Behind the sarcasm and sharp suits is a man who knows what it’s like to be ignored.
To millions, Greg Gutfeld is the face of fast wit, savage monologues, and no-nonsense commentary on The Five and Gutfeld!. But in the cluttered art studio of a 17-year-old girl in Newark, New Jersey, he’s known simply as “Mr. G.” — the stranger who changed everything.
It Started With a Sketch
Three months ago, 17-year-old Amira Delgado posted a charcoal sketch of Greg Gutfeld on X (formerly Twitter). It was hauntingly good — capturing his trademark smirk with raw emotion.
The post barely made waves. A few likes. One retweet.
Until one account quietly slid into her DMs. The handle?
@realGregGutfeld
The message?
“This is better than I deserve. You made me look almost charming. Let’s talk.”
“I Thought It Was Fake”
Amira almost ignored it. “I thought it was a bot or one of those parody accounts,” she told us, still in disbelief. “I mean… why would Greg Gutfeld message me?”
But it was real.
What followed was a series of quiet exchanges: Greg asking about her art, her story, her dreams. Turns out, Amira had been rejected from every design school she applied to. Her single mom was working two jobs. Art supplies were a luxury. Confidence? Almost gone.
Then Greg asked for her PayPal.
“I thought he was going to buy a sketch or something,” Amira said. “Instead, I got an email from a local art supply store — $1,000 credit. Prepaid. No note. Just… there.”
Then Came the Gallery Invite
But he wasn’t done.
A month later, Amira received an invitation: an upcoming charity gala hosted by Fox News, featuring works from rising young artists. Her name was on the list. Her sketches — framed, hung, spotlighted.
Guess who made the call?
“He told the coordinator she was ‘raw, weird, and talented — exactly what art is supposed to be,’” said someone close to the event team. “Then he paid the framing fees himself.”
Amira sold three pieces that night. Two went to guests. One? Quietly purchased under a pseudonym.
You guessed it.
Why He Did It
When asked about the story, Greg — true to form — brushed it off.
“I like weird kids,” he said on a recent live stream. “Especially the ones no one claps for.”
No credit. No shoutouts. No post about how generous he is. Just a kid, her pencil, and a shot she never expected to get.
“He Gave Me Back My Voice”
Amira now has enough saved up to reapply to art school next fall. “Every time I feel like giving up, I remember that someone like him saw something in me,” she said. “He didn’t have to help. He just… did.”
And on her desk, next to a sketchpad, sits one small sticky note from Greg’s first DM.
“Keep being weird. The world needs it.”