Egghead: Or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone

by Bo Burnham

Fear The first was acro-claustro-homo-arachnophobic, terrified of being trapped in a very small, very high-up place with a bunch of gay spiders. The second was avio-coulro-glosso-metrophobic, terrified of being forced to read poetry to the clown public on an airplane. The third was octo-oneirogmo-kathiso-lutraphobic, terrified of having eight consecutive wet dreams whilst sitting on a pile of otters. The fourth was afraid of snakes. What a pussy!

Hello, My Old Friend Hello, my old friend! You silly old clown! How’s that mountain of life you’ve been tumbling down? How’s that little line segment with infinite points? Has the red rust of time been kind to your joints? How’s that worn path of safety? Has it led you astray? What’s that? How am I? Oh, I’m okay.