It was Sunday evening when I was lying in bed, laptop on my lap, in the middle of a 2,200-word preview of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. I wondered what was happening in the final round of the Masters, an event not worthy of my television, but big enough that I wanted to see what was happening with it on Twitter.
Oh look, I have a new direct message.
Only it wasn’t from a friend; it was a 30-person group DM chat started by “PIERRE” which featured a bunch of teenage girls, Edward Snowden, LSU football coach Les Miles, the American Red Cross, the New Yorker, Robert James Hamilton and yours truly.
This is something that happens sometimes. Usually, it’s spam. Someone grabs a bunch of random Twitter handles, sends them a group DM and it’s for porn or boner pills or how to make money working from home. But once in a while, it’s teens.
This room was filled with teens who had been chatting for a good five minutes before I got there. Things were lit. Things were on fleek. Someone was a petty hoe. Someone else was a scammer. It was all in a foreign teen language that a 38-year-old man with no kids could barely understand.
On these occasions, I tend to trash the message or flag it for spam. This time, I grabbed a photo from an Uproxx post about John Oliver’s Yankee Stadium ticket bit and dropped it into the conversation.
To me, that would be the end of it. Take that, teens! When I tweeted the screen shots, I figured people would get a laugh and we’d all move on with our Sundays.
But this was just the beginning of an educational and enlightening journey into the world of teens. It was lit. It was most definitely lit.
Some dumb back story: My Twitter name for the month is Davril Lavignezo because I’m making my name about the month the way people do for Halloween and Christmas, because I’m an idiot. Avril is French for April, so what you get is a dumb joke for 30 days whenever I tweet. I’m sorry.
This led to a conversation about the conspiracy theory that Avril Lavigne died a long time ago and she has been replaced by body doubles.