It's taken years to get this stupid

I'm a pretty clever guy. Seriously, I am. As a magician I get paid go to parties, I am a professional socialiser. I fool, trick and hoodwink the supposed intellectuals of our society; one step ahead of the game I am surrounded and adored by fans of baffle-and-bewilderment. I solve outrageous problems of logic in seconds, improvise solutions on the spot, and pick up terrifying new skills like a monkey to bananas. But underlying all of this vastly undeniable intelligence is a base level of stupidity so profound and total as to render one of accomplished speech suprisingly speechless; an ignorance so distilled and refined it induces a hushed awe in those unlucky enough to bear witness to it. I lose my keys and glasses like clockwork, I fail to comprehend the many and varied programmic cycles of a washing machine, I miss so many appointments I could fill an alternative diary, I say the most stupid irresponsible and reckless comments so as to make George W. look like Groucho M. Generally speaking, I am a sandwich with no filling, supremely inspired or fantastically misled.