Dear David Blaine: stop, please stop.

Am I the only one who, when unfortunately reminded of David Blaine's continued presence on this sphere of existence, is reminded of that kid you went to school with who was constant doing dumb shit just to get attention? You know, the kid, who without prompting, would offer to eat something disgusting or stick his finger in an electrical socket if you would only dare him to do it. Or even just watch him, so long as he had an audience, because apparently mommy and daddy didn't love him enough.

So today, little spazzy Davey is all grown up, and is eating worms in the biggest schoolyard of them all, New York City. (There are benefits to living in the Second City!) Now we all have to be punished by Blaine's antics thanks to the ratings-crazed media that will cover any sort of spectacle regardless of what kind of or how many assholes are involved. I just wonder if he knows that most of those people who do stop by to watch him are there in the hopes that he'll finally off himself, so they can tell all there friends at work the next day that they were there when he finally did himself in. If he does realize it, do you think he cares?

Hey David! I really don't care what your next stunt will be, or what record you're going to try to break, just do it somewhere out of site, okay? Like a nuclear holocost bunker, or the bottom of the Hudson River or something...