John Mayer has songs called "3X5" and "83" but mine is called "24.95"
My brief and ill-fated stint on Nerve was prompted by one dude's profile, who we would later learn was named Jake Bronstein. But we'll get to that.
The abridged version: as many Nerve encounters begin, I'm fairly sure, I was in about a bottle or two of wine [with Thea], and decided to go check out the hotties to see if I could find anyone online who was more attractive than the myriad single studs at Columbia. first profile in, we see "dallas120"-- 6'2", dark, handsome, and posing with Flavor Flav (which is hilarious). As drunk as I am, I somehow find my credit card, pay $24.95, figure out the messaging function, and send the dude a message telling him it is hot that he has a photo with Flav. I may have also mentioned that he himself is hot, probably hears that he's hot often, and that he probably hears it often from drunk girls. Like me.
Maybe not the smoothest move ever. Looking back, if I received such a message, I probably would not message an obvious lush back either (or would I), although I would think the person was fabulous for noticing that they were in a photo with Flavor Flav and not some other random crackhead.
I was okay with having wasted my $24.95 until I was perusing curbed.com last week.
It was then that I saw a distinctly familiar photo of a dark haired man with Flavor Flav-- it was the same dude, in fact the same photo. And this was not just any random LES dude, I was to learn. Nope. No such luck. This dude was "Jake Bronstein" from Road Rules (c. 1996) and Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Battle of the Sexes.
Now I was in full "wtf" mode. Clearly I would not have spent $24.95 to message a para-celebrity. I waste my money in other, less productive and surely more intoxicating ways. And why is this dude on there? Clearly he can give as many hot beef injections to co-eds across the continental united states as he wants.
So, in summary, I send an open note to Jake Bronstein:
a) I want my $24.95 back and
b) you cannot be on Nerve; it is a disservice to the general (non-celebreality famous) public. I do not care that you are on their editorial board-- this is not Hair Club for Men: in order to be a profiteer from it, you don't have to be a member.
The abridged version: as many Nerve encounters begin, I'm fairly sure, I was in about a bottle or two of wine [with Thea], and decided to go check out the hotties to see if I could find anyone online who was more attractive than the myriad single studs at Columbia. first profile in, we see "dallas120"-- 6'2", dark, handsome, and posing with Flavor Flav (which is hilarious). As drunk as I am, I somehow find my credit card, pay $24.95, figure out the messaging function, and send the dude a message telling him it is hot that he has a photo with Flav. I may have also mentioned that he himself is hot, probably hears that he's hot often, and that he probably hears it often from drunk girls. Like me.
Maybe not the smoothest move ever. Looking back, if I received such a message, I probably would not message an obvious lush back either (or would I), although I would think the person was fabulous for noticing that they were in a photo with Flavor Flav and not some other random crackhead.
I was okay with having wasted my $24.95 until I was perusing curbed.com last week.
It was then that I saw a distinctly familiar photo of a dark haired man with Flavor Flav-- it was the same dude, in fact the same photo. And this was not just any random LES dude, I was to learn. Nope. No such luck. This dude was "Jake Bronstein" from Road Rules (c. 1996) and Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Battle of the Sexes.
Now I was in full "wtf" mode. Clearly I would not have spent $24.95 to message a para-celebrity. I waste my money in other, less productive and surely more intoxicating ways. And why is this dude on there? Clearly he can give as many hot beef injections to co-eds across the continental united states as he wants.
So, in summary, I send an open note to Jake Bronstein:
a) I want my $24.95 back and
b) you cannot be on Nerve; it is a disservice to the general (non-celebreality famous) public. I do not care that you are on their editorial board-- this is not Hair Club for Men: in order to be a profiteer from it, you don't have to be a member.