I've always despised Jerry Jones, the Cowboys franchise and pretty much the entire state of Texas. Everything's Bigger in Texas... I know a female bartender who always wears a t-shirt with that slogan. Of course, it has a generous cut down the center in order to display her ample, ginormous fake boobs. Well done. You have really captured our inspiration and imagination. Just as all women with fake tits. You really add something special to the national discourse!
But it's really about Jerry Jones, that arrogant botoxed piece of shit. I just can't stand him. So despite the pain I endured with a tough Steelers loss, I can at least take comfort and solace knowing that Jerry Jones will always be viewed as an abject failure and an abysmal arrogant asinine asshole. Say that 10 times fast.
So is Jerry Jones a giant douche or a turd sandwich? The fiery debate has just begun. Let's start from the beginning. The most pressing issue seemed to be his attempt to break the 1980 Super Bowl attendance record (103,985) from the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. So I did a little research.
88,060 people purchased actual tickets to the game. But Jerry needed to break that record so he could brag to all his closest friends. Hmmm, what to do. Where to begin?
Well, let's start by counting an additional 12,159 people inside the stadium. The vast majority of which are paid workers. Yep that would include the media, the writers and all the video technicians. And don't forget the concession people. That guy basting the beef brisket, the mullet-dude selling $10.00 warm Bud Lights and the dim-witted 300 lb. woman with the cotton candy stand. Let's count them too. What about Slash and all those futuristic half time dancers? Yep you guessed it... they count as well.
But wait, my name is Jerry Jones and I played a bit part on last season's Entourage. I still need more bodies. Hey, I have a bold, innovative idea. I'll sell tickets to another 3,000 people at $200 a pop. These wannabe fans will have the privilege to sit outside in the cold and watch the game on an outdoor monitor. After they pay $100 to park, that's a great deal. They'll be grateful just knowing they are standing on hallowed, sacred ground - in this case, a 1/2 acre slab of cement surrounded by a barbed wire steel fence that would by the envy of Dusty Rhodes, the mammoth-titted pro wrestling icon. His forehead resembles a topographical map of central West Virginia.
Then it all came crashing down. 1,250 people had tickets. But the seats did not exist. Well, that's not entirely true. You could see the empty section of seats in peanut heaven. Still though, Jerry needed to break that attendance record but alas, the seats weren't properly bolted down. So the fire marshall had to close off the entire section. You can't really fault Jerry on this one. I seriously doubt he has ventured up into the rafters to hang with the commoners. That would technically be both above him and beneath him. Think about it. So 400 people were forcibly ejected from the stadium and sent to outdoor "hospitality" tents. Wow, what an honor! I get to hang out where the B-grade celebrities were just kickin' it a few hours ago. The bass player from the Bangles, Oprah's newly discovered half-sister, Hosni Mubarak's third wife... this will surely make up for it. I'll get to watch the Super Bowl on a partially obstructed internet feed. Thanks JJ. Now for you other 850 ticket holders without seats, do not fret. We'll let you freely wander the concourses. Hell, maybe some could sit on some over sized Texas laps.
Maybe Jerry could have let some of the "undesirables from Wisconsin and Pennsylvania" into his spacious owners box. Well, he couldn't do that because of security concerns. He was partying down with some of his closest friends. Like Carlos Slim Helu - the wealthiest man on the planet. With a net worth of about 60 billion, Carlos is a telecommunications mogul from Mexico City. I'm sure he really knows how to party. Or what about the other billionaires in the box - die hard football fans Warren Buffett and Ross Perot. Ross Perot could have made one of those infamous charts to further explain the attendance discrepancies. I'm sure it's like a high school reunion in there. Don't forget about former President and my personal hero, George W. Bush. I wonder if Jerry felt overshadowed. After all, he's only worth a measly 2 billion.
So Jerry's masterpiece plan to break the attendance record came up 766 people short. What a bummer. He doesn't get to tell his grandchildren about the time their grandpappy broke the world's record. Jerry, here's what you should have done. It's simple. Sell and extra 50,000 tickets to the game. But in the fine print on the back, it will say, "This ticket is a fugazi. You are not a real playa, but you will be granted temporary access in order to help us achieve our rightful place in the record books. Consider yourself fortunate. Also, this ticket entitles you to a free medium sized coke at any participating Guzzle'n'Gulp in the greater metro Dallas and Fort Worth area. Some restrictions apply.
I'm surprised Jerry didn't administer pregnancy tests to all women that walked through the turn styles. He's just so full of nifty ideas... ya see, maybe if they're pregnant, that will count for two. Twins means it's a three-banger! Jerry just bought off some judge who ruled that every zygote is a human life in the great state of Texas. As if that question were ever up for debate.
As I'm writing this blog, there's a Maury Povich paternity test episode on in the background. A black woman named "Pancake" is trying to establish that her ex-pimp is her baby daddy. Maury is saying "Pancake" as many times is as humanly possible. Predictable fodder from another man who invokes the same question - Maury Povich? A giant douche or a turd sandwich?
But for me, it wasn't just about the attendance fiasco. I also enjoyed all the flight disruptions and cancellations. And I was titillated by all the restaurants with empty tables. I've seen this pain before w/ Artie Buco's restaurant Vesuvio. I'm perplexed it's never illustrated by our own fine dining establishment, T.J. Pukegarden. Why do people eat at TJ's? I know some who even embrace going there. It's fucking bizarre. The people from out of town who stay at the Hampton Inn - well... they just don't know any better. You can't really assess blame there. You just pity them and move on. But accusations of demonstrating horrific judgment aren't really applicable because it's all involuntary.
Anyway, how about the giant chunks of ice that fell from the stadium roof? Jerry can take comfort knowing that nobody important was hurt. None of his celebrity friends were affected. An outdoor beer tent was crushed and 6 people sustained injuries, 1 of them critical. I wonder if Jerry included these 6 outdoor workers in the attendance figures. What about the ambulance driver? Yep. What about all the illegal immigrant workers who spread rock salt everywhere?
And what about Christina Aguilera fucking up the national anthem? When they introduced her, I thought they said "Christina Applegate." I kept wondering why she looked so much different. I figured out who it was about 2/3 of the way through.
And that Black Eyed Peas halftime show was pretty weak. "Sweet Child O Mine" with special guest Slash caused a spontaneous bile ascension through my esophagus. At least Axl didn't check in for some of those robotic, synchronized moves. He could have gotten all 3 of the eyed peas to do that famous swaying move. Maybe he could even put a confederate bandanna on the black singer's head. I think his name is "Will I Am." I used to think that song was called "Bumblebee," but found out he's really saying "I'm a Be."
And how about all those zany Pre-Superbowl celebrity parties? All those celebs with visions of self-aggrandizement were shit out of luck. Tons of no shows all round town. Even Prince had a concert in Dallas the night before that got canceled. The promoters just fucked everything up and Prince never even made the flight.
And the commercials... nothing really stood out. It seemed like you were watching them from a distance. Almost like you were doing test market research but not paying attention. They all had this surreal, analytical feel.
And my own party was kind of sullen affair. The energy level just never picked up. I've seen more commotion at an orthodox bris (circumcision). For all these things, I lay the blame squarely at the feet (or in this case, cowboy boots) of Jerry Jones. Jerry Jones - everything about you sickens me. You know, everything really is bigger in Texas. Jerry Jones... you are both a bigger giant douche and a bigger turd sandwich.
At least I got to finally shave off this Steelers playoff beard. Took about 8-10 years off my appearance. This one started on December 20, 2010 the day after we lost to the Jets but sneaked into the playoffs anyway. Good riddance. I feel young again.