How Goldblum Are You?

You can pick up The Glasses. You can wear them and gesture with your hands, but you will never be Goldblum. Please try harder to Goldblum.

In the beginning there was not one Goldblum, but two. One dark and one light. You draw from the Dark Side of Goldblum. You wield your angular features like a weapon that can strike down even the most formidable foe...like this sweaty man in a gorilla costume for example.

You are Goldbluming as hard as you can, but there are moments when you can almost reach Goldblumism, but you don't quite make it. You tell yourself that it's okay. You don't have to be Goldblum; living in a world that dares to contain Goldblum is enough. In the middle of the night, you wake in a cold sweat that dampens the knowledge that your consolations are, at best, massive rationalizations.

Somehow, your pre-born self managed to reach into the heavens and grab a bit of the dark, lustrous Goldblum Stuff that exists in the sparkliest bits of shooting stars and merge it with your DNA. People have always been simultaneously drawn to you and repelled by you. You have many first dates, but most of them escape using the bathroom window. It isn't you. It's the Goldblum in you. Not everyone can handle it.

You have nearly reached the perfect state of being known as Goldblum. Your hair is impossibly wavy. Your fingers are inhumanly long. Your eyesight is spotty. When people ask, and they do, what is it about you? What makes you so special? You just look at them, and then at a random spot above their head for no reason, and laugh. Oh! How you laugh.