Glade. But it always helps to remember that Chris had an upbringing that, for all his loud claims of turmoil, was still a good deal more privileged than that experienced by many people you'd encounter every day. Hell, that bedtime routine he describes in a A Week With Christian Chandler sounds so downright pleasant that I almost - almost - felt a sense of envy when I first read it.
We all know that Chris is hella autistic, but I was watching this special about an American man that had regressive autism and could only communicate with his family through Disney Dialogue. Needless to say, this guy was sweet; Chris' r.etarded attempt at relatability through terrible TV commercials only embellishes the fact that the association areas in his brain are cut off from each other.
