But Wait, There's More.

A very good description Omphuss.  I agree whole heartedly, but I'll take it a step further (quick aside:  I actually learned just this weekend the difference between further and farther and am pleased to use the proper word in this post).  Our dear friend MM is the real life version of what would happen if Ruprick the Monkey Boy and Mrs. Lift were to ever mate and have offspring (quick aside #2:  I use the term offspring for to call him a child or boy asserts he is more of a human than reality will allow him to prove).  MM could be described as a failed attempt at alliteration where the word is routinely repeated, instead of the consonant, until finally the writer says "Fuck It", reaches for his stack of low grade porn, and ultimately ends up masturbating to his favorite Mii playing tennis (quick aside #3:  The Mii is an androgynous character named Alex who serves MM's male and female sexual fantasies).  MM is the popcorn that does not pop and nearly breaks your teeth as you stumble upon it in the handful of kernals that did reach their potential.  He is the pulp in what otherwise would be fantastic orange juice. MM is the tannin in wine that leaves you with a massive headache after what you originally thought had been an enjoyable time.  He is the missing sock, the broken shoelace, the AT&T cell phone coverage, the hair in  your soup, the pebble in your shoe, the virus on your computer, and the facial hair that your razor routinely avoids every morning (quick aside #4:  I have such a spot of hair and it pisses me off to no end when I look in the mirror at work and realize I've missed that spot yet again).  We all have a cross to bear and ours is named Michael's Mom.