Last week, I learned that Tom Brady’s new girlfriend followed me on Instagram.I documented that rollercoaster here.
In trying to get her off my back, I blocked her.
Soon, I felt bad, so I decided to let her follow me again.
Didn’t think much of it.
Simply wanted to be the bigger person.
Almost made me block her again.
But as I gloated on Twitter, something smelled like fish.
Some even went so far as to suggest she was married to a different man!
Had I been duped?
Was I being played for clout?
I had to find out.
I spent the next seventeen hours scrolling through a few thousand pictures of her.
I’d never seen her face before.
And if the lies start there, where do they end?
The son of our Lord.
Henrik Lundqvist meets Prince Harry, without the “help me Oprah, my family hates me” petulance.
I don’t care if it tickles; I need to sit on that face.
I set aside my attraction to him and dug in.
Boy oh boy, was I surprised by what I found.
Guy is raining P’s all over his resume.
Cool, I dig that.
He also owns a restaurant in Vienna, Austria.
So I left an honest TripAdvisor review:
Of course, I immediately felt bad about leaving that review.
Viktor doesn’t want to hear that from me!
He’s probably still pissed over the TripAdvisor review from 10 minutes ago.
But then again… this is a real man.
Viktor eats meat off a big bone with his hands.
Viktor responds to big barks, to alpha behavior.
I needed to square my shoulders and make him respect me.
I circled back:
There, that should do the trick.
God, by now my head was spinning.
These people, man.
They use you up, feast on your bones, and move on to their next prey.
They are locusts, vultures, hyenas.
Better to just avoid them entirely.
Last try:
Then I blocked him:
And reported him for harassment.
Out of sight, out of mind.
It’s playoff time.
Tom needs to focus.
You’re welcome, TB.
