The TRUTH Behind A Day In The Life Of Dave Portnoy
Digiday wrote a fluff piece about the daily routine of our Dave Portnoy. I had a far more honest conversation with him though…
I wake up and check social media. I typically receive about 300 DMs from girls just while I’m asleep. I had a tech guy install a bot that automatically deletes anyone older than 20. He used to work for the C.I.A. I think his name is shmopkaloofer. Or poopskidoopski maybe. I just call him Stan because he’s from a country that ends that way, I think.
I listen to music on the way to work. I have a 6,000,000-song playlist. I call it “Wrecking Ball.” When I first got Spotify, I didn’t understand how it worked. I thought you had to put a song on a playlist in order to hear it. Playlist? Sure, let’s play the list. But it turns out you can just play songs; they don’t have to be on a list. But once you start changing your routine, your whole life can fall apart. So I keep doing it my way.
I don’t eat breakfast. That’s how they get you. I once dreamed that the dairy farmers of America are Holocaust deniers. I consider myself a Holocaust denier-denier: I deny their right to deny the Holocaust. It sounds a little clunky—”Holocaust denier denier”—but it sounds a lot better than “Holocaust supporter.” That sounds like you want another one, which is bananaland. I don’t think anyone wants another one, except maybe the dairy farmers. That’s why I don’t eat breakfast.
I drink a ton of coffee. I have an immunity to it. But I still drink it out of loyalty. Tommy brings it to me on a loop like monkey. Four or five venti Starbucks coffees a day, sitting on my desk, fogging up the windows. If he misses his drop, he doesn’t get his grape. But given that caffeine is useless to me, I take adderall recreationally. I have a guy—Steve. He knows a guy. Well, a kid—he knows a kid. I should add that he’s also a kid. It’s good to know a couple kids. They always have the addy hookup from some spaz with a scrip.
My schedule is really important. If it’s in blue, I have to do it. That means it’s official. Unless I don’t want to do it, in which case, go fuck yourself. Put another way, the schedule is completely pointless.
Around noon, I go eat pizza. We have to drive for hours now. I deeply regret the promise I made to try every pizza place in New York. Had I known how many there are, I would have tried the nearest 20 slices.
People like it when I’m upset about something. I encourage people to get upset. My dream is that two of my employees will actually stab each other to death live on radio. That’s when I’ll know we’ve made it.
My radio show is 4-6PM, Monday-Friday. But sometimes Steve’s hookup doesn’t come through and I’m tired by 5:30 on a Friday, so I say “peace, I’m out.” These little sayings keep me young.
Sometimes the employees want to talk to me. But we have nothing in common so I try to avoid these conversations at all costs. I make sure my headphones are in before I walk out of my office, for the same reason that young women wear their headphones on the subway. I don’t want to be harassed by a bunch of homeless bums who want a piece of my ass. We actually have a number of homeless people that work here. I have a history of hiring homeless people. Always been good to them. They’re cheap as hell but it can be tough to make them work. I should probably fire some by now. But I honestly don’t know where else they’d go. It’s probably easier to let them continue inflating air mattresses and sleeping at the office with the rats.
Basically, I never get rid of anything. Songs, people, furniture, gifts, grudges… you name it, I found space for it. You never know what things will increase in value. Back when I was driving the van around, I used to see discarded furniture, air conditioning units, or printers on the side of the road. I’d pull over and drop it off in a storage unit after work. We used all that stuff in the Milton office.
When I get home, I watch sports and gamble until I get a fraud alert. I order oats in a wooden bowl from the same place every night. I used to eat raw tuna for four years straight but my hair started falling out for some reason. Eventually I get in bed and use my knees to create a tent with my comforter. Then I go on social media for hours.
I’m not sure why I’m so tired.