Did Everyone Know Elon’s Musk Dad Is A Psycho?

Every good supervillain needs a realistic backstory to explain their behavior. Ever since the Christopher Nolan Batman triology anyway. Whether you love Elon Musk or hate him, being the richest man in the world automatically qualifies him as a supervillain. Sorry, dems da rules. Elon’s estragned father Errol, however, makes Elon look like a boy scout. 

Errol was reportedly a multimillionaire himself before turning thirty years old. According to Elon, Errol was the youngest person to ever have a professional engineer’s qualification in South Africa. He also was a pilot, a sailor, a politician against the apartheid, and a property developer. He was also rumored to own an emerald mine but that has since been refuted by Elon himself. But IQ and money wasn’t the only thing Errol shared with his son. They also have the same knack for impregnating women, having seven children of his own. 

In a Rolling Stone interview, a teary eyed Elon told the interviewer, “He was such a terrible human being. You have no idea. My dad will have a carefully thought-out plan of evil. He will plan evil… Almost every crime you can think of, he has done. Almost every evil thing you could possibly think of, he has done.” So what drove the father and son apart? 

Was it that Errol killed three people in their house? Oh yeah, shot the shit out of them. Very dead. It’s alleged that the incident happened in the presence of the Musk children too. But nope, that wasn’t it. Elon claimed that the shooting was done in self defense against armed men who broke into their home. 

It’s never been said explicitly what happened between Elon and Errol for them to no longer be in each other’s lives. But I have a good guess. Errol knocked up his step-daughter, twice. 

After divorcing Elon’s mother Maye Haldeman, Errol married Heide Bezuidenhout. Heide had two children of her own and added two more with Errol. Her daughter Jana, Errol’s stepdaughter, just had her second child by Musk patriarch. Jana was only four years old when her mother married Errol. Errol has justified his actions stating that Jana didn’t grow up in his household. But I think we can all agree that he’s a creepy pervert. Dirty old man. 

Although it’s weird for everyone in the Musk family, imagine how Asha and Alexandra Musk feel. Their half-sister Jana, has two children with their father. Which means their nephews are also their half-brothers. Heebie jeebies. 

Errol Musk told the NY Post in an email, “I’ve been accused of being a Gay, a Misogynist, a Paedophile, a Traitor, a Rat, a Shit (quite often), a Bastard (by many women who’s attentions I did not return) and much more. My own (wonderful) mother told me I am ‘ruthless’ and should learn to be more ‘humane’.” 

Holy shit dude, there’s some things you should keep to yourself. Almost feels like you’re bragging about being called some of those things. I have a funny feeling shagging his stepdaughter and poppin three dudes in his house is just the tip of the iceberg. Feel like the conspiracy crowd would have a field day with ol’ Errol. 

Turns out Elon’s greatest accomplishment is actually not turning out to be a lunatic like his father. If trolling on Twitter and a libido like Austin Powers is the worst of it, I’d say he turned out alright. You know being the richest man in the world and all. But I understand now why he’s been trying to fuck off to Mars for the better half of the decade. 

The Best And Worst Raisins

What are raisins? A terrible snack that shows up unexpectedly that nobody wants. Which is ironic, since they’re made from grapes that nobody wants. So their entire existence is filled with neglect and abandonment. Raisins are dried up grapes that have a consistency that’s more slimy than juicy to the touch. The Sun Maid packaging looks like it’s from 1978 because that’s probably the last time somebody opened one of those little boxes. Even though they’re all the worst, there has to be a worst of the worst and best of the worst. So let’s get to it. 

The Worst: 

3. Raisins In Potato Salad

The quickest and most efficient way to get your invite permanently revoked from any BBQ. You’re lucky they don’t throw you in jail. I’m a firm believer that anyone who does this is just trying to get rid of their raisin stock that nobody eats in their home. Pretty much any time I’m eating potato salad I’ve already tied one on. Theres nothing worse than that feeling of eating your mayo-y potatoes and then tasting something sweet thinking “Omg wtf was that.” It camouflages in the mayo so that you didn’t even realize it when you scooped. When you start inspecting it, it looks like a bunch of dead flies in your food. When you find out it’s raisins, you realize you’d rather it was flies.  

2. Raisins In Your Halloween Candy

It’s the end of the night, you’re sweaty, and still in half of your costume. You and your siblings have dumped out your candy bags on the carpet to start wheeling and dealing trades. Then you see that stupid pilgrim lady box smirking at you knowing that she doesn’t belong. What decade do you think it is Gertrude? Why are you giving these out to children? Give me that chalk candy, or Jujubes ready to rip my teeth out from the root, pennies even, if you must. Anything but your raisins. A child’s Halloween bag is not your trash can. 

1. Raisin Children

Maybe the only lifetime contract that humans sign. Even marriage isn’t as final as being a parent. Even if you don’t like it, I imagine you have to grin and bear it. Whether you’re enjoying yourself or not, humans are contractually bound to throw it in everyone’s face on Instagram and Facebook that they’re raising a child. “Georgie had his first solid food today!” No he didn’t, that’s mushy carrot. Nobody cares, I want my friends back. 

The Best: 

3. Raisin Hell With The Boys

What do you get when you have a generation babysat by a TV with Stone Cold Steve Austin on it. You get what you fuckin deserve. Whether it’s boozin all day on golf carts, taking a boat out without knowing how to fish, or striking out at the bars only to throw up in the backyard of an Airbnb, there’s nothing better than collectively throwing caution to the wind. Catch beers twenty yards out, shotgun, and turn those middle fingers front ward. 

2. Raisin Canes 

I don’t know why the south feels the need to gatekeep chicken joints but it’s bullshit. The simplicity of the menu, the unique taste of the sauce, and the charm of a workforce who knows you can’t complain when there’s only one option of the menu, the whole experience - unmatched. If youre eating at Raisin Cane’s you already know whatsup. The only downside is going with a cole slaw snob who argues with you when you sub it out for extra toast. I don’t like cole slaw, get over it.

1. Ruby Roman Raisins

The Ruby Roman of Japan is the most expensive grape in the world. About four times the size of a regular grape, they’re the juiciest in the world. Color, size, and sweetness can have them categorized into three separate grades of Superior, Super Superior, and Premium. There are years where none of the Ruby Romans are blessed with a Premium grade. Given the difficulty to harvest and unparalleled taste, the Ruby Roman is one of the most rare fruits in the world. In 2020 there were only 25k bunches sold. One of those bunches sold at auction for $12,000 making it about $400 per grape. This would be the only raisin worth eating.  

For the record this is no shade at all. I love what John Rich did with his raisin blog and I think he’s hilarious. When I saw it on the wheel I thought fuck that sounds difficult. I just wanted to prove to myself I could do it. 

The Social Contract of Dancing

If you really sit there and think about dancing, it’s a strange concept. How did we as a species even start dancing? My Irish kinfolk have been tip tapping their way across floors for centuries. When the Europeans made their way to the Americas, they found ancient civilizations with their own form of dance. Two tribes so to speak, neither knew of the other’s existence, nothing in common, except they all could boogie. Is it a human instinct? Even babies know to start dancing when their favorite songs come on. Regardless of how or why it started, dancing has taken on a life of its own. 

Whether you’re at a bar, wedding, or trying to prove you can climb down the generational ladder on Tik Tok, dancing is either extremely fun or extremely awkward. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I can cut a fuckin rug. I was at a wedding two weeks ago and people were looking to me to revive that dance floor. After nearly finding the bottom of a bottomless bar, I put on a show. My over the top antics freed others up to feel comfortable doing a two step shuffle and a couple of shoulder shrugs. As the liquor kept flowing, and the crowd on the dance floor grew, we all began putting arms around shoulders, screaming lyrics in each other’s faces, and collectively jumping to beats to try and touch the ceiling. But there’s a camaraderie to weddings. Everyone feels obligated to dance as to not upset the idiot newlyweds who just dropped 70k on their wedding. Weddings are a safe space, but what about dancing when you’re not in one. 

Dancing at a bar takes a specific recipe to pull off. You have to have gone with the right crowd, drank enough alcohol, and be able to convince yourself that if you do this, you’re going to get laid. Girls can really do no wrong on a dance floor. Even if they’re bad dancers, there’s an innocence to it. Guys on the other hand, it can get tragic. 

Take this weekend for example, when I found myself at Green Rock in Hoboken with ten of my buddies. A bar where the only place to stand is the dance floor. You can barely move through the sea of people, as the world sweats on you and shoves you in the back to get to the bathroom. The architect of this place should be in jail. 

My friends and I cornered one section and tried our best not to be awkward. But there’s no easy way to approach a group of female strangers to dance. Unless you’re Ricky Martin, you can’t walk straight up and start wiggling your hips. You’d look like a psychopath? You might actually scare them. One move is to dance by yourself or amongst your group and pray that a girl green lights you by rubbing up on you. But it’s a tough read. If it is an inviting rub up, you’re in the clear. But if she did it on accident because there’s literally no room and you turn around and latch on to this poor stranger, you’re gonna come across as a predator. 

The safest but weirdest way to start dancing with girls is to start singing at your guy friends. You think we enjoy pointing at one another and singing in each other’s faces? It’s an invitation. We’re looking into each other’s eyes thinking about how weird we look and hating one another for forcing ourselves to do this. What we’re trying to do is invite you into the circle without being touchy about it. We’re looking for another group of girls to come sing along with us. If we can get you to sing we can get you to dance. We’ll hype each other up as a collective group with lyrics. Once we sing a couple of songs together and start feeling comfortable, lines will start to form. Once the same girl starts singing at the same guy for long enough, he’ll feel comfortable enough to make a move. Next thing you know, we’re all bumpin and grindin to the newest Drake song. 

Of course that’s best case scenario. A lot of the time we’ll throw the singing bait out there without a single nibble. We’ll keep going until we hate ourselves enough to tuck our tails back to the bar and glue our eyes to a TV. You either put a bet in to get you through the night, or pretend you had action on whatever’s showing, even if it’s badminton. 

At the end of the day, no one wants to be that person being secretly videoed by strangers for going too hard on a dance floor. The key to dancing is to be comfortable in an otherwise uncomfortably vulnerable situation. Luckily there’s PEDs for that, beers and shots. The way I look at it, I’m always making a fool out of myself. At least with I’m dancing I’m having fun doing it.  

Which NFL Head Coach Slid Into This Tik Tokers DMs

Meet lizzydoingstuff, a now former lesbian, Tik Tok extraordinaire, and future trophy wife for a mystery NFL head coach. While lounging out on the beach, Lizzy posted this Tik Tok to her profile claiming that an NFL head coach slid into her DMs. Who could it be? 

An idiot, for starters. If you’re getting ready to risk it all you have to do a little homework. If you’re going to shoot your shot you have to at least give yourself a chance? You watch tape for hours you couldn’t scout a lesbian? You see how short her nails are in all her videos? Why do you think that is? Who fucked up? 

Brandon Staley +650 

I’m sorry Staley I know you’re married but Lizzy’s in San Diego. According to this NFL Connunications list the Chargers are the only team with a camp in San Diego. It could be another California coach, I suppose, but I’m a Rams fan. I’m not throwing rocks at my throne. Besides, after Staley left the Rams in 2021 it’s clear that he’s ready to leave a good thing if he’s promised to be surrounded by young upcoming talent. 

Kliff Kingsbury +150 

Fun fact, Kliff Kingsbury is the only NFL head coach who’s not married. I guess it’s a political thing like the how they prefer the president to be a family man/woman. But McVay’s first trophy wasn’t a wife but a Lombardi. Granted Kingsbury has a Instagram model girlfriend with 3M followers. Why would he go for a Tik Toker with a measly 13.4k? Then again….

Lane Kiffin -110

This is who it was. Poor girl has no idea that Lane is a college coach, not NFL. Got her wires crossed. Is it a coincidence that two of the unsigned Top 150 recruits left are about an hour and a half drive from San Diego? I don’t believe in coincidences, I believe in Joey Freshwater.  Lane’s been divorced since 2016 and if even half the stories about him are true, then I wouldn’t put it past him believing he could pull a lesbian that’s 2k miles away.

Ben Franklin Once Wrote A Blog On Why You Should Bang MILFs

American culture is graffiti’d with taking down milfs. Everything from Stiffler’s mom to Mormon quarterbacks for the Jets, from season 3 of Stranger Things to Benjamin Franklin writing a letter to a young man on why choosing milfs over women his own age was the way to go. Since the country is so gung ho on taking the Founding Fathers’ word as gospel, let’s focus on that last one. 

Why did Ben Franklin get his face on the hundred dollar bill anyway? He needed a bigger bill to pay all his hookers. Dude was riddled with STDs and had a platoon of illegitimate children. He had a lineup that could rival Derek Jeter himself. Franklin was rumored to sleep with milfs at a young age, women in their twenties in his twilight years, a mother and daughter, his best friend’s girl, and hundreds of French prozzies. Oh and his wife sometimes. The guy knows his way around around a bedroom. 

So when Ben Franklin writes eight reasons why you should consider older women, you listen. You might learn a thing or two. Here are Ben Franklin’s 8 Reasons Why (to bang milfs not like the Netflix show).

1. “Because they have more knowledge of the world,”

Starting off the rip as more knowledgeable had me thinking he was going a different route. But Franklin is actually speaking more of conversation in this matter. Milfs are better to shoot the shit with.

2. “Because when Women cease to be handsome, they study to be good.” 

Whew. Tricks of the trade as they get older. While it’s doesn’t explicitly state in the bedroom, Franklin says women learn 1000 services as they age to keep their influence over men, so that’s got to be one of them. But bonus points, he says they’re a lot nicer when you’re sick. “…hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old woman who is not a good woman.” 

3. “Because there is no hazard of children, which irregularly produced may be attended with much inconvenience.” 

Ben Franklin shootin’ down range! Apparently he sees his weak pull out game as quite the inconvenience. I know he was rich and all, but Ben Franklin would 100% have a child support warrant if he was born in modern times. 

4. “Because through more experience, they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an intrigue to prevent suspicion.” 

Loose lips sink ships. Milfs make for better sneaky links. They’re less likely to tell their friends, put you on blast on Instagram, etc. Benny says older women are “safer for your reputation”. He also says if you do get caught, the public perception may be that the milf is kindly taking care of you and preventing you from ruining your health on prostitutes. 

Ben Franklin’s syphilis: 

5. “And as in the dark, all cats are grey,” 

That means exactly what you think it means. Ben Franklin said, “hey, pussy’s pussy.” He also gets into this crazy breakdown of how gravity affects the nether regions last. That first the face will wrinkle, then the neck, then tits and arms, “the lower parts continuing to the last as plump as ever.” Franklin claims that the floor for sex with milfs is at the very least equal to their younger counterparts, but “frequently superior.” 

6. “Because the sin is less. The debauching a virgin may be her ruin, and make her for life unhappy.” 

Clearly this was meant for when wearing white on your wedding day was a priority. But it’s funny to think that Ben Franklin thinks he’s straight up ruined people with his dick. Can’t ruin something that’s already been ruined by someone else first. 

7. “Because compunction is less.” 

Basically what he’s saying is there’s none of that post nut clarity. Less guilt. It’s clear that Ben Franklin thought that in the end you can only make a woman your own age miserable and filled with resentment. But with milfs, it’s good vibes only. 

8. “And lastly they are so greatful!” 

Hey it takes two to tango. Men aren’t the only ones enjoying themselves when tackling a cougar. It’s the trade off. The young gentleman gets what he’s looking for, and the milf gets someone who can still see his dick, gets it up when the wind blows the right way, and doesn’t get winded after two minutes in the shower. 

So what does this all mean? It means that Zach Wilson banged his Mom’s best friend and he’s not gonna convince me otherwise. Even if he didn’t, he did now. But who has more to lose? Who has more reason to lie? The girl who lost her boyfriend to a cougar? Or the woman with potentially a family of her own? Bingo. I feel like it’s getting lost in the shuffle though that the Jets’ QB had his own girl stolen from him by his best friend. Everyone’s hyping him up but I still think Cuck Wilson and the Jets go 6-11. 

Poor Eddie Lacy Is Still Being Trolled For His Weight On Twitter

Will you ever leave my man alone. Eddie Lacy hasn’t stepped on a football field in five years and he’s still taking ricochets on Twitter about his eating habits. At this point his diet is between him and his cardiologist. Look at this dickhead. 

For fucks sake. No disrespect to the young man in the photo but god damn. Eddie got bigger, but I’m not sure he was ever big. He just had a bad publicist. That picture of him that went viral when he looked like that debunked Bigfoot photo wasn’t great. But it was a TERRIBLE angle. Any bigger fella knows never get caught lacking on a turnaround shot. That side profile makes everything worse. Scrunches everything.

Alright it’s worse than I remember but still. Now that he’s not being paid the gloves are off and Eddie was able to call out @RichAlfanoPGA. “ur shaped more like who that is then i am”. First of all, almost certainly not in the PGA. Secondly, glass houses pal. 

Good hit Eddie, good hit. You tell moobie boy! The peanut gallery started chirping in and resurfaced a tweet of Lacy’s stating, “I just remembered that I’m sitting in class wit a whole grilled snack wrap in my pocket lol”. Ok and? Read it again, GRILLED snack wrap. That’s healthy, find a new slant. Besides, whomst among us can cast the first stone for a little pocket wrap? Thankfully Eddie didn’t take this lying down. 

Yeszir! Scoreboard biotch. Yeah he had Mickey D’s in his pocket but he also had two rings on his fingers. You must’ve forgot. Besides his three college championships, Eddie Lacy also had a Pro bowl appearance, 24 touchdowns, and 2,317 rushing yards in his first two seasons in the NFL. Show some respect. 

It’s my personal theory that the Packers were paying Aaron Rodgers too much money and that Eddie was just the first back to fall victim to their new model. They run guys into the ground on their rookie contracts so that when it’s time to pay them there’s too much tread on the tires. Eddie Lacy/Jamal Williams, Jamal Williams/Aaron Jones, Aaron Jones/AJ Dillon. Eddie was so good in the beginning that the Packers must’ve leaked pictures of him looking fat so they didn’t have to pay him. Still, he doesn’t do himself any favors. 

Eddie looks great right now. Fighting shape even. But you just can’t be wearing a ramen shirt and ramen pants when people blame Chinese food for your demise. China food took everything from you, but you just can’t quit it. Damn it I’ve never related to anything more in my life. 

Japan Creates Law For One Year Prison Stint For Being Mean Online

Look I’m going to be honest, I started writing this before I knew it was in response to a suicide. I already had it written in my head just from seeing this headline. I mean RIP, but I’m different. I know we as Americans have pretty much agreed to stop roasting the Japanese, but they’re kind of asking for it now, no?

Where’s the line? Because making fun of people on the internet is like 70% of the point of it. Does something drastic have to stem from the cyber bullying for you to be cuffed? Or the second you start busting balls is the Japanese government going to start kicking your door in? 

Will there be some online Orwellian police? Think of all the things Japan would have to ban. Call of Duty, comment sections, Reddit, Twitter. Imagine the internet with no roastings? Ugh what’re you gonna do, just share information? 

I guess I can’t ever step foot in Japan. It was a toss up too between there and Iceland for my next trip. I eviscerate people on the internet, I’d have to do a life sentence. I mean, look at all these souls I’ve snatched on Twitter. 

Like the time Gus Malzahn got fired from Auburn

Or when people made the mistake of buying their dream homes

Or when Skip Bayless started doing Tik Tok dances 

Or when I destroyed a random Steelers fan so bad he deleted his Tweet

James Holzhauer’s Jeopardy run

Or Vince Carter’s retirement 

See what I mean? Bodied. Can’t do that in Japan and it’s a damn shame. Apparently there’s no honor in it? Well my collective 39 likes say otherwise. 

Big Brother Preseason Power Rankings Based Only Off Profiles

Three years ago, three of my friends and I decided to start a Big Brother draft before each season starts. With no gameplay to go off of, we draft purely on looks and internet profiles. It’s $100 a head and whoever drafts the winner takes the pot. Last year I correctly predicted the winner before a single episode dropped so I’m basically a genius. Or Sherlock Holmes. At the very least psychic. I have my draft tonight so here are my power rankings. 

16. Daniel Durston, 35, Vegas Performer
First one out is normally someone without a great first impression or someone who stirs the pot too quickly. Daniel has the makings for both. He’s a self-acclaimed loud and obnoxious player who says he does not want to work with loud and obnoxious players. See the issue? He’s 6’3” so the HOH can justify it by claiming he was going to be a physical threat without much blood on their hands. Since he says he’s a theater guy, I reserve the right to rescind this ranking if Daniel is gay because they rock at reality competitions. Nobody wants to come across as the bigot who voted someone out when the only thing they knew about them was their sexual preference. 
15. Terrance Higgins, 47, Bus Operator
Honestly, the fedora would be enough for me to keep him around. As a 47 year old, Terrance is coming across more cocky than I think he should. He claims to be an “alpha male” who wants people to “stick to the plan” and not be comfortable. Looks alone makes me think he’s a chill dude but his profile is claiming otherwise. Terrance is literally a bus driver and the second he’s not the one not behind the wheel of the decisions I think he’ll create too much tension. 
14. Indy Santos, 31, Flight Attendant 
Before I read a single word of her profile I said to myself, “that’s a mean girl.” Her answers did not disappoint. She basically told the interviewer one their questions was a waste of time, is already calling people lazy before meeting them, and was the only one to go the God route. When asked what other contestants might not like about her she said her personality. Her personality! Also hailing from Brazil, she reminds me a lot of Abi from season 25 of Survivor. High potential for this year’s villain and a top notch entertainer. 
13. Alyssa Snider, 24, Marketing Rep
Ya know for a marketing rep she can’t market herself for shit. Easily the most boring profile on the list. I know nothing about her besides she considers herself bubbly. If you can’t impress on the profile you’re not going to impress in the house. 
12. Taylor Hale, 27, Personal Stylist
Taylor said that the best advice she got was to let people assume that she’s dumb. Which sounds to me like she’s grooming us for how dumb she is so she can then claim it was all an act. Taylor says that strategy won’t be her strong suit so I don’t really know what her angle is. She was the only one to bring up the possibility of a showmance, so maybe it’s possible she’ll woo a comp beast into carrying her to the end. 
11. Jasmine Davis, 29, Entrepenaur 
This year’s southern belle of the group hails from Georgia. I believe she’s the third female contestant to describe herself as some variation of “ditzy” which is concerning. Hopefully she can surprise us with her enterpenaur background. I just don’t think she has enough confidence in herself to go far. Jasmine said she hopes to float with the jocks which is normally something people of the show use as an insult. 
10. Matt Turner, 23, Thrift Store Owner
That’s exactly the kind of eccentric look I want my thrift store owner to have. However I’m not sure that Matt is going to work well enough with others to go very far. It could just be his age showing in the questions, and maybe he’ll be more open-minded in the house, but he appears pretty standoffish. He’s the quirky guy, I get it. He doesn’t want to work with the jocks. But when you use the line “your network is your net worth” and state you don’t want to work with the people you believe will hold all the power from the comps, then you’re too hypocritical to adapt. 
9. Paloma Aguilar, 22, Interior DesignerAnother one who didn’t give much info other than that she’s been coached by her psychologist father. Which if that means her lack of intel is gameplay then, kudos. Paloma is the baby of the house which normally translates into a little sister type role. I just don’t know if that’s going to be enough. 
8. Kyle Capener, 29, Unemployed 
At first glance I thought I was going to have Kyle much higher on the list but his profile came off kind of douchey. It was the glasses that fooled me. Unemployed is definitely a red flag if it makes him lazy around the house. On the one hand Kyle said he doesn’t like conflict. In a complete 180, he also said he’ll butt heads with the Type-As, will play hard, thinks people might be upset with his jokes, and hopes to not get into too many fights. At 6’3” he’s got the frame for comps. For his sake he better hope to win early to gain favor before his personality comes out. I put him smack dab in the middle because I wouldn’t be shocked if he wins it all or is the first contestant voted out. 
7. Monte Taylor, 27, Personal Trainer
Monte feels like the guy who will fall victim to the first backstabbing of a power alliance. He’s definitely yoked enough to be a comp beast but I don’t see him being much more than that. When I think trainer I think meathead. He claims he has a mechanical engineering degree but what does that say that he’s not a mechanical engineer? 
6. Ameerah Jones, 31, Content Designer
There’s no other way to say it besides Ameerah has a kind face. I trust that face. But her profile was anything but. Ameerah says she plans on being straightforward whether what she’s saying is nice or mean. Her sugar and spice approach is perfect for Big Brother. The only thing that worries me is her affliction towards people who are “two-timers”. She wants to only work with people who are 100% loyal 100% of the time. Which by the nature of the game, just isn’t plausible. At the end of the day there’s only one winner and you can’t take it personal when people play the game. 
5. Joe “Pooch” Pucciarelli, 24, Assistant CFB 
I’m not going to lie when I first saw Pooch I thought he was going to round out the end of my list. I’ve dealt with too many people from Staten Island to think otherwise. But Joe seems very self aware and even pokes fun at his appearance. Being a college football assistant coach tells me two things. One, he can manage big personalities and two, he’ll probably be a weekly competitor for HOH. If it’s true that he’s a “lackadaisical” and “caring” guy, which has not been my experience, he’ll have a real shot at 500k. 
4. Brittany Hoopes, 32, Hypnotherapist If I was surprised by Pooch, I was blown away by Brittany. There’s something about bangs that make me nervous. Add that she’s a hypnotherapist and a kid’s toy tester, and you get one confused TKJ. But Brittany appears to be a true student of the game. She claims to have a notebook with over forty pages of strategy to try in the Big Brother house. That’s dedication. According to her answers she has a clear plan of hierarchy and likely the brains to pull it off. She’ll need at least one HOH to certify herself as a clear contender but I think she might just pull it off. 
Marvin Achi, 28, Chemical Engineer
Textbook triple threat. Built like a brick shithouse, intellect of a chemical engineer, and answers that made him seem so wholesome. A Momma’s boy with brains and biceps. The only thing that worries me is he might be a little too much like Kyland last year. It’s inevitable that you’re going to break hearts and dreams in Big Brother, and when the “nice guy” starts getting blood on his hands other contestants look at him like he’s unraveling. Hopefully that big smile will convince them otherwise. 
2. Nicole Layog, 41, Personal Chef
Last year Tiffany completely flipped my perception of women 40+ in this game. Nicole is already coming into this game with the advantage of being a personal chef. No one wants to vote out the only reason you’re eatin’ good. But being a good cook is literally her floor. Evaluating her physical appearance she looks like she can hold her own in comps. Samoan maybe? She describes herself as super positive, a fierce competitor, and someone who’s strongly against floaters. And goddamnit I believe her. She’ll feed you delicious meals to make you feel safe and it’ll be too late when you realize it’s been laced with poison the whole time. 
Michael Bruner, 28, Attorney 
Drumroll please. Michael checks every single box. Unsuspecting? Look at that cat shirt. Comp beast? 6’4” frame. Charming? Described himself as having gangly noodle arms. Competitor? Law school and claims he’s intense and focused when there’s something he can win. His job is literally jury management. Michael will know when to ramp it up and when to soothe it out. He’s nerdy yet physical, intelligent yet goofy, kind yet cutthroat. And all his answers were perfect. I don’t doubt that his eyes are on the prize yet he has a team player mentality. Michael says he wants to fight hard for those who will fight hard for him. Given that last year’s winner was also an attorney, I feel good about this number one pick. 
If you feel like you’re too cool for Big Brother (I did), check your ego at the door. It’s dramatic, engaging, has GUTS like competitions from our childhood, and will bring you right up to the football season. Sprinkle in a little gambling like we do for some skin in the game and you’ll be hooked in no time.  

Generic Phrases I Use That Make Me Die Inside

Due to the nature of my career I constantly find myself faking polite conversation. It’s not supposed to be a political job but it very much still is. I have to maintain a certain image. An image, mind you, that I absolutely hate. 

While putting on my fake self- whether it’s at my job, to aunts and uncles at BBQs who pretend like we’re close, or conversations in the grocery store that I tried to avoid- I use these stupid generic phrases that make me sound like a corny old Dad. I swear I’m one “I guess they’ll let anyone in here!” away from getting myself pregnant. Here are some of them. 

“Ehhh what’re ya gonna do.” I know it’s phrased like a question but it’s actually the complete opposite. If somebody answered this with what they were actually going to do I think I’d let out a high pitched scream. What it actually means is I’ve heard your complaint, I don’t care about it, I’m not going to console you and I hope saying this puts an end to it. 

“I’m gettin old, man.” I deploy this either when I’m exhausted or someone comments on my appearance. Like if I have to do manual labor or been drinking all day and I see someone looking at me it just escapes out of my mouth with a sigh. It doubles for when someone hasn’t seen me in a while and they comment on how different I look. A lot of times people will ask me about what my college days were like when they find out I went to a big football school. Then I have to talk about how much I miss it. If I say “I miss it,” about anything at all, it’s automatically followed by an “I’m gettin old, man.” 

“Well, look who it is!” I use this when someone recognizes me but I have no idea who they are. You know when someone’s eyes light up when they see you and you think to yourself, “Oh shit this persons going to talk to me,” this is what you use. These are the jackasses who flatten their hand out to their knee and say “I knew you when you were this big!” Similarly, if I’m trying to figure out their wife’s name I’ll say “Where’s the ol’ ball and chain?” Ughh. 

“Who would’ve thought, right?” This is for the sentimentals who tell me stories about myself that I’ve never heard before. Either from when I was a child or they know something they shouldn’t know about my early twenties. They always finish with a comment about my career or my growing up followed by a “Now look at ya!” 

“Here comes trouble!” God, I hate myself. I use this on people’s pre-teen children and middle aged men who drink too much. I don’t know how to speak to either one of them. For very different reasons, both groups don’t make a lick of sense to me when they speak. I’ve found that calling them “trouble” jacks them up enough that they smile and I can just keep on walking past them. 

My little brother and I are the same exact person. The only difference is I feel the responsibility to fake it and he doesn’t. Whenever he catches me and asks “Why do you do that?” it’s a punch right to the gut. Because I truly don’t know. And every time I do it, I feel a piece of my soul being ripped out. 

Martin Shkreli Has Once Again Given My Brain A Swirly

Move over Dos Equis, you silver fox, there’s a new world’s most interesting man in town. Shkreli is most known for making headlines for charging dying people a million dollars for twenty dollar medication. That and his love for the Wu Tang Clan. Never said he was a good guy, but no doubt intriguing. 

Since doing a little stint in prison, Marty has gone off the rails. Last I spoke of him I wrote a blog on his predictions for the future of 100+ years. Where he details everything from teleportation and the death of sports to when we’re gonna start banging robots. Then that interview came out of the Bloomberg journalist who fell in love with Martin after covering his trial. Spoiler alert: she quit her job, left her husband, and froze her eggs to wait for Shkreli to get out of the clink. I mean, what the fuck is going on with this guy? 

Which brings me to this Tik Tok that I saw today.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRdoSTsG/?k=1

So Martin Shkreli had adopted the nickname “maricon” in prison. After hearing it repeatedly from the Spanish speaking inmates he asked Lolo, his hired lookout, what it meant. Lolo told him it meant “brave warrior” and Martin took to telling people “I’m The biggest baddest maricon in this place!” If the video is to believed, he even got “EGM” tattooed on his chest for “El Grande Maricon”. 

For those of you who’ve never worked in a kitchen, maricon is Spanish for the derogatory “f word” for gay people. If Martin is a homosexual, good for him, I totally support him. Even though Pride Month literally just ended I’m still an ally. However, given that he’s in a relationship with a woman I don’t believe he is. Stolen valor much? So he’s threatening dangerous criminals by basically calling himself “The Big Homo” while thinking it means “The Big Brave Warrior” in Michael Scott-esque fashion which is undoubtedly hysterical. 

But then I started thinking how there’s just no way. Martin Shkreli spent his time in prison employing inmates, teaching crypto classes, and researching AI. Someone HAD to have told him that he’s not saying what he thinks he’s saying. All the guy does is research, you’re telling me he’s not fact-checking the only definition he was given for what he was about to tattoo on his chest? 

Which brought me to an unsettling revelation. Is Martin Shkreli a comedic genius? He didn’t even show a hint of letting on that he was in on the joke in that Tik Tok video. No smirk, not stutter, just stone face.  Did he make the whole thing up because he knew it was hilarious? Self-deprecating humor that makes him look like a gullible idiot while contrasting it as a tough guy act? Martin Shkreli can’t be hilarious, can he? 

I watched it again to make sure it wasn’t a deep fake. That’d be ironic if the joke was on me the whole time. Why has Martin Shkreli set up camp in my brain? I’m over-analyzing this. I need to rid myself of this Martin possibility since he’s someone the American people have agreed not to enjoy. But, and I’d never thought I’d say this, I can’t wait to see what Martin Shkreli comes up with next. 

Facebook Community Pages Are The Best Thing On The Internet

The best display of the pinnacle of the human experience and growing technology symbiosis can be found on your town’s community Facebook page. The smaller the town, the better the drama. Old scores are settled, new rivalries arise. A place where reasonable questions start arguments. Where you can trash the local HVAC guy and then immediately post your elderly neighbor’s obituary. Where the 21st century town crier is a coveted position. A magical place, where you’re always right. 

Old people are the fuel that keep this fire burning. I’m using the term “old” loosely here, but you know the type. Their number one complaints are normally dogs. Whether they’re barking, running, or shitting, they’re not having it. They love posting fatal motor vehicle accidents to update you on traffic routes. They share information that’s way too intimate. They’ll strongly disagree with positive reviews of a family owned restaurant because their food took two minutes too long once. Holier than thou doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. They often rant or rally their personal views to the masses and are shocked, hurt, and offensive when it’s not accepted as gospel. But they’re always correct. 

Worse than old people are the young people who argue with them. Again, using the term young loosely here. Mid twenties to mid thirties. Actual young people don’t waste their time on these pages, they probably don’t even know what Facebook is. This younger sub-strata of your community page are the aggressors. They defend their friends’ local businesses to a fault. They’re rude to the old peoples’ dumb questions. And if someone opposes them, they go way too far. They use terms like “keyboard warrior” and threaten to “meet up in real life”. A discussion as simple as shed removals could end with them saying things like “That’s why your son keeps getting arrested for heroin ”. But they’re always correct. 

But the absolute bowels of these Facebook groups are the founders themselves. The only requirement for being a moderator or founder of a community page is you have to be the worst person in the world. There’s an interesting book by Christopher Browning called “Ordinary Men” where he explores how regular people could possibly become Nazis during WWII. How come they were able to become so evil and commit these atrocities against their own neighbors. The argument being that group pressure forces people to commit sins they didn’t know they were capable of. That power corrupts humanity. These group founders toe that line. They see themselves as judge, jury, and executioner. They believe permanent bans shake people to their cores. Their meteoric rise from high school band to power wielding Facebook Gestapo has convinced them they’re local heroes. They think they’re self-appointed politicians and walk around the grocery store with their nose pricked up a little too high in the air. But they’re always correct. 

Of course the only way to navigate these cyber trenches is to mess with absolutely everyone. No discriminating, everyone can get it. I live in a square mile beach town and complained one time that there was too much sand on the walkway and that people need to learn to wipe their feet better when coming off the beach. 300 comments and unlimited dirty looks at traffic lights later and I’ve cemented myself as a certified player in this game. Disagree with things that don’t warrant an opinion. Ask questions that don’t make any sense. Accuse imaginary people of things that never happened. Have fun at everyone’s expense. Because you’re always right. 

Medieval Times Knights Are Trying To Unionize

I’ve been telling people years that chivalry isn’t dead. It’s alive and well at Medieval Times. It appears that Tony Soprano finally made his way to the castle. The HuffPost wrote an article on the working conditions of the Lords and Ladies at Medieval Times which can be read here. 

The workers are claiming the same as any workforce trying to create a union. Better pay, safer conditions, and more recognition. 

Better pay definitely. If the article is to be believed, some of the performers start out at Jersey’s minimum wage of $13/hr. I’m sorry? Thirteen bucks to take a joust to the chest and fall off a horse? I think not sir! These men and women are icons! Professionals! Should be celebrities. 

As for the working conditions, it appears the issues mainly stem from the loyal subjects in attendance. Grabbing at the damn falcon as it flies over head, clanging the goblets and spooking horses to the point where knights are knocked off saddles. Once the mead gets flowing, there’s no telling what the townsfolk are capable of. They want more security measures, sure, but that won’t fix shit. It’s old laws in the castle. Have a knight grab a glove and smack the customer across the face with it. That’s it, they have no choice but to suit up and duel now. Make an example out of the first one with that spikey ball and chain thingy and the rest should fall in line. 

Medieval Times is a magical place. A place for feasts, majestic creatures, tournaments of honor, and getting handjobs on field trips junior year of high school. I thought she just wanted my mashed potatoes but she wanted much much more than that. Second the lights went down she hopped on my lap and it was on. Whispers and rumors be damned. There’s still a piece of me there in the men’s bathroom. Took the bus ride home full of hickeys and dirty looks from Mrs. Nestor. My grandmother smacked me across the mouth when she saw the state of my neck. Never hooked up with that girl again after I courted her in the castle. No explanation, not even an acknowledgment, completely alphaed me. What a woman. 

It’s always been very clear to me that everyone gets exactly what they’re looking for at Medieval Times. So why not the workers? High time the King comes down from his ivory tower and does the right thing. 

The Curious Case Of Arch Manning

Not since LeBron’s “taking my talents to South Beach” presser has the sports world held their breath like this on a decision. As it stands today, Arch Manning will be a Texas Longhorn and a whole lot of people are upset about it. Let’s check in on the last two champions to see how they’re taking it. 

The Twittersphere of college fandom is not handling this well. The same fans who were posting Arch’s highlights, making banners for his visits, and pleading for him to joint them are now resorting to accusing him of only playing against JV talent. 

https://twitter.com/jukedlyig/status/1540117683236110336?s=21&t=CXHW2rRZSYeRzTA1DVk4FQ

Arch was touted as a coveted prospect since before he had his fist kiss. Programs have pulled out all the stops. Poor Lane, if it wasn’t Alabama I wanted it to be him. Lane Kiffin would grab “We Want Arch” signs from fans to hype up crowds, had “MANNING” conviently painted on the Ole Miss endzones, and had Arch as his 1 following on Twitter. But Kiffin wasn’t the only one trying to impress this child. 

I’ll be honest, when Nick Saban started showing up to Arch’s basketball games, and was rumored to be bringing on Manning disciple David Cutcliffe - I thought we were gonna get him. But it just wouldn't feel right seeing a Manning in Crimson. Hell, I spent the entire 2015 Tennessee/Alabama game motherfucking Peyton on the sidelines from the top of my lungs. Did I want Arch? Yeah. Will I trash him like everyone else now that he didn’t pick my school? Of course. But I’m not worried about it one bit. It will only make it that much sweeter when Alabama’s next quarterback and Texas native Jalen Milroe whomps the Longhorns upon their arrival to the SEC. 

Will Arch even be good? He’s never had to compete for a quarterback start in his entire life. You show me a Pop Warner or HS football coach who would start some no name under center over the kid with “Manning” on his back and I’ll show you a liar. Now he’s two seasons away for competing for his spot against the highest rated QB prospect in history in Quinn Ewers. Ewers is only the 6th prospect ever to receive a perfect 1.0000 rating from 247Sports. Good luck little buddy. 

Of course a lot can happen between now and then. Texas could suck and be subject to a mediocre recruiting class next year. People could jump ship in the portal is they underperform again. Arch could change his mind. 

But I doubt it. It makes too much sense for a Manning to not only lead Texas “back” but to be the ship that steers them into the SEC. And if I’m being honest, Sarkisian is one the smartest offensive minds in CFB to take him under his tutelage. As long as he’s sober. 

But this is the beauty of college football. The grown men who created photoshops of a junior in high school in their college jerseys are now bullying him online. As they damn well should be. So good luck Arch Manning, and I mean this sincerely, go fuck yourself twerp. 

People To Avoid At A Wedding

Wave goodbye to your PTO and lube up your checking accounts, it’s wedding season. Whether you’re a Travolta or a wallflower, nobody can actually dislike weddings. Worst case scenario, it’s free steak and booze. But in order to make it to the finish line flawlessly, there are characters at play that you might want to avoid. 

The bridesmaid/groomsman who thinks they’re in charge. They maintain at defcon 1 and never come down. They critique your every move as if everything is life or death. As if you bowing at the wrong time during the mass would somehow make the priest say “That’s it! I’m not marrying them.” They’re the ones who make everyone embarass the shit out of each other while getting announced during the reception. The shopping cart and fish hook can only hold on for so long. It’s like, chill out. It’s not that serious our friends are just putting higher stakes on cheating on one another. 

Old people. Avoid them at all costs. Besides the bathroom, a wedding is the most dangerous place for an old to be. I’ve seen ambulances summoned at the last three weddings I’ve been to. One for trouble breathing after walking outside to the cigar bar, another for heat exhaustion, and the last one took a tumble dancing. If no one spills on your dance floor your wedding sucks, but Nana and Pop Pop can’t navigate those waters. You don’t want to be the one standing there when they go down. Because either A. You look like the asshole who didn’t catch them or B. You’re now part of the de facto medic team who needs to save their life. But you’ve been sampling the bride and grooms specialty drinks for three hours and have no formal training. 

The Tik Tokker. It’s hard enough ducking and dodging the paid videographer, now we have a two front war against guerilla producers. Can’t I just have fun without you pimping me out for twenty eight likes on your Tik Tok? Get that light out of my face. Use all the hashtags you want, no one’s algorithm includes you screaming half-correct lyrics over a shaky video of other people having fun. I don’t care what the newest trend is, you’re thirty two, put the phone down. 

The couple who should already be engaged. If they’re at your table by happenstance, pray silently for a miracle. He’s dragging his feet and she’s not happy about it. All of that is going to surface tonight on your watch. If you hear “Can you settle something…” just run. Sprint away, don’t even explain yourself to anybody. And if you brought a plus one, point them out. Because somebody is about to get hurt during that bouquet toss. 

The first person to say “Ain’t no laws when drinking claws.” Kick them out. They’re not getting their hotel deposit back and they’re going to try and fuck someone’s aunt or uncle. They came alone to fuck and drink, but they’ve been turned down by everyone they’ve approached. So there’s only one thing left for them to do. Ruin everything. They may trap you bumming a cigarette or attempting to impart wisdom on the drink line. That’s unavoidable. But at all costs, distance yourself by ten rows on the bus ride back to the hotel because they’re going to throw up on the shoes you rented. 

So dust off those suspenders, pray somebody bombs on their speech, and get out on that dance floor. Nobody looks like an idiot during Shout, remember that. Boogie with the people trying to have a good time and skrrt skrrt the ones getting in the way of that. Let’s have ourselves a wedding season. 

My Most Embarrassing Moment

I’ve pissed myself, I’ve shit myself, I’ve thrown up on myself in a car in Atlanta and everyone had to sit in ther car with me two hours back to Tuscaloosa. I’ve been lost for hours and been found by my friends splitting a calzone on the curb with a homeless man. Im close, but I haven’t deleted all the copies of the picture of me asleep on the toilet with shit in the bowl, puke on the floor, and my weiner flopping around. But that’s all me drunk in college. I mostly laugh at that stuff.

Years of torture from older cousins and cruel friends has conditioned me to shrug off embarrassment. There’s not much you can say to me or about me that would cause me turmoil. But where I do lose sleep is when my actions cause someone else distress. That’s the stuff that makes me to throw punches in the air when the thoughts creep in during a shower. Even decades later. Here’s my worst one. 

My family is extremely close, and it was even more so  during the yesteryears. My sister is four years older than me and we used to tell each other everything. On this one particular day after school, she was acting strange. Everybody noticed it except my Mom who wouldn’t be home from work until 8:00. My sister was in the seventh grade at the time, so I was in third. Eight or nine years old. I remember my Dad calling her out on her attitude that day which was weird because she was the golden child. She especially didn’t welcome the criticism on today of all days since her friend Alicia was over. It was warranted from Dad though, she was letting him have it for no reason. 

Dad dispatched me out to get to the bottom of this. He instructed me to find out if a boy was picking on her, she got an ultra rare bad grade in school, or if a crush had been mean to her. Something was happening to my big sister, and I was going to fix this no matter the cost. Sleep easy Dad, I got this. Before I could even begin my inquiry, I was met with a crude “Do you EVER leave me alone?!” Real nice, good luck finding someone to play Beanie Babies with later. I reported back to Dad, who said fuck it and went back to bed. He was working midnights at the time. I wasn’t satisfied with the results so I went to the top of the stairs for a little recon eavesdropping. 

I was literally keeping my ear to the ground and couldn't hear shit. There was a lot of fast whispering going on but I couldn't make anything out. I heard the downstairs bathroom door open and close. Then nothing. Not even the subtle sounds of movement from whoever should have been left in the dining room. Did they hear me eavesdropping and scurry to the bathroom for privacy? Fools! Just made it easier for me. I Mission Impossible'd the stairs without a single creak to find an empty first floor. I crept up to the bathroom door and laid my ear against it. I could hear words but none of them were making sense. They were in there for way too long fiddling around with stuff. When I heard the sink start running, I booked it back to HQ (top of the stairs). 

I gave them about ten minutes of what sounded like homework and walked downstairs very nonchalantly without a word to either of them. I pretended that I was walking to the snack cabinet and then BAM beelined to the bathroom and locked the door. Time was precious, all my sister had to do was run upstairs and get the key to unlock the bathroom. Lifted the toilet seat, nothing. Checked the cabinets, under the sinks, nothing, nothing. I locked eyes with the trash bin. Unused toilet paper was clearly placed on top of the trash to cover something up. It might have gone unnoticed to the untrained eye, but I was on a mission. I looked underneath and found a wad of more toilet paper wrapped around something. This was it, I picked it up. A few weeks prior I had chased my sister with a dead bird on a dare from my older cousin, I wasn't afraid of touching a little trash. 

I ran out of the bathroom with my evidence, laughing maniacally. My sister screamed bloody murder while her and her friend bum-rushed me. They paused on either side of the kitchen table thinking they had me cornered. I was just looking at my sister like "That's right woman, you've been found out. I've got whatever sketchy shit you've been up to in that bathroom". They charged from both sides of the table, idiots. Hard wood floors, I slid right underneath. Bobbing, weaving, spin moving I made my way through the house. Alicia almost had me for a second and scratched me across the face trying to grab me. She drew first blood. I cranked up the Dante Hall moves and made my way to the front door. It was over, I won. They couldn't catch me in the open field. 

I took off down the neighborhood, package secured. I'm whooping it up and literally high stepping to the street corner. I'm doing touchdown celebrations and a second away from the Ickey Shuffle when I hear my full name screamed out by my father. Instant shiver down my spine. He spots me dancing on the corner and starts sprinting down the sidewalk. My dad, who I didn't even know could run, was barreling towards me at blazing speed. My brain went back into Agent Cody Banks mode: "Whatever I uncovered here must be very valuable and needs to be seen by the public. My own family is covering this up. Dad's flipped, this runs deep." I wanted to run but my legs were concreted in fear. 

My father had the angriest face I had ever seen him make, he was never the disciplinarian. Through his teeth he said, "Go back inside, apologize to your sister, and put that back where you found it. After that, go up to your room and I'll be with you in a second. What the FUCK is wrong with you?" I had never heard my dad curse, nevermind saying 'fuck'. I was fricken pissed. A second ago this guy was on my team? He was running the op! Yeah, I might've gone a little rogue, but I'm the one who completed the mission! Do you not see this scratch underneath my eye? I risked everything for this. Pent up with rage, I double-timed back to the house. 

I found my sister clearly distraught, being consoled by her friend. I walked up with the tissues still in hand and tried to reach out to apologize. I was genuinely sorry that I was the one who hurt my sister like this. I didn't know how I did it, but I was sorry nevertheless. My hand was slapped away by Alicia who said, "I think you should stay away from her for now". Fuck you Alicia, bitch. I jogged to the bathroom and tossed my questions back into the trash can. Fighting away tears of my own, I headed upstairs to await my punishment. Leaving my beloved sister crying on the couch. 

That's how her first period went. 

My father was still angry and trying his best to explain menstruation to a nine year old. It hadn't even occurred to me that my sister had girl parts and that they acted different from my own privates. I got a stern talking to on respecting people's privacy and why it's not a good idea to pick up a woman's used pad. Whatever that was. The whole mood was pretty somber and it stayed that way until I busted out crying. "Is she sick? Why won't it stop bleeding?" I thought her vagina was broken. My dad busted out laughing which only made my sister scream "None of this is funny!"

I'd like to take this time now to apologize to my sister. From time to time, that memory sneaks into my head and I have to bury my face in a pillow to ride out the cringe. Fuck, I'm sorry Laur. My sister and I are still very close to this day. She's married now with three little girls of her own and I'm godfather to the most mischievous one. She currently has a little boy on the way. Hopefully he respects his big sisters' privacy more than I was able to.  

My Barstool Idol Ideas

Let’s get the mushy stuff out of the way. There are a lot of talented people on Barstool Idol who are going to make it very difficult for the judges to make decisions in the upcoming two days. With that being said, if I didn’t have the belief in myself to be the best of them I would have stopped sending these blogs years ago. 

With all Barstool shows I consume, I play along. Try to beat teams to the punch on The Dozen, think of what I would say on a topic during The Rundown, and now, what content I would create on Barstool Idol. 

It’s easy to be a Monday morning quarterback, I get that. That’s what my criticism would be reading this blog. But all of my solutions, answers, and ideas came either immediately of learning the challenge or within five minutes. I know I can’t prove that but all I can say is I swear to God. 

Day One I absolutely would have gone the John Rich route. I’ve already daydreamed about doing this every time I’ve applied for Barstool Idol. I would choose my blog, 5 Insane Ways We Used To Flirt On The Internet. It’s not the best written blog in my arsenal, but some things are meant to be read instead of presented. This format gives me a list that would couple perfectly with a PowerPoint presentation. If you didn’t read the blog, the five ways with their own commentary are #WCW (Woman Crush Wednesday), Facebook Poking, MySpace Top 8, MMT Treatment (personal anecdote), and AIM Profiles. It’s easy to format, funny, relatable, and nostalgic - which always plays. 

I had two ideas for the group video on Day Two. Since one idea required a specific makeup of male, male, female, I had another backup idea in case the the structure didn’t go in my favor. 

Group Video Idea 1(mmf) : Video starts off with one of us saying something along the lines of “We have been making fools of ourselves during Barstool Idol in hopes of landing our dream jobs. So we decided to let complete strangers in on the fun witnessing our embarrassment. Where better than Times Square?” Then the camera would pan to us all dressed up in super hero outfits ready for a competition where whoever gets the most pictures with strangers wins. In a perfect world, it’d be myself vs Luke round one since we’re both bigger guys, and we’d give the girl a first round bye. The guys would incorporate body paint and look ridiculous while the girl would be like a knockout Wonder Woman or something. The two guys face off with a sign that says “Free Pictures Choose One” with arrows pointing to each of us. We’d incorporate super hero jokes and interact with the strangers taking pictures with us. Then whoever wins faces Wonder Woman in round two. The video just cuts to a million people taking pictures with her as her picture counter went up, and up, and up, and up as the guy stands there like a schmuck with 0 the entire time. For the final shot we grab like 20 dudes and have them line up to take a picture with whoever’s dressed as Wonder Woman. The camera goes slow-mo showing the length of her line and then cuts to a behind shot of the guy with nobody in front of him saying “Step on up whenever you’re ready.”

Group Video Idea 2: I’d call it Stool Science. Sort of like ESPN’s old “Sports Science”, but tackling the questions we’ve always wondered about ourselves. In this video we’d explore how many drinks it takes for us to be rendered blackout drunk. After each drink, each person would answer a funny and personal question about themselves written by the other members of the team. The questioning shot would be the face of only the team member giving an answer. The next day we’d review the footage and say which was the last question we remember answering. Then we’d give our height, weight, sex, and leave a chart for others to know where they might want to draw the line. Obviously, if Marcy was on the team she couldn’t drink. To compensate I’d have her write the majority of the questions. This would have made Yak basketball that much more difficult but it would also probably be hilarious if my entire team was hungover. 

Obviously a lot of Day Three was interactions off the cuff so I can’t attest to what I would have said since I don’t know what I would have been asked. But what I would have control over would be interacting with Frank and my merch. 

Frank is a delicate balancing act because you don’t want to come across like you’re teasing him. If you’re mean to Frank you’re a dickhead. But I think I could have him talking about funny topics related to his passion. Like asking him how he would feel about bringing in Theo Epstein to break the Mets’ curse. Or playing dumb about the Braves and asking him what the Tomahawk Chop is in hopes that he’d do it himself live on stream. 

As for my merch, I think I have a fire shirt. Again retro/nostalgia always slaps. I’d construct one of those retro sports shirts that looked like ESPN threw up a bunch highlights on the fabric. I think they used to be popular with baseball and Nascar. Like this: 

But instead of an athlete I’d do George Washington. With the Fourth of July right around the corner, I believe a graphic tee the first president crossing the Delaware and signing the Declaration of Independence would fly off the shelves to both genders. 

Barstool has done a great job putting on Barstool Idol. I’m invested and can’t wait to see what Day Four has in store. I just hope those contestants know how lucky they are. Because I’d lie, cheat, and steal to be in any of their shoes. 

What Is The Statute Of Limitations On Being A Post Grad?

I guess techinically speaking after graduation you’ll always be post-grad. But you know what I mean. How long am I allowed to be a Workaholic character? How long does my buddy get away with wearing a snapback backwards on his head? At what point does the allure of my untapped potential of being fresh out of college fizzle away into being just a lukewarm contribution to society? 

There are two types of people after they graduate college. Those ready to tackle the world and those who understand that it just ended. 

Sometimes we talk about stories from college like they just happened and that we’re still dealing with the blowback. But shit man, some of that stuff was eight or nine years ago. We’ve been out for six. Fuck is this supposed to be my prime? By the standards I hold baseball players to it should be. Am I bust? 

It doesn’t feel so long ago because not much has changed. We still gamble over beer pong games, argue over cleaning up the hundred empty cans in the morning, and navigate dodging our parents when we’re hungover. 

But then again, my old roommate FaceTimed me from Germany yesterday to tell me how his conference that he’s running is going. Then he tried convincing me to come out for a week and we hashed out the logistics. The only thing that stopped me was my upcoming twenty day Europe trip in September. That’s not a conversation post grads have. That’s not a scene from Workaholics. Not even Ders went to Europe?

But his biggest selling point was how much we could drink and how he thinks I’d slay in Germany. So…

Where’s the line? I feel like our generation keeps moving the goalposts on adulthood. Birthed by the internet to fuck around too much which resulted in stunting growing up. 

When am I a grown up? When I have a kid of my own? When the movies stops giving me a discount from my decade old student ID? Is this why people go back for their masters? To re-up their potential facade and expand their prime window. Maybe I have to look into taking out another loan because right now I’m riding this thing til the wheels fall off. 

Getting Banned From Arenas Is Fake

Faker than fake Klay Thompson. This story was making it rounds last week during the NBA Finals when a grown man who dresses like his favorite basketball player snuck into the Warriors’ arena and put some shots up on the court. Earned himself a lifetime ban. He also casually snuck in that he paid 10k for the tickets and wants you to know he’s totally cool with it. 

Yeah 

Pinned it too for good measure. 

I have reason to believe that the real Klay Thompson was behind the decision to ban his imposter. This Big Daws dude looks NOTHING like Klay Thompson. And I know that Klay hates him for it. He dons a full Klay Thompson uniform to Warriors games - shorts and jersey. That’s where the resemblance starts and ends. If you saw this guy in street clothes at the bar and he asked you if he looked like Klay you’d say, “Nope, not at all. What do you mean? Because you also have a goatee that makes you Klay Thompson?” You know real Klay gets clowned for this dude in the locker room. Klay has to know the guy is uhgly. I’m sure his teammates have a field day calling him his twin. 

My theory is Klay had enough. Got a whiff of the latest stunt and called the owner to ensure his ban. But bad news for Klay, if Big Daws wants to end his lifetime ban from the arena all he has to do is go to a game not dressed in a full Klay Thompson jersey. 

Stadium/arena bans aren’t real. When I was still a little tyke, brandishing a fake ID that I got shipped in a shoe box from China, I got banned from the Prudential Center in Newark. It was my buddies’ fault, he was acting reckless and my ID was checked after the fact just because I was with him. We were taken into a back room, had our photos taken, and given paperwork that laid out the details of our ban. I stole our fakes back off their desk before we were escorted out  the arena by some hidden stairwell. 

Problem was, I had floor seats for a Jay-Z concert at Prudential scheduled literally the next day. I paid big bucks for them for my brother’s birthday so I said fuck it and went anyway. No one stopped me from entering, no one kicked me out of my seats, AND the same fake ID they thought they confiscated worked again less than 24 hours later. 

Why wouldn’t it? What do you think happens? You think the people who take your tickets have a list of the thousands of people banned memorized to stop you at the gates? They don’t even check your ID at the gate, you think they have every single face burned into their memory? No. Or there’s some pit boss at every stadium running facial recognition software on a wall of 100 screens to make sure anyone who’s ever been banned never steps foot in their arena again? Of course not. 

So although Big Daws, Twitter, and the rest of the internet made a big deal about the ban it’s actually the littlest deal in the world. If Daws wants to go to a Warriors game all he has to do is not look like Klay Thompson. Which shouldn’t be difficult for him whatsoever.