In most cases, it's not alright to consistently make fun of an overweight ten-year-old with autism. But with every example comes a counterexample, and Keith Latteri has to be one of the fattest, stupidest fucking counterexamples on the face of the planet.
#iamthewalrus stumbled upon young Keith here on JewTube, after Keith released two videos: one where he decided to call out JPizzle1122 with threats of giving out his phone number unless people "PM'd and subscribed to" him. And another, where Keith featured Jon Paula as the "fag of the week," charismatically opened with the tagline "An #iamthewalrus productions," and played off by The Beatles' "I Am The Walrus."
These brief, uncomfortably zoomed-in videos brought tears to the eyes of walruses everywhere. Obviously Keith, also known as firealarm502 and sexytacos1, was a huge fan of #iamthewalrus, so a few of us invited Keith in for an intellectually stimulating conversation on Skype. This conversation turned out to be something none of us will ever forget.
As it seemed, Keith had quite a mouth on him, for a ten-year-old. His ends of the conversations consisted almost entirely of random curse words strung together in "sentences," if they should so be called. And it became increasingly apparent that Keith had bipolar disorder, as he'd go from wanting to join #iamthewalrus one day and cursing us out the next.
These discussions went on for an entire lulz-filled week. And in that week, #iamthewalrus learned a lot about this little lulzcalf. Apparently in 2008, his dad, Keith Sr, died because he was too stupid to put on a fucking motorcycle helmet. No srsly. Also, after having a brief conversation with Mrs. Latteri, we discovered what a horrible parent the alcoholic bitch was, smoking meth, reporting #iamthewalrus to da FBI and not giving a shit about her kids' actions instead of properly raising a family.
So in the end, #iamthewalrus can't blame Keith for his stupidity and overall inability to ever accomplish anything in life, after being sent to a bereavement camp to deal with his father's death and subsequently being raised by his alcoholic, drug-addicted mother. Regardless, we plan to milk out every last drop of lulz (and tears) from young Keith, until he finally does the world a huge, huge favor and manages to find a thick rope and one sturdy-ass chair.
(Who wants to join the Russian Business District?)
