HEY there! You know me. You’ve encountered me online! I’m that guy who gets attention by posting an unflattering photo of a famous woman and calling her ‘mid’.

Or ugly, or fat, or having the body of a mom. Or sometimes I compare her to attractive women of the past in an argument against modern feminism and wokeness. It’s all good.

The women? Well, that varies. Sometimes it’s Sydney Sweeney sitting in such a way that her belly’s creased so I can say she’s a fat bitch. Sometimes it’s a paparazzi shot of Billie Eilish leaving a shop. A cleverly-angled shot of Anne Hathaway looking old is my gold.

Whoever it is, they’re a woman who society has decided is gorgeous. And I, alone at home, dare to disagree. Like the child who saw the emperor was unclothed, I speak out against the prevailing opinion like a truth-telling hero.

You demand examples? Well, Selena Gomez looks like she’s birthed five children. Scarlett Johansson? Never hot. Mikey Madison? Wouldn’t even make relief cheerleader in a failing Delaware high school.

Impressive stuff, and the number of views, likes and comments I get on social media proves it. Because you get paid for that now, I’m making a good living. Miley Cyrus? The face of meth-addicted trailer trash! Your angry response just earned me £3,500.

What do I look like? Well, I hardly think that’s relevant, do you? I have no friends or intimates, it’s true. No personal relationships to speak of. Daylight is a stranger to me. But that doesn’t matter because I get such gratification from my work.

Margot Robbie? Mid.