There’s no denying it; the Dallas Cowboys suck. We’re one and four. That’s only a game ahead of the Buffalo Bills, for crying out loud. And since I’m the quarterback, that means I suck. How can I look you in the eye and claim otherwise? I’ve thrown seven interceptions in five games, and they weren’t all because off tipped balls or bad luck. I’m just crap. As you’d imagine, I’ve been getting a lot of flack for my performance, and rightfully so. I’m not exactly the most popular man in Dallas, and in some football gambling circles, I’m considered worse than Hitler (although in others, I’m practically royalty). But here’s the thing. I’m sorry I’ve been blowing goats this year, but there’s not much more I can say. And if that apology isn’t good enough for you, tough titty, my friends. At the end of the day, I banged Jessica Simpson, so your feelings and opinions are irrelevant.
“Boo Hoo, Tony Romo played a bad game and the Cowboys lost to the Vikings.” Get over it, dumbass. Your feelings on the matter are of no concern to me. While you’re down at the bar, bitching to your friends, or calling up some AM sports radio program to vent your frustrations, I’ll be at home masturbating to the thought of Jessica Simpsons perfect ta-tas. And while you might be able to go home and do the same, unlike you, I know they are perfect because I buried my face in-between them on countless occasions. Bitch all you want. Go ahead and try to tear me down? “You’re overrated!” “A retard could have avoided that interception to E.J Henderson!” “Your mom’s a Pollock whore.” I’ve heard it all before. It doesn’t phase me. It’s easy to drown out noise like that when you’ve heard the sound your hand makes when it’s slapping Jessica Simpson’s 27-year-old ass. “Jerry Jones is going to fire you.” Slap, Slap, Slap! I can’t hear you! Slap, slap, slap!
So old man Farve beat me! So friggen what? Back in 2008, while that old fossil was sending dick pics to Jenn Sterger, I was balls deep in Jessica Simpson! I win, not him! So Brett has a Superbowl ring! Nice. You know what I have? The memory of Jessica Simpson’s bouncing breasts rubbing up against my shower door. I think that’s better than jewelry. So Jerry Jones might fire me after this season. I’m so scared! If I lost this job, I guess I’d have to dip into that giant pile of hundred dollar bills I used to sleep on with Jessica Simpson.
Now, I already know what some of you are going to say. “Jessica Simpson is fat!” That’s true today, but it wasn’t back in 2007 and 2008, when all of these awesome memories were made. Besides, most of you people would still give your left nut to be with her, even though she resembles an overstuffed empanada with a blonde wig. So go ahead and keep telling yourself that. I hope it makes going home to your middle-aged wives that much easier. At then end of the day, I can throw an interception every play for the rest of the season, and I’d still be content with the life I’ve lead. Hell, I might walk backwards into my own end zone once a quarter just to piss you people off. You’ll bitch, and you’ll moan, and some of the things you complain about will be true! You might even get me fired. But when push comes to shove, unless your name is Tom Brady, you've got nothing on me! I’m a thousand times better than you! I banged Jessica Simpson and you didn’t.
