I switched to Substack
The hardest I’ve ever laughed in my life, without question, happened with my ear pressed up against a bathroom door.
If you use a different email for Substack, sign up here.
My college dorm was nicer than most. A brand spankin’ new building with only 15 or so people on each floor. Construction rushed to get it done weeks into my freshman year, so much so that the front desk was mistakenly built into the back of the building. Just the types of things that happened at our small school.
A useless back desk was certainly annoying for faculty, I’m sure. The lack of elevators and water fountains is worse in retrospect than it was in reality. It sucked for the first 1.5 years when anyone with a credit card could unlock any dorm just by sliding the card into the door frame.
But the #1 thing that made these brand spankin’ new dorms terrible?
The walls were paper thin.
I am not exaggerating.
I heard everything in the dorms.
Every conversation in every room within five numbers of mine.
Every time someone walked down the hall.
Every time Braxton played shitty music at 2AM.
Every time someone’s girlfriend visited for the weekend.
We loaded up our side of the floor with basketball guys — seven of us, all in one corner of the dorms. Together all the time. I learned way too much about them and I would guess they learned way too much about me.
It was simultaneously bullshit and bliss.
The SECOND worst thing about these brand spankin’ new dorms was the bathroom setup. Four single unit bathrooms with a toilet, sink and shower.
If all four were being used, you were literally shit outta luck.
I found myself in this situation my junior year. I had to go the bathroom. Braxton (a kid none of us knew or hung out with) was dropping a deuce in one of them. Another was occupied by a football player showering after practice. The third door was locked for no reason — that happened all the time.
And the fourth door?
The one literally right across from my room?
Occupied by one of my closest friends who happened to be using the bathroom.
Or so I thought.
My buddy, knowing that everyone on the floor could hear him and that someone (me) probably had to go, but couldn’t — locked himself in the bathroom and started screaming at the top of his lungs.
OUCH!!
IT WON’T COME OUT!!
AUGHHHH….
(several grunts)
GET OUT OF ME!!
I’m sorry to have told you such a stupid story to make this point, but it’s the best way I know how.
My brain has been spiraling with different thoughts around content, marketing, social media, my job, my journey, my new show… you name it.
I’ve just been sitting here with a voice screaming at me, at maximum volume…
“GET OUT OF ME!!”
So here I am. A fresh start on Substack, where I’ve moved my list over to. With lots of thoughts that I will get out of me.
Formats are the most important thing in content right now. I don’t have one for this yet. Maybe these 11:30PM Eastern Standard Time On A Sunday Night musings are it. We’ll see.
Let’s Forkin Go.
(Did you forget who I am? If so, I wrote what many are calling the greatest ABOUT page in the history of Substack. Click here to read it.)
P.S…
I turned on paid subscriptions to this newsletter but I firmly, no doubt, without question, have exactly ZERO clue what my plans are for it yet.
Right now, you can treat it like a I WANT TO SUPPORT TIM FORKIN button.
I have no expectations for you to do such a nice thing. There’s a wide gap in between the current state of LFG and a product worth paying for. But, like a true Gen Z capitalist, I won’t stop you from hitting the button.
Substack asks you to list the benefits that come with a paid subscription. Because there are none, I added a Michael Scott quote from The Office.
As always, thank you for being here.
Stud