It's true. Who knows my faults better than me? Here's just a few to whet your appetite:

I once claimed to know how to access the 4th dimension, using Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity (E=mc˛) as a mathematical road map... when I was 12.
I have problems with "lazy eye" where my left eye drifts and makes me look like a skinny Columbo when I get really tired.
I'm a shitty hack writer and I know it, but I never let on that I do and gleefully accept praise from the people who lie to me about it.
I obsess over my past loves and scare people often with my angst.
I have absolutely zero self esteem.
I'm a horrible graphic designer and fool myself into thinking that starting a business will help cover that up.
I have utterly no talent for handling or managing money- "being broke" is a way of life for me- when it doesn't have to be.
I put all my eggs into one basket.
I have a severely small wardrobe and don't impress anyone with what I wear or how I look.
I am a talentless hack and I live in agonizing fear that someone might notice.
I have a small dick.
I'm a lousy lover.
I say the worst possible things at the worst possible times.
I have no sense of humor.
I stutter when I'm angry or sad.
I'm an emotionless blight upon humanity.

Oh, I could go on and on, but I'm sure you've figured out the rest by now. If you haven't, don't worry; you will. Just give it time and patience- pretty soon you'll know all my little secrets, which are really not worth mentioning because they're meaningless. At any rate, if you're going to insult me, do it right... hit me with something I don't know about myself- something I can't possibly know, like pointing out a collection of moles on my back that're growing thick hairs (there aren't any).

But don't think for a moment that you've "got my number", that you can peg me; you can't, at least not right away. And, besides, no one's interested anyway. Believe me... I should know.