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Danielle Herrington, Of Francis Fame, Is Now The Cover Model For SI Swimsuit

Obviously this is a tough one for me to write. We joke a lot about my brief romance with Danielle Herrington, but the truth is that the wounds are still fresh. I had to block her number and unfollow her on social media because seeing her every day was too hard, and I grew tired of screening her calls. She always had the same message: “stop calling me.” It’s like hey Danielle, do you really need to call me to tell me that? Get over it. Or text me. I’m busy with some single-leg Romanian deadlifts.

It’s been about a year since we dated. I’ve moved on with my life. I have a radio show now, I go on dates with other women who touch my leg the same way she did, and my Instagram is verified. In other words, I’m in a better place. Or so I thought. Turns out, I was lying to myself because this morning, I saw that Dani (that’s what I called her, even though she hated it/me) will be gracing the cover of this year’s Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. The moment I saw it, I threw up in my mouth. It tasted of regret: bitter, foolish, and horny.

I recovered from my initial shock to ask myself this reasonable question: am I responsible for Danielle getting the cover? Last year, she was an SI Swimsuit rookie. Nobody knew who she was. She had like 15k instagram followers. Then, she comes in and does the Saturday Sitdown (RIPIP) with me, we’re bf-gf for 24 hours, and the story explodes thanks to Dave in Houston. A year later, she has 60k IG followers and the cover of SI Swimsuit. You do the math. Nate may be the Kingmaker, but I make Queens.

To this day, I maintain that had Dave not blown me up, Danielle and I might have ended up together. I understand why he did it. Also the whole “don’t ask for phone numbers of women who come in to the office” thing. Either way, you can’t watch that Saturday Sitdown video and ignore the chemistry that Danielle and I had throughout. A true connection.

For a stroll down the boarded-up, dismal streets of my memory lane, here’s the whole story of how I came to be known as Barstool’s resident “psychopath.”

PS- remember when Glenny and Ria piled on and totally threw me under the bus? lol.