Storm Chasing Isn't As Easy As It Sounds

Before you proceed, I want everyone to be aware that Rone and Caleb are NOT featured in this video. I understand that everyone desires to see Rone and Caleb, and we share that sentiment as well, but unfortunately, they have retired. Thus, for the time being, you are stuck with us. 

On paper, storm chasing may appear to be every 24-year-old's dream: traveling across the country, watching college basketball, and enjoying drinks with your friends. However, I am here to inform you that it is not as easy as it sounds. I have attended some of the wildest music festivals in the world, and none of them have exhausted my body quite like storm chasing has. I am defeated. I have no energy left to give, and all I desire over the next three days is to lie in my bed, drink vitamin C, and sleep. 

Despite feeling utterly drained, akin to a toilet seat ravaged by someone after their morning coffee, I must admit that I had an amazing time with the boys.

Here's some of my favorite highlights from the trip:

Tommy Smokes Checking Crime Rates:

\As I've mentioned before, no one at Barstool is pretending to be something they're not; it's just their natural selves. Tommy Smokes is truly one of a kind, someone I am proud to consider family, but the man is terrified of his own shadow. Not only was he hesitant to drive because the mere thought of changing lanes fills him with dread, but he felt compelled to check the crime rate of every city we visited. Never in my life have I witnessed someone pull out their phone to scrutinize the crime rate of their current location. 

We had just arrived in Orlando, a city I lived in for two years, so I know it like the back of my hand. Sure, there's crack heads on every street, but since when did that become a cause for alarm? You would have thought I dropped Tommy in the midst of a gang conflict based on how much he was checking the crime rate. However, once he discovered that Orlando scored a mere 1 out of 100, with 1 being the least safe and 100 being the safest, the sentiment of "fuck it, we're all going to die anyway" seemed to take hold, and Tommy proceeded to conquer the city.

Zah Apologizing The Morning After:

We've all experienced it. It's a story as old as time itself. Whether it's a late-night message to your ex or a swipe up on a story of someone you've been drooling over, it always culminates in an apology. However, in this instance, Zah wasn't apologizing to the white cats; he was apologizing to the group chat for no apparent reason. Every time we went out, Zah's vibrant energy contributed significantly to our enjoyment, yet he seemed to think he had done something wrong. Despite our reassurances that he hadn't, we'd wake up to a text from Zah apologizing. 

The curious part was that his apology wasn't connected to any specific incident. For instance, if I messaged my ex at 4 am, I might say something like, "Hey, sorry for texting you last night." Zah's messages, however, would read more like, "Hey, guys, just wanted to apologize for last night. I'm not sure what I said or did, but I'm sorry." MY FRIEND, you have nothing to apologize for; you were the life of the party! 

Advertisement

Playing "Dangerous" by Morgan Wallen Until We Learned All The Words:

There are three things Glenny Balls loves in this world: sauces, boobs, and Morgan Wallen. In fact, Glenny came up with this amazing idea to open an amusement park called "Balls World." It would feature the best sauces and foods globally, staffed by individuals with perfect, perky breasts, and all rides would be water rapids. But most importantly, only songs sung by Morgan Wallen would be allowed. 

I thought I was a Drake meat-rider, but I don't meat-ride Drake half as hard as Glenny meat-rides Morgan. This man played "Dangerous" on repeat until we could recite the entire song. Although that song is permanently etched in my brain, it was worth it because, one, the song is a banger, and two, it became our rallying cry whenever the vibes were low. So to Balls, I thank you because I can see myself in the back of a cop car, banging my head on the window.