So this happened. Somebody actually used me and my cheeks as catfish bait.
This girl tracked me down on Facebook and messaged me last night…
(Dolphin rape, apparently the quickest way into a lady’s heart)
Ah, Barstool fame. Kind of like real fame but instead of money, respect and power I get a free beer once in a blue moon to go along with people hacking old accounts to catfish Philly 5’s. Same thing I guess. But that’s not even the point. I thought being a blogger was as low as you can get in America. Just a slight step up from homelessness but flights of stairs below the custodial arts. Gain weight, constantly get ridiculed, am a detriment to society. Can’t even look my parents in the eyes anymore without seeing the deep seeded sense of disappointment. College degree? Yeah, didn’t need it. $120K right down the shitter. So out of all the people in the world: athletes, movie stars, local celebrities, pretending to be a blogg- PART-TIME blogger? Don’t get it. Of all the names you can pick, why settle on
Jon Voight Smitty? But then again, maybe that’s the genius of it. If he were to pretend he was, Liam Neeson, nobody would believe him. Maybe this unknown asshat does deserve some respect in the end.
But if you’re gonna catfish with my identity, catfish the right way. Don’t ask to meet up a day after initiating the conversation. What’s the endgame in that? Have to string them along for months and at least attempt to get some money or a blindfolded bj before you lay the hammer. Perfect the art before you attempt to paint like Picasso.