Miles Teller and the Empirical ‘Esquire’ Proof He’s a Bag of Dicks

Miles Teller, what a bag of dicks. He recently had a little sitdown with Esquire that has caused me to look up how to find him, just so I can punch him in the balls, which have to be insanely small for him to act the way he does. Even the girl interviewing him starts the article with the statement:

You’re sitting across from Miles Teller at the Luminary restaurant in Atlanta and trying to figure out if he’s a dick.

There is no best place to begin. This douche turd spends the entire interview dropping the most conceited commentary and smug behavior. When interviewer Anna Peele made conversation about the shape of his champagne coupe legendarily resembling Marie Antoinette’s left breast, Teller takes the opportunity to explain to both Peele and their waitress that the highball glass is modeled after his cock. If I had been interviewing him, this is where I would have just got up and walked out, perhaps after just scooting that highball glass off the table like an obstinate cat.

Peele defines Teller in a way that really speaks to me after rage reading everything Miles says in his Esquire article:

You wonder how much he really doesn’t give a s**t. Because it kind of seems like no one gives more of a s**t about what he does.

Beginning to end, Teller just spews garbage about how great he thinks he is from his XXXII tattoo on his arm that represents the 32 ounce beers he and his friends were absolutely forced to buy illegally as teenagers since Florida horribly doesn’t sell forties to making Peele cut his meat for him and then the grown ass man additionally insist it be smaller. It must be hard to maintain such a level of pompousness.

The freaking guy sent Kobe Bryant a Twitter Message:

Kobe, watched your Showtime documentary. Really related to what you’re talking about and striving for greatness and how it can oftentimes be an isolated journey, and how relationships can be a weakness in a way, if you’re really kind of going after it.

I’m going to just tell myself Kobe opened this up and was like, “Who the f**k is Miles Teller?” and never responded.

Even Peele tries to justify his behavior by arguing that so far, the work Teller has done has been good saying “So yeah, he is kind of a dick. But the thing is you agree with him.” I mean, …no. No, you don’t. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you have to make a bratty butt about it; I’m a fantastic pogo sticker, but I’m not making a random ass interviewer cut up my dinner.

Oh my god then he goes on about his looks:

You ask him about his hair. He’s brought up how nice it is in more than one interview. It’s a little defensive, like maybe he’s making up for not being the best-looking, or sometimes even the third-best-looking, guy in any given movie he’s in. “I was thinking about that today, how I probably think I’m better-looking than the public thinks I am,” he says with a laugh, like it’s funny that he’s willed himself into a higher tier of male beauty through limitless confidence. “I was in one of these forums about a film I did, and it’s like, ‘This dude is so ugly! How does he get fucking parts?’ ‘Well, he’s not, like, traditionally handsome, but . . .’ And that’s kind of what it is. Maybe it’s because I came from a small town, but I always did well for myself.”

Ugh. “Like it’s funny that he’s willed himself into a higher tier of male beauty through limitless confidence.” Dude, there are a few things making you attractive: fame, good clothes you can afford that are picked out for you, a team of people from pre- to post production that position your ass to the best side for your photo shoots and movies, and the fact most girls confuse assholery with confidence. No one cares if you did well for yourself in your small town! Also, let’s note the fact you’re looking at online forums about your attractiveness and are completely unphased by the embarrassment you should feel telling that to someone who’s going to publish that fact to an internationally read magazine! Why are you even worried about it? Your girlfriend is a 22-year-old model and swimsuit designer who had your initials tattooed on her ass.

Then his scars come up and this dude decides to delve into the whole drama that he doesn’t want to get into.

“My junior-year roommate from NYU was the guy driving my car when we got in the accident. And it was an accident. I never blamed him. I got a lot of laser surgery on my face, like what they use for getting rid of tattoos. Like, very painful. But I never wanted him to feel bad, so I never made anything out of it, ever.”

It seems like you are making something out of it, like, this is the definition of making something out of it. He continues,

“But I mean, if I was in his position, I’d be like, ‘Hey, man, do you need a Gatorade or anything? I’m just running out. You need any meds?’ I didn’t hold that against him. No big deal.

This is like when your mom loudly whines, “No one helped me with dinner/carrying groceries in/cleaning the house,” and you respond to her, “Mom, I would have, you didn’t ask! All you have to do is ask,” and she retorts dramatically with a sigh, “You should just know to help me!” Whine, whine, whine! You should just buy me a Gatorade!

But I was racking up all these medical bills, so we had to sue his insurance because he was driving. It’s not like we’re suing him; we’re suing his insurance. He comes to me. He’s like, ‘Miles, I don’t know if we can be friends when my parents’ insurance premiums are going to go up.’ I just sat with it for, like, twenty-four hours, and after that I was like, ‘Man, f**k you. Like, I’ve never made you feel bad for this. For you to make me feel guilty and make me feel like you’re the victim here, that’s really fucked up.

Wow, Miles, you goddamn saint.

They are interrupted briefly during this “not making something of it” by the waitress that clears with him he is Miles Teller before asking to take a picture with him. Later, Peele uses this as a defense arguing, of course this guy is a dick, people interrupt him with selfie requests during personal stories! Which is hopefully making everyone, and not just me, think, um that honestly seems like he’s pretend-hating being interrupted. Lord knows that narcissist could die forgetting to eat because he was looking at a portrait of himself. I mean, at one point, he pulls out his iPhone to show Peele a picture of his back muscles to, as Peele puts it, “prove how strong he is.” (P.S. Let’s remember the actor then went on to not use his own effing muscles to cut up his own meat.)

With all of this, the thing that gets me the flippity freaking most is his unwarranted bragging about milk tea and its associated pot smoking.

“I used to get this milk tea in college at the Asian market M2M when I was high,” he says, as if you’re supposed to know what milk tea is. “It was five bucks. Me and my buddies prided ourselves. We were like, ‘Nobody smokes this much pot. I guarantee you can ask anyone in this dorm, man . . . we smoke a lot.’ I didn’t do a single play when I was in college, because all I wanted to do was smoke pot. I did zero extracurricular activities so I could get high. I stopped when I started doing movies and went to L. A. because I was like, I can’t get a phone call and not answer it.”

You like Asian things, Miles? COOL. SO DOES THE HUGE ASS POPULATION OF ASIA. You are not a special snowflake. And like, Dude, are you 17? Bragging about smoking pot just doesn’t make you cool. You were constantly stoned in college, you are not a badass. Additionally, no one is impressed you didn’t do any acting until you just started doing movies. Everyone is just pissed the eff off that your life isn’t a novel of struggle like their own.

The only causation for this behavior, little penis syndrome. Like that guy has to have just the smallest penis ever. Sorry about your medical condition, Miles Teller.