...And he actually directs them to his YouTube channel. I mean, it's a given, but that means Lucas STILL thinks that the videos of him on his channel, with raw prime rib hanging out of his mouth as he lies shirtless on his bed, the videos of him screaming into an empty street, these are still good methods of attracting a romantic partner.
Whew.
I dont even know.
Also, regarding
@A Big Bumbling Black Man 's incredible above post, which literally made me practically spit out my lunch with a spontaneous laugh, I know it's in extremely poor form to give cows money, but if we could guarantee that Lucas would wear a propeller beanie at all times, like if we could somehow staple it or super glue it to his Friar Tuck balding pate, I would buy that sucker myself.
Heck, maybe staples wouldn't even be necessary, if we could convince Lucas that the best way to fight the menace of the Flatbills was by joining the powerful ranks of their nemeses, The Propeller Crowns. The only headgear royal enough in stature to top the not-at-all gourd-shaped head of Spokane's most popular single gentleman.
(Maybe he could also wear a small portable speaker around his neck that played circus calliope music. There. Perfect.)
Edit: You can measure the length of a man's telomeres by how low his pendulous moobs dangle. If they're at nipple height, man, that's bush league. If they're approaching the navel, you're moving in the right direction, but you'll never be in the Pros with that lack of conviction. Try mixing some Reese's peanut butter cups in with your litres of Pepsi; try eating a handful of seaweed chips in lieu of brushing your teeth before you go to bed, and maybe one day you too can come to eventually rest your furry pepperonis on your knees, showing the world that now you're playing with power!