Some of you know me as Bob the Bonga. Others know me as the kind of guy your parents whisper about at family BBQs. Me? I like to think of myself as a rejected side character from Breaking Bad — unstable, under qualified, and probably about to explode at the worst possible moment.

Don’t be surprised if I say something that sounds offensive or wrong; my filter broke years ago and the warranty was void. Hanging out with me is like downloading a sketchy file off LimeWire in 2005: you might get music, you might get a virus, or you might just regret your entire life.

And fair warning — I make noises sometimes. Not the sexy kind, not the normal kind, but the kind that makes people wonder if I’m having a spiritual awakening or a stroke. Stick around long enough and you’ll realise I’m basically human malware I don’t crash your computer, but I’ll ruin your day.