See that guy about to get eaten by that shark?
Yeah, that’s me.
Well, no. That’s actually Quinn.
This is me.
Pretty cool right? Yeah…
22, unsure of what to do in pictures, and a fan of button down shirts. Not Quinn in the slightest. Still, I think the gentleman and I had a lot in common, particularly in the moments before Bruce ate the shit out of him.
You see, I first saw Jaws when I was too young to really figure out that movies end when the credits roll. The night my dad sat me down to watch Jaws was the night I began to imagine that my bed was a rickety boat. It was the night that the darkness surrounding my bed was actually the pelagic. It was the night I became absolutely convinced that at the foot of my bed awaited a giant God Damn shark.
A giant God Damn shark that couldn’t wait until the night I slipped up and let my toes get close enough to the waters edge.
Stay with me folks.
Night after night, I’d lose sleep trying to maintain a strict fetal position. I figured sharks can’t get you in the fetal position. I’d spend my days online reading about sharks. Fascination on the outside, fear and an urge to know my enemy on the inside. Logic man.
I maintained this habit for years until one day, I let myself stretch out. To my shock, I survived the night unscathed and well rested. To my awe, this fear, this physically impossible horror I let myself believe, melted away.
It was around this time that I realized a few things:
- I’m somewhat creative
- Fears can be broken
- As long as you’re not sliding down the deck of a capsized boat into the mouth of a shark, things aren’t that bad.
My name is Matt Guralsky. I graduated from Florida State with a degree in psychology and I want make funny videos for a living.