(Okay, I know break ups are usually done by shine over at Shine Out Loud. However, I want to break up with someone, and I feel like this blog is the best way to do it.)
Listen. I love you. I just want to start this thing out that way. I really do. You mean the world to me, mostly because you play for the Cowboys, and that means a lot. I know it’s not an easy team to play for, what with the glorious past, all the Super Bowls and what not. Being compared to the likes of Staubach and Aikman can’t be fun for you. You’ve really tried to step up and fill the gap, and I’m so proud of you for that.
This is where it gets tough, Tony, it really gets tough.
I hate you. You’re such a douche. An inconsiderate douche at that. You walk around with your hat on backwards all the time like some spoiled little gangsta wanna be. And that smile. Tony, I hate that smile. You use it at all the wrong times. Like the other night, when you had Roy Williams stretched out to catch that pass, and almost got him killed, we looked back at you, and there you were, just smiling. Like a doucher. A world class doucher.
You don’t even try anymore. And when you DO actually try, it’s always when there is under a minute left and you’re down by at least a touchdown. If only you’d have shown some of this effort before, Tony. Things might be different. I’m sick and tired of being on pins and needles the whole game, wondering if and when you’ll throw that amazing pass that will make me love you again. Like the old days. Before you hurt your thumb. Before Jessica Simpson. That was cool, Tony, but still. It’s Jessica Simpson. She’s like a blow up doll with a really big set of lungs that can sometimes sing good. Seriously. How did you do that? I know how. Cause you’re a doucher. A world class doucher.
So here’s the thing. I’m breaking up with you. I just can’t stand it anymore, Tony. The ups and downs, the highs and lows. It’s too much for me. I’m fat. I’ve got high blood. My poor heart is probably weakening as we speak. I need a constant for at least one season. I need an Aikman. I need a…Manning. I’m so sorry, Tony. I’m sorry I had to say that. But it needed to be said. When a Manning does bad, they don’t walk over to the sideline with a grin and put their hat on BACKWARDS just right. Like a doucher. A world class doucher.
I know that it’s my fault in a way. I picked you for my fantasy team, and I know this is part of what’s causing you to be horrible. I mean, the Steeler defense was as solid as a Mack truck, and I picked them, and now they can be split apart like my willpower in the face of a Mexican food establishment. But still. Most of it is you. It has been for a few seasons now. And I can’t take it anymore. We’re through. Why? I didn’t think I’d need to say it again. Because you’re a doucher. A world class doucher.
My buddy Kid Funk made this poster the other day, and I think it adequately describes the situation. In closing, I’ll leave you with it, and my mantra from here on out.
Cowboys fans for a Manning in 2010.
Sorry Tony, it’s not me, it’s you.