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Blog Submissions From All Nine Remaining Barstool Idol Contestants

One of today's assignments for the nine remaining Barstool Idol contestants was to write a blog. To ensure fairness and everyone got the same amount of pageviews, we are including them all in one blog. Everyone's subject was decided by the wheel. Seven of the contestants were to write about their most embarrassing moment. John actually got Raisins as his subject. And the Big Man on Campus, Jeff Nadu wrote a love letter to Ebony. I will list the blogs in the order received, but leave Jeff's at the bottom as I would figure that should get the most views. Full transparency, Jeff was the first to submit his blog, so shout out to him.

Brain Damage at Comic-Con by Ali

Receiving brain damage at comic-con is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I received the same brain injury running backs get when diving head first into the endzone during the Superbowl. Except mine happened to be surrounded by men who don’t wear deodorant, all waiting in line to get a picture with the guy who had the 4th most lines in the movie “Morbius”. 

It all started when I was in line waiting to meet Jay and Silent Bob and also the Trailer Park boys (ahem, ladies, my blog is up here). While this is one of the quickest ways to dry a vagina, I also decided to keep it cool by partaking in some drugs and alcohol. The old one, two punch, as Adrien Broner would call it. 

The lines were longer than the ones at Disney World yet shorter than the ones in Len Bias’s hotel room. So like any abled body adult, I decided to take a seat. Sitting is one of the best things you can do as an adult in my opinion. Anytime I start to stand, I'm already immediately looking forward to the next time I'm sitting. I think FDR was onto something, if I’m being honest. However this was the worst sit I have made in my lifetime of having ass cheeks, and I've taken a shit at Raymond James Stadium. I popped up too quickly from my resting position and immediately fainted. Falling side to side, being at Comic-Con nobody thought anything of it. They just thought I was a Breaking Bad fan cosplaying as Walter White’s son. 

I fainted. I did it, I woke up to the smell of guys avoiding speedstick. Only to find someone had ordered me a medical Uber, that’s what I call an ambulance, which I refused to get into like most drunk people do. The loud thud of my head hitting concrete caused a scene, very rarely are both Jay and Bob silent, but this time they were. Didn’t even say cheese for the picture. But thanks to my brain damage I have a new lease on life. I’m a guy who doesn’t take no for an answer, I do what I want. I fight through the pain and decline rides in ambulances to the hospital. Not because of my new “Gremlin Mode” attitude but mostly because I don’t have insurance. 

I now join all the greats with brain damage. Nikola Tesla, every NFL fullback ever, and most importantly the king of brain damage, Joe Biden. I’m looking to make a mark in this world and not letting brain damage stop me from doing so. Even if I have to wear a helmet while I sit on the toilet now “just incase”. 

Pages of Embarrassment by Chris Klemmer

There used to be a large book delivered to your home that was filled with white and yellow pages. This book had the names and phone numbers of everyone and every business in your town. I worked for this book which was called the Yellow Pages for almost a year. It was a terrible job.

However when I first got the job in 2006, I was excited. It was a pretty big bump in pay from my last job where I was trapped in a cubicle selling software products. Working for the phone book would have me out on the road visiting various businesses and trying to get them to buy advertising in the Yellow Pages while telling them search engines wouldn’t last and the phone book would be forever.

It was my second week on the job and my new boss wanted to come along with me to do a ride along. He’d evaluate my selling technique and offer tips on how best to position the Yellow Pages. His name was Cliff and he was a short man with giant black hair. I was equally nervous and excited for this drive.

The morning was going well as we traveled New Hampshire in my 1991 Ford Tempo. We saw a few businesses and Cliff seemed pleased early on. He also forced us to listen to a playlist he made that had money or cash in the title of every song. He said this would be a motivational tool and I could keep the CD. It was not a motivational tool and would be thrown in the garbage in mere months. But aside from the Bare Naked Ladies blaring from the speakers, it was a beautiful day.

Until the blue lights appeared in my rear view mirror.

I was being pulled over and when I asked the office why, he said my left brake light was out. He said it wasn’t a big deal but still needed to run my license and registration. I certainly felt awkward but Cliff assured me this wasn’t a big deal and the cop seemed friendly enough.

When the police officer came back to the car, he told me “I have good news and bad news. I’m the nicest cop who will ever arrest you.” I had never been arrested before or since so this was a statement of fact. He’s also the cruelest man to ever arrest me.

My heart sank as he asked me to exit the car and place my hands behind my head. I was so stunned, I couldn’t even speak. I just did what he said while repeating some combination of the first syllables of “innocent” and “understand” over and over.

As bad as it was being placed in the back seat of the police car, I felt even worse 25 seconds later. When Cliff popped into the seat next to me. For a brief moment, I imagined this was a giant takedown of the Yellow Pages and anyone associated with them was going to pay a price.

Instead, I was told the reason I was being arrested was because my license was suspended for an unpaid car inspection ticket from years earlier. I had no idea about the ticket or my license because I had moved a few years earlier and stupidly never given the DMV my new address. The mail had never forwarded over.

I would end up being fingerprinted and was forced to remove my tie as I sat in a holding cell while my boss bailed out his newest employee. It probably sounds like a wild overreaction but this whole process was wildly dehumanizing. When I was released from my twenty minute incarceration, I asked Cliff if something like this had ever happened to him before hoping to hear a lurid tale about the time he had hired a serial murderer.

Instead, Cliff gave a puzzled look and said he hadn’t. He also didn’t fire me and once I got my license back by the end of the week, I was back on the road and telling small businesses that Google was just a fad.

But anytime I’ve gotten pulled over since then and given the cop my license, I get very nervous.

I'm Wet by Caroline Baniewicz

It was my first day of college. I had been homeschooled my entire life and my social anxiety was through the roof. It was my first day at a school ever and I was eager to make friends.  A group of girls in my major had already become friends and I was desperate to break into their clique. I used all my best tactics - kissing ass, (metaphorically and literally), gossiping, and compulsively lying.

Finally, the moment happened… 

The ring leader, a menacing 5'1” 18 year-old with the power of unlimited funding from her parents (they were over compensating for prioritizing their careers over their children), asked… “does anyone have a hair tie?” My heart stopped. This was my moment. I placed my hands inside my extremely tight American eagle denim shorts (they were so tight they were definitely giving me a yeast infection), and I pulled out…. a scrunchie. 

I handed her the scrunchie. She replied, “Thanks girl! Do you want to come to Chick-Fil-A with us?” I couldn’t believe it. I was in. As we walked down the main steps of our school into the promised land of homophobic chicken and friendship, something terrible happened. I fell…. I fell HARD. 

As the girls laughed, I realized… I was soaking wet. A small pond had formed underneath me… Not a puddle…. A POND. What looked like 42 liters of discolored lemonade had formed on the ground underneath me. I had… pissed myself. 

My clothes were soaked. It was my first day, and I wanted to make a big splash…. unfortunately, I DID make a big splash. 

I laughed it off and walked across campus to the freshman dorms with the other girls. The 5'1" ring leader was so short, her nose was pretty close to my discolored pee shorts. I can't imagine the smell… I was very dehydrated. 

As I contemplated ending my life, I realized… I had left the keys to my dorm at the other building…. across campus. The girls went to get food, as I did the wettest (and not in a good way) walk of shame. When I walked back into the building, I saw that my small pond had been walked through and spread all over the floor, soaking the feet of my professors and fellow students. 

I realized in that moment, I had made my mark

My Fatal Flaw - Wyatt Moss

We’ve all done it at least once. It’s embarrassing, it sticks with you, and to you for that matter, it's an experience every man, woman and child wants to avoid in their lifetime. My most embarrassing story is also my most embarrassing trait: I shit my pants. 

Ok we’re moving too fast, let me bring you back to 2008 in my neighbors hot tub where I discovered my fatal flaw. It was a cold January night and my neighbors invited me over to hop in their hot tub, as we had done once or so a week for the years we had known them; although, something was out of the ordinary. The air had a weird texture to it, I felt like I was already partially swimming as I approached the scene where it all went down. On top of that, a putrid odor plagued my nostrils as an unsettling feeling began to grow in my stomach. It wasn’t butterflies, a better way to describe it would be lightning bugs - a scattered flash of heat gargled my stomach contents, progressively getting faster with each step. And then it just went away. My friend Bryan and I hopped in the pool and did what guys do in hot tubs, stayed 6 feet apart and struck up a conversation. It was probably about playing cards as I was really into baseball at that time- oh dear lord… what was that. 

The housing market was not the only crisis that night, and arguably what happened was worse. I don’t even remember the details - the night was a blur, even blurrier than the hot tub I left as I waddled inside. 

I knew this would be a funny story to tell when I was older. The embarrassing part is that year after year, it has evolved into something different; a monster within. Each birthday it grew a new face. When I was eight, I couldn’t drink milk. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary, and trust me I’ve since grown out of it. When I was 10, it turned into mountains. 13, whenever I ran. 18, AP exams, and last year, flights. 

That last one hit home. Long story short, I was running late for a flight to drop off a plaque I made for a podcast in LA - it was a huge deal for me. I hop on the plane, and right as we’re taking off, and you know, the fasten seatbelt signs are on, flight attendants tell you to sit still or die, the monster struck once again. The conversation that followed between me and Susan:

Me: Excuse me ma’am, may I use the restroom?

Susan: Sir, the fasten seatbelts signs are on, please wait until we’ve reached 30,000 feet. 

Me: Ma’am, I need to use the restroom now, I don’t think I can wait. 

Susan: Sir, that is against the code, I am not allowed to say you can use the restroom while we’re taking off, so please wait. 

Me: Ma’am I cannot wait any longer, I don’t care about the code, I’m using the restroom. 

And so on, until I shoved her down the aisle and ran to the bathroom. Ok that part is a lie, but you get the point. As I conclude my confession, I invite you, the reader, to number how many times this has happened to you. Reaffirm that I’m not the only one. Please. Until the day I conquer the monster within, a day that may never come. 

General Talk: Raisins by John Rich

Where to raisins come from?

Raisins are the result of grapes after they have been left out in the sun for too long. The grapes shrivel up to become raisins. (Grape + Time/Sun = Raisin) – see chart

How are raisins sold?

In a thin flimsy box that provides little to no protection from the outside world. Raisins are a great food to tamper with. You could slip a razor blade into the box without much trouble.

How many raisins are in a box?

Depends on the size of the box. It ranges anywhere from 30 to 9,600 raisins per box. One ounce = 60 raisins.

How many raisins could you eat in one sitting?

Probably a thousand at least. They go down fairly easily.

Do raisins only come in a gross purple?

No not at all. They come in gross red, gross green, and gross gold. The golden raisins look stickier than the other colors, but that is most likely just the picture I happened to look at.

What about Craisins?

An intern who’s name I did not learn asked me about Craisins. Craisins are dried cranberries. They are not raisins and do not belong in this blog. I will not elaborate any further on Craisins. I also need to get better at introducing myself to people and remembering names. It is a problem I have had for a while, and I never seem to get better at it.

Who is the spokesperson for raisins?

The spokesperson for raisins is the Sun-Maid Raisins Lady. They still use her today. She has increased a full 5 hotness points over the last century. In case these pictures cannot be used, imagine the Sun Maid Raisin Lady as a 4, then about 100 years later she’s a 9.

Which Barstool Idol Contestant looks the most like the Sun-Maid Raisins Lady?

Dani (compliment)

What about the singing raisins?

Yes, there were singing raisins as well. They were in a band called the California Raisins. They released an album once. Their hair was the exact same color as their skin. It is hard to not think of poop when you look at them. Their names are A.C. Arborman, Beebop Arborman, Stretch Thompson, and Red Raisin. The California Raisins campaign failed miserably and ended up costing raisin growers over twice their earnings.

Which of the California Raisins have been charged with sex crimes?

Stretch Thompson. He is the only California Raisin with a criminal record

Did the California Raisins ever get into non-sexual shenanigans?

Certainly. The California Raisins lived in an alternate universe inhabited by anthropomorphic fruits & veggies. They had a friend named Lick Broccoli. They were more often entangled in shenanigans than not.

Which Barstool Idol contestant looks the most like a California Raisin?

Jeff Nadu (not really a compliment)

You only have 15 minutes to finish this blog before you have to make your video, is there anything else you would like to say about raisins?

I used to eat raisins as a snack a lot as a child. I always enjoyed them. I feel like they get a bad rap. People will have a visceral reaction if you tell them that you put raisins in a cookie. I would prefer a cookie not have raisins, but to each their own.

On April Fools Day one time my mom pranked us by putting raisins in our toothpaste. She thought when we squeezed it we would think there were ants in our toothpaste tube. But raisins look nothing like ants so we just thought someone put raisins in there.

Let me know if there is anything else about raisins you would like me to comment on.

3 Grad Parties in 3 hours, What’s the Worst That Could Happen by Marcy

Glazed meatballs, baked beans, little weenies in a slow cooker, veggies with ranch dip. What do all of these foods have in common? Correct. They all rev the engine to your bowel movements. Another commonality is that these were all foods that I had eaten in a matter of two hours. It was the busiest day of the year for graduation parties. To be precise, they were all back to back parties. I was headed to my final party of the day. 

I plugged in the address to my Apple Maps, started the song Jordan Belfort because what 16 year old wouldn’t think they’re cool with that song playing. I pulled into the house that I saw with balloons on the mailbox, and walked into the newly finished garage. Like I said, the combination of grad party foods were freshly settling in my stomach. I noticed there was a bathroom in the garage. I would say I decided to use the bathroom, but it was more my intestines that made that decision for me. Of course, I took a massive shit in their newly renovated bathroom. I reached toward my right to see that there was no toilet paper on the roll. I did not fret, for I thought these people would have the decency to have extra rolls under the sink. There was no hand towel either. Don’t ask me why that option crossed my mind, but it did. I was out of luck and quite frankly out of options. I improvised, and used gift tissue from the present I was going to gift my dear friend, Justin. I thought I was semi off the hook and felt like Macgyver for thinking of something so innovative, yet so small and simple, literally. I reached to flush the toilet, and the toilet didn’t flush. I decided maybe to give the toilet a breather and wash my hands first, then go back to flushing. I pulled the lever of the sink towards me to find that no water came out. The sink also failed me. The thoughts of me being MacGyver soon faded away and the overwhelming realization came that they had not yet installed plumbing in the outdoor bathroom. I was embarrassed, flustered, and felt like I was in a real life nightmare. Here next to me stood a tissue-less gift, remains of my grad party lunches in the toilet, and a reflection of the stupidest person I’ve ever met in the mirror. I decided that since I drove 27 minutes out of my way to attend this grad party I might as well at least just say hi. I open the garage door that is the entrance to the house and closed the door behind me. I began to walk into the living room and as I looked up, I saw happy birthday streamers, a paw patrol balloon, a cake with the number 3 candle on it, and a family of about 14 heads turn my direction. My jaw dropped. Yet no words came out of my mouth. I was speechless for the first time in my life. I had just walked into a complete stranger's home, and took a shit in their unfinished bathroom seconds before they began to sing happy birthday to their 3 year old son. I turned myself around, and booked it out of the house. I said absolutely nothing. To this day, I still don’t know how I said absolutely nothing, and will forever wonder if their 3 year old thought he got a literal pile of shit for his birthday, because it even had the added gift tissue on it. After I sped out of their gravel driveway to book it home, I passed a house 3 doors down from the Paw Patrol Birthday Party, I saw a sign that read, “Congratulations Justin!” You’re damn right I didn’t stop, and you’re damn right Justin never got his Brailled Rubik’s cube. Justin was my blind friend who I helped walk around campus my sophomore year of high school. To make myself feel better, I told myself he never would’ve seen me at his party anyways.

Dying at Disney by Dani

What’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me you ask? At first, I was convinced that truly nothing embarrassing had ever happened to me, until I was gracefully presented with the memory of a specific day in my senior year of High School, circa 2016.

I will never forget how much of a pussy I was that day. It all started on the charter bus to Disneyland, when my friends had told me they were all taking edibles. Obviously without questions asked,  young and naïve Dani decided to demolish 75 mgs of THC (for the first time) with the rest of her friends.  One may think to themselves, “Wow Dani. Really? You couldn’t handle 75 mgs of THC?” And to answer that, “No, absolutely fucking not.”

Now this story wouldn’t be embarrassing if the edible hit me quite literally anywhere, except for the Matterhorn roller coaster at Disneyland. Because the moment I stepped off that thing, it was game over. I’m talking full green-out mode. Every pair of eyes in Disneyland were superglued to my face. Terrified was an understatement.

After 95% of my high school senior class asked me, “Are you okay?” (which is always the best question to ask someone in that state), I attempted to eat something to help sober me up. When I tell you that my Caesar salad felt like sandpaper on my throat, I mean every word. My throat was drier than a virgin. I then proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, throw up, pass out, and then sit stationary on a chair for the remaining 6 hours of our grad trip.

(Only picture I took that day, absolutely zonked on the chair.) 

The Horniest I've Ever Been by Luke

How horny have you ever been? What’s the most insane things you ever choked your chicken to? Have you ever watched porno just for the fun of it? Unfortunately I’ve seen treacherously horny days. 

I’ve been on a “don’t try and self-deprecate myself” kick for a while but Barstool Idol asking me to write a blog about the most embarrassing moment of my life calls for me to rake myself over the coals. After all I deserve it for this egregiously shameful act. 

I’ve always considered myself to be a horny man but not considerably hornier than any other male. I’ve watched many-a porn videos. The categories I’ve watched are despicable but that’s meant for another blog. I almost wish I was born in the 50’s just so I didn’t have access to this unlimited supply of orgasm inducing flicks. It’s too fuckin easy to get a horny thought and just take your phone out and fire away.

Enough of the bullshit. Time to tell you what I actually had the balls to J.O too. J.O means jerkoff you jerkoffs. Anyway this happened very recently. Which is even more embarrassing because I was 29 when this natural disaster happened. 

Anyway it was a Saturday afternoon I had just arose from a horrible slumber because I went to a local dive bar the night before and once again didn’t get laid. Shocker! Needless to say I was hungover as shit. I felt like those fish that suck algae in the tank mixed with Jon Lovitz before he went to hell in Little Nicky. On top of it all whattayaknow I was horny.

Some may say the horniest I’ve ever been. My disgrace of a penis needed to be beaten and I put on the boxing gloves.

As I said I was extremely hungover and I also had left my iPhone upstairs, I’m also a hefty boy so that doesn’t help the issue. No shot in hell I was getting my phone or my laptop. My spunk was getting out of me before I even thought about it.
This event happened in 2021, politics reached an all time low and people fuckin hate each other for it. I don’t give a fuck about politics. As long as you don’t own or have ever owned a selfie stick, you’re good in my book.

I reach for the TV remote and start looking for anything to get me off. Antiques Roadshow? No. Bar Rescue? Ehhh maybe, Taffer knows what the people want. I was willing to go to town on myself on commercials. Show me some fuckin skin somebody! Bravo? A&E? MTV? Nothing! Give me a break!  I scrolled a couple more channels and landed on a winner. FoxNews. They were showing reruns of the Ingraham Angle. If in your head you asked yourself if I absolutely treated my body like an amusement park to (shoutout Estelle Costanza) to Laura Ingraham talking about immigration. The answer is yes. She’s a woman, she has blonde hair and damn it she’s fiery. Surprisingly it didn’t take long, usually I’m pulling taffy on a hot summers day when I stroke my shit but today was a different animal. I knew a commercial break would’ve taking me on a train to Blue Balls City so thankfully I finished before that happened. 

Right after I felt fuckin terrible! Even worse than when i jacked off to 3D and piss porn. I apologize to my family, my friends, Jesus H himself and Laura Ingraham. It truthfully was the most embarrassing moment in my life. 

An Ode to Ebony by Jeff Nadu

I wanna take you back…. 2019, seems like forever ago right? Before words like Coronavirus and Tik Tok dominated every fuckin feed we have, I made my first trip to Barstool Sports. I was a kid with a dream who walked off the elevator and was full of my usual confidence. Now… I did have a fuckin blowout haircut and weighed 340 lbs but I was confident. Yeah, looking back it was wild to be that confident but to my surprise I stepped off the elevator and was greeted by a beautiful woman with beautiful features. Was she my type?  Absolutely… but I didn’t think love at first sight would happen on such a trip, but here I was. As I walked in she said: “who you here for”?  I was able to fire back “oh I’m here to meet Dave”. But for me the way she asked: “what I was here for”? I was smitten. That phrase did it for me. That tinge of “the Bronx”, that accent is something I fuckin love, her way with words… “fuck this, fuck that”. It was like when B-Rad met Shandra in Malibu’s Most Wanted. The tattoos, the hair, the matching sneakers to the top, the vibe. I loved it. I went through my career off and on at Barstool but there’s always one constant. Every time I came to the office, I was greeted with kindness but she was also unfiltered. It was a great mix. I’m a sucker for a boss bitch type but behind the rough wall exterior theres more. It was that perfect storm of emotions for me.  But they were good emotions and they just worked. It was a mix like when peanut butter meets jelly or when Big Cat finds coffee in the morning. 

Is this a love letter?  Not necessarily… it’s a pitch because good things take time and you deserve the effort.  I’m old fashioned and I know we all have power door locks now but maybe we can create our own Bronx Tale? Our Coloagero and Jane door test moment. Then maybe hit Arthur Avenue… have a cannoli and maybe one later? 

Im not gonna go too deep with that, I’m a gentleman but I’ll end it with this, yes you’re a bad boss bitch but you’re also other things. You’re a single mom out here in the game we call life and you’re getting it. I don’t want you to be a single mom anymore. Holla at me.