Scrotum-in-chief, in action

You know, it's not easy. People wonder why I'm so fucking crabby but jesus fucking christ, look at what I have to put up with. Now he's given up the bicycle and started training for the olympics. He's out of his fucking mind, but we knew that. I keep trying to get him to focus on invading Iran, but I can't get him off the fucking parallel bars. We are in serious serious shit here, but every time I try to talk to him, he just asks me to spot him. Isn't that what the fucking secret service is for?