But yeah, enough with grandiosely stroking your ego by filming commercials where you show up in your muscle car loaded down with barely edible lard and horsesnout frisbees in cardboard boxes, walk into a party, insist everyone calls you “Big Papa,” and then go around throwing a football while everyone in the commercial asks like Wilt Chamberlain’s sainted penis just walked in the door. Don’t involve us in your sad old man fantasies, John Schnatter. We’re going to have plenty of our own: our failure to own a submarine brothel at this point, our pitiful lack of flying monkey assassins, the fact that we haven’t yet actually re-enacted the scene in the Simpsons when new gun owner Homer, wearing a sash reading “MAYOR,” spins his pistol on the veranda of a white-columned mansion while Marge does the twist in a bikini.
This guy just gets me.
By the way, if you enjoy this sort of thing, Kissing Suzy Kolber (Update 2018 October 5: Now, sadly, offline) has made taking sports-related personalities to their logical extremes something of an artform.