Your Boy Took An Unfortunate Situation, Getting Trolled By The Two Idiots On KFC Radio, And Turned It Into Landing A Date With The Beautiful Paige Spiranac.
There's a great line in a great movie, Silver Linings Playbook where Bradley Cooper's character Pat says, "You have to do everything you can, you have to work your hardest, and if you do, if you stay positive, you have a shot at a silver lining."
The first time I saw the movie I expected it to be just another dumb romantic comedy but I figured at least Jennifer Lawrence and Robert DeNiro were in it so it couldn't have been all that bad. I ended up loving it and took away some pretty good tidbits from it, like the above quote.
It doesn't take a genius to tell you life can be a pretty good kick in the balls. All too often. And once you've fallen to the ground, it seems like the beating has just begun. It's far too easy to cave, or throw up the white flag, admit defeat and effectively give up. We see these people all the time, and without communicating a word, the expression on their face says it all. And it's heartbreaking. Truly. The world is a mean fucking place. Like Pat said in the movie, it's critical to stay positive and keep getting up when you get knocked down. Because that's the only way you have a shot at finding a silver lining in things.
Please allow my long-winded prelude to introduce you to today's events.
Enter, the two of the three biggest haters in the company. John Henry Feitelberg and Kevin Clancy.
Now full disclosure, John was blowing me up yesterday afternoon. I was on a flight back to Chicago and he was calling me- something he never ever does. And texting me to come on KFC Radio. I started to get agida because the only reason him and Kevin ever want me to come on the show is so they can make fun of me or get me riled up. I usually always oblige because it turns into a longer discussion that I think we all end up enjoying and their plan backfires but this time I got nervous because when I asked John what it as about, he wouldn't tell me and only said, he "needed to get my thought process on something."
Fuck.
I began racking my brain for what I could have possibly said or did recently that he could be referring to. Honestly, I say and do so much shit every day that I think is totally normal that I'm beginning to realize people think is fucking nuts that I couldn't determine one particular thing it could be.
My plane landed and we got stuck on the tarmac (which is par for the course for O'Hare). Time continued to stretch and then Kevin texted me, "yo can you hop on?"
This had to be serious, I thought as I got racked with even more anxiety, (and "My Cherie Amor" began playing in my head... )
As fate would have it, I forgot I had a Level 10 meeting (shout out EOS) for a new concept we're opening out in San Diego and I got dragged into that. No KFC Radio for me.
But did that stop the terrible twins from talking shit about your boy? No sir. They did what they did best and hurled boulders at me from high atop their glass palace. Giggling like schoolgirls all the while.
This wall all unbeknownst to me of course. When I got home later I sent them each an apology explaining what happened, half expecting them to say "no worries, let's do it tomorrow" or something of the sort. Fully expecting at least a response. I got neither. From neither of them. Only silence.
Fast forward to this afternoon and this tweet pops up on my timeline.
“That’s the thirstiest tweet of all time”
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I read the text before I clicked play on the video and thought to myself, "fuck, what could I possibly have sent to deserve that title?" As far as I knew I hadn't been hacked by Ray Allen lately, and Stu Feiner doesn't even know I exist, so what the fuck could it have been?
Turns out it was in response to this siren's call of a tweet, I just so happened upon, when returning home from a long night at work, and pulling up social media at 3 in the morning.
To which I responded
Now listen. Flame me all you want. Am I weak? Extremely. Does this make me, as the kids call it, "a simp"? Absolutely. Do I care? Not one iota.
If being hypnotized by the enchantress Paige Spiranac is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the key baby. Because I don't want to be right.
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Here were these two laughing their asses off, pointing out a moment of weakness for me, to the dozens and dozens who listen to KFC Radio.
What happened next I can only attribute to the grace of God, and/or having the biggest horseshoe up my ass that there's ever been.
I got an alert that @PaigeSpiranac began following me, followed by this.
(Disclaimer, Paige's site sells itself. There's nothing I could say or do or promise that's gonna beat you just clicking on it and seeing for yourself.)
Now this is where the entire game changed, and it was time to think. And think positively. How could I turn a shit sandwich into sirloin? Lemons into lemonade?
There's another awesome scene in the movie where Robert DeNiro, who plays Pat's father, grabs him and tells him to pay attention to signs. “When life reaches out with a moment like this, it's a sin if you don't reach back.”
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This was most likely the first and last time Paige was ever going to appear in my mentions on twitter, and if she took 2 minutes to scroll down my timeline and read my tweets she was probably unfollowing me at that very moment, so I let it fly.
A gentlemanly proposal to come to visit Chicago, kick my ass in a round on our golf simulator (and then take her to a nice dinner, watch the fireworks over the lake, and get some much-needed advice on my short game.)
Boom.
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As much as I want to be mad at Kevin and John I think I actually might owe them a thank you now? As fucked up as that is?
Plans are being made, Paige is still playing hard to get but it's only been a couple hours and I can tell I'm starting to wear her down. She's planning on heading out here in June or July. I'll keep everybody posted.
p.s. - now onto a more pressing matter. First off, sign up for Paige's site. Secondly, who do we think the sick fuck was that sent (my future gf) Paige a disgusting message?
Sometimes I really wish we still had those og Barstool ratings things with the stars we could post to vote on so that I could list all the culprits above and let the commenters decide. This is one of those times. My money is on Neil. That guy was a hornball and a half.
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