Better Me will never know the joy of having the Cheetos bag all to myself, and a quiet night’s rest with nobody there, and having the world’s brightest high quality flashlight in my pocket. Worser Me never has to suffer and endure all that jetlag of constant travelling with supermodel girlfriend, and keeping track of all those pocketfuls of passports, and venereal prescriptions, and custody support hearings. Yeah, I know exactly what Better Me paid to time travel with a ghost. He can go suck a 100 year old egg.