Money Maker Shakedown?

This sort of grueling work is what these buncha Susan B. Anthony's want to get paid for. There's worse ways to earn money on your knees...

This sort of grueling work is what these buncha Susan B. Anthony’s want to get paid for. There’s worse ways to earn money on your knees.

 

If there’s one activity on earth more ludicrously masquerading as an actual sport than cheerleading—other than Gascar of course—mankind hasn’t invented it yet.  The best evidence for this has always been the startling difference between the amateur and pro “game.”  Pop Warner chicks perform more elaborate, dangerous, and dare I say athletic routines than they’re professional counterparts.  Pros don’t even do a goddamn cartwheel.  NFL pop pom shakers essentially just jump around and remain completely unnoticed by anyone until the obligatory close-up shot of one of the bimbos as the game goes to commercial.  Other than that they’re utterly useless.

Until now.  Now they’re useless and annoying.

The love child of Malcom X and Angela Davis, Bryant Gumbel, took off his dashiki and removed his black fist afro pick long enough to bring the idiotic world of NFL cheerleading some much unnecessary attention on Real Sports.  Apparently, a league that treats their male employees so fantastically by shoving them into a human meat grinder to incur life-long brain damage while they rake in the cash has struck a blow for feminism by treating females like shit too.

So why not sue somebody?  Gigantic misshapen dyke lawyer Fatso McGee has spent countless hours at the buffet building her case, as well as sandwiches of staggering proportions.  Evidently she’s been salivating over more than just fried foods lately, but licking her chops at representing hot broads as well.  With her powdered sugar-covered hands, she points out the Raiders for example spent $130 million dollars on their players’ salaries last season, while their cheerleaders—The Black Holes—made only $125 a game.  Broken down, cheerleading wages equal about $2 an hour, which is approximately $1.99 too much.

Can you believe the beauty contestant logic from these delusional airheads?  Comparing the players’ worth to the cheerleaders is akin to comparing the Hope Diamond’s worth to a steaming turd.  One girl said that she’d be better off financially by serving beer in the stands than by cheering on the field…only except then she would have to do actual work.  Instead, she’s like the Rosa Parks of shaking her ass.

The other two broads in the story were cheerleaders for the Buffalo Bills, and man if you’ve ever wondered why you don’t hear about the Bills cheerleaders mentioned in the same breath with the hottest squads in the NFL, then you won’t anymore after watching this.  They look like strippers that get forced to work the day shift.  But mediocre looks aside, it was these two trailer park beauties that explained the extensive handbook they were forced to observe.  Their main objection (especially, and unsurprisingly, by the dumpier of the two) was the so-called “jiggle test,” wherein girls do a couple jumping jacks to see what jiggles, because they found it demeaning.  How is that significantly more demeaning than any other aspect of their one-step-above-stripper jobs?  They’re fuckin cheerleaders for chrissake, and they wanna be treated like they’re Hillary Clinton.

One of the more bizarre rules was the item regarding tampon usage and the pH balance of the young ladies’ vaginal canals.  When the reporter tracked down the coach of the Bills cheerleading team to ask her about these bizarre requests, she proved a wise and articulate spokesman when she remarked, “Hey, you try doing jumping jacks all day and we’ll see how much your cunt reeks.”

Sitting up to her waist in a bathtub of gravy, lesbo lawyer Ms. McGee summed up her case and the upcoming legal proceedings when she questioned the league’s compassion for women, stating, “Clearly they’re not important to the NFL.”

Exactly.  Women are just as important to the NFL as men are to the tampon industry.  Now that we’ve got that settled, here’s your pom poms back toots, now go swing your tits around.

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