My Friends Fished Without Me And Now I Hate Them

When I woke up this morning it was 29 degrees in Chicago. My bedroom was literally freezing cold and it was 6:30 AM. Like any American my phone is my alarm clock, so I reached over to shut it off and while I was there, checked Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Texts, and Snapchat. And what did I see on Snapchat?

Those are friends and coworkers (ex-friends now of course) of mine Matt, Justin (LakeForkGuy), and Ross, all fishing on Lake Livingston in Texas before they go to The Bassmaster Classic. All fishing Lake Livingston in Texas without me. All people who, before this morning and the worst betrayal I could ever have imagined, I considered to be my friends. Huh. Little did I know.Once I saw these snaps and felt the obvious, intense pain of FOMO (fear of missing out), I decided to take the bull by the horns and respond passive aggressively to let them know I now hate them with all of my heart.

Calm, but to the point. "You people left me out, and you're now dead to me" was the subtext. Then, they hit me back with this message:

It's now warmed up to 34 degrees as I write this blog so I'm in a bit of better spirits, but WOW. Just WOW. Is there anything worse than watching your friends go fishing without you, especially while you slave away and keep the company afloat back at the office? Truly hurtful stuff here.Do I have to find new friends? Obviously. Do they have to be good at fishing so I can send my own snaps back to my old friends and make them jealous? YES. If interested in fishing with me, please send your best fishing snap to @mysterytacklebx on snapchat and so I can find myself new fishing partners.Also, I don't mean to be petty, but I hope they get skunked for the remainder of their trip and I wish the world's worst birdsnest upon them all. Catch a catfish you think is a huge bass, run out of gas on the boat, get a vicious sunburn, set the hook on a log and lose a whopper plopper. Not to be petty, though.