You Have No Idea How Close I Was To Quitting Barstool Yesterday
There is a moment in every man's life when opportunity comes knocking at your door. Opportunity so clear and undeniable that you would be a fool not to answer with a smile on your face and arms wide open. Opportunity that is not only life changing financially but also spiritually.
No I'm not trying to get you to sell Herbalife. I am talking about the opportunity to join the Illuminati. And yesterday that possibility was placed in front of me in the most unexpected way…via an Instagram DM.
Now one could be skeptical about this person who sent me the DM. I'm not sure I ever really thought about what an Illuminati recruiter might look like but if I had I know it wouldn't be a 20-something kid that looks like Lil Terio all gown up.
My suspicions were quickly dispelled when I saw he used words like "affluent", "wealth", and "fame." The man in the profile picture had a diamond encrusted chain that said "reloaded" and a video of him dancing in the club with Lil Uzi.
I'm sold. This guy is the real deal.
So I eagerly responded to his message as I did not want him to think I'm some coward destined for mediocrity and revoke the invitation.
The first thing I noticed was the copious amounts of spelling mistakes in his response. We are all fallible, even members of the Illuminati. Or Illuminate as he was now calling it. I had a feeling that he was so excited about my recruitment that he rushed through the membership pitch and fat-fingered some words.
Not to worry though, I wasn't going to let a few measly spelling errors get in the way of my fame and fortune. I immediately offered to murder my neighbor Steven as a tribute. I wanted to let this guy know I mean business.
Plus, Steven sucks.
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Rats. Steven has zero clue how close he came to being murdered. Well played, Steven. You live to see another day.
On one hand, I was pissed my shitty neighbor wouldn't be erased from the earth. On the other hand, I was happy I wouldn't have to risk going to jail. Sure, entry in to the illuminati should be a get out of jail free card, but I don't know how long the processing time is for membership. Even if I had to spend one night in jail waiting for my new politically connected cohorts to have me released, my fart box would be in grave danger. The Illuminati was already saving my ass, literally.
I thought maybe I came off a little strong with the whole "offering to kill my innocent neighbor" thing so I decided I should let him know how excited I was about the opportunity in a way every man loves and can relate to. Power Rankings…
Fuck yes! Friends with Jay-Z and Beyonce AND that piece of shit Steven is as good as dead? This whole Illuminati thing is everything it's cracked up to be and then some.
You may want to debate me on my power rankings (embrace debate!) but you would be wrong. Fame sucks and despite what TikTok wants you to believe, trying to become a celebrity and giving up your privacy and mental health is something everyone should avoid.
Steven at number 4 was an obvious one. He's the worst.
Then for 2 and 3, you should always choose power over wealth because when you have power you can make people be your friend. Fear is a great emotion for a lasting relationship to be built upon. Everyone laughs at Putin's jokes even when they aren't funny.
Plus, there are plenty of rich people who have no power or friends. Look at Elon Musk. Everyone thinks he's a weirdo and he bought a social media network to try and be cool and everyone still makes fun of him. Power > wealth every time.
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At this point he did not respond for nearly an hour and I feared that I had maybe overshared. I'm so stupid. Every time I bring up my exes grandpa or my OnlyFans addiction I push people away. Why can't I keep these thing to myself?!
Thankfully he eventually returned. Maybe he was just on his Illuminati lunch break eating a baby or something.
As you can see there was quite a bit of confusion while trying to get me connected to the grand master. The only thing I knew for sure was that my girlfriend had to go. No way I could let my new Illuminati friends see me with her. She would only mess up my game. After all I was about to be SWIMMING in pussy.
But the google chat thing wasn't the only problem. It also seemed he gave me the wrong email for the grand master.
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I was starting to think this would never come together. That the world was conspiring against me becoming rich, wealthy, famous, and no longer having to deal with Steven. I deserve lunch with Jay-Z without giving up $500k, damnit.
And then, just when I was about to give up, I received a google chat notification. It was James Wilfred, grand master of the Illuminati.
He did not want to talk about murdering Steven right now. I get it, the grand master is probably a very busy guy. By the way, he's so all-knowing he didn't even flinch at the fact I am using a completely different name now. This guy really is grand.
Mr. Wilfred is a no nonsense type of guy. You can tell by the fancy robe his wearing in his profile picture. The only people who wear robes are either judges or part of a secret society that practices human sacrifice. Both of those are very popular among the Illuminati I'm told.
My attempts to impress him with my early 2000's hip-hop knowledge fell on deaf ears. He was obviously more of a pop-punk guy. Since I'm from Cleveland like MGK, I totally get it.
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So no one told me there would be poors. Not that I would walk away from this opportunity because of that but I really don't want to stand next to a bunch of people who smell like SPAM and overdraft fees. Nonetheless, I powered through this disappointing news. There was an elite underground society to join and I wasn't going to let myself get distracted.
He then sent me a long questionnaire. You would think the Illuminati would know how to whip up a proper Google form. After all, they were pushing the Google Charts on me like a crack dealer earlier. But whatever, if my destiny has decided that I must manually type answers to a questionnaire like we're back on Myspace then thats what my destiny has decided.
FUCK! This bitch is going to ruin this whole thing for me. And I will not have a repeat of Al's. The god damn movie franchise was out when you were a teenager, how can you not know it was Jennifer Love Hewitt?!
At this point I was sweating and pacing around my office. All my dreams down the drain. No power lunches with Jay-Z and Paul Rosenberg. No $200k Lamborghini to show off on my TikTok and tell everyone how poorly they are managing their money. And worst of all, Steven wasn't going to be murdered. I'm never going to be able to sleep in on Saturday.
To my surprise Mr. Wilfred came back after a few minutes. I thanked him and also let him know the trivia answer. I don't think he knew it.
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The application was submitted and it was now out of my hands. Was I worthy of Illuminati-ship? Would I soon be sacrificing babies and participating in rich orgies where the only acceptable clothing was long flowing robes? The suspense was killing me. I needed to know.
And then I got my answer.
Just like that the dream was gone.
Back to being a regular Joe. Back to waking up with my stupid girlfriend and shitty neighbor. Back to blogging.