I don't think it's that hard to come up with a hypothesis for Kyoto's evolution.

Imagine him standing next to the made-up blond with the suitcase pimp in the background. There's no audio, we can only guess what they're talking about. Kyoto smiles and thrusts a small, hand-sewn album toward her. The blond, not even looking up, scratches at it with a pen, takes her vodka and ghb in an Evian bottle, rolls her eyes and walks away. It happened about five seconds after this picture was snapped:



Now the camera pulls back and we see Kyoto, standing in the center of a convention hall in Vegas, clutching his "Precious Moments" scrapbook, having weathered the rejection of "at least 10" porn whores. A single tear rolls down his cheek. He cashed in his 401k just to be here--don't they understand that? He hitched rides with obese truckers in John Deere hats and a metal trunk full of soiled pantyhose in the cab. And for what? He has so much love to give, why can't anyone but his mom and perverts with CB radios see that?

Now contrast that with Kyoto saying he wants to fist Jenna with an iron glove. One gets a response, the other (peppered with " ") gets nothing but angry, tearful masturbation sessions back at some off-strip Vegas hotel.

Simple, really. All he ever wanted was love but, like most defective human beings, he realizes that attention of any sort from the object of his desire is better than rejection.

I submit that he's even worse than AC Cream or even ADT Watch Guy. They've felt our slings and arrows. Maybe at some moment when they're pasting scenes together for their own compilation tapes they even acknowledge them to be true. But they don't adopt a pathologically demented pose because they're starved for attention. They're pure in their mental infirmities and general creepiness.