Now, look it, before we get started I am thrilled to be working at Barstool Sports. For the first time in…I guess my entire life I don’t hate my boss or any of my co-workers and I get to do pretty much whatever I want in terms of my day to day. Blog what I want, pod what I want, show up when I want. It’s great. Having said all of that…the electric chair was the worst fan experience of my life.
I’ve been following this webpage for a long time now. I’ve seen Big Cat’s soul leave his body on camera multiple times, I’ve seen KFC get contacted to death, and the Hubbs misery tou. Sunday night Eddie and I got our first taste of losing on camera. Basically anytime I’m in front of a camera it’s L based on the way my body/face look, but getting double-doinked and bird boxed made the loss infinitely worse. To the point that for a quick second I thought about quitting. Like, hey, it’s been a great week or whatever, but I resign because fuck this shit. People on the internet are mean. Like Deke Zucker last night, for example
I don’t even know what that means exactly, but it doesn’t sound nice. Holiday weight on full display, got caught picking my nose a couple times(dry nasal cavaties from that recirculated airplane air. We’ve all been there. You’d think people would understand, but nope). You know who I normally watch BIG games with? Uhh…just myself. I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to think about anything. I sit on one specific couch and depending how big the game is I have appropriate levels of reeses peanut butter cups on deck. Playoffs…I get reeses at walgreens. Facing elimination means I get the costco size packages. That’s the routine. Not voluntarily allowing the internet to enjoy misery and getting chirped by people I don’t really know and don’t know what the line is for shit talk for my new co-workers as the new guy. The nicest people were actually Smitty, Kate, and Rone. Rubbed our noses in shit, but respectfully. Everyone else, including Deke Zucker, can fuck right off.
All in all, it was the worst loss of my life and the whole internet was able to see it. Then, because our brains were broken we didn’t blog as much as we should’ve post-game so we got a warning shot email from Portnoy. Not a great start. That’s the blog life, I guess. Your heart just got punted to the moon? Cool, go search the internet for the next three hours for clips of that make you want to jump out of the window. Horrendous. This is no way to live. Only benefit of the Blackhawks not being serious contenders right now is that we are probably at least 9 months away from our next electric chair.