Does Everybody love him? Did everybody love him?
I did. For a good couple of months. I had no idea who he was until he hosted America's Favorite Quiz Show (I know it's my favorite!). Wait, what? A professional football star who's so smart he could host Jeopardy!? (!??!!!):
Be still my beating heart!
Alex Trebek was easy on the eyes; but now the show was proposing hiring this adorable, puppy-faced (actually, more equine faced; befitting a Sagittarius) stud to come into my living room five nights a week? Wait, who does he play for?
I MUST KNOW MORE!!!
So, I did a little research. He's the super-star quarter-back for The Green Bay Packers. He's from Chico, California. He's single. (But you already know all this...I didn't). Then he started his Jeopardy! hosting stint and he had me at: What is the first word that came out of his mouth? for $200. I don't know what was bedroomier...his bedroom eyes or his bedroom voice. It was all I could do to concentrate on the clues. I was sweating more than the contestants. And, wait, what? He's got a SENSE OF HUMOR too? I picked up the phone and called Jeopardy! "Make him the host right now!" He's more into mustache play than Alex was; oh, the possibilities!
He seemed too good to be true! Prescient words, it appears.
So, I wrote a couple of blogs. One was about some famous Sagittarians. In my newly smitten state, I included Aaron who is a December Sag. Then I wrote another blog wherein I created a sitcom from scratch. It's set in Green Bay, Wisconsin so naturally it would include the Packers. And naturally it would have to include Aaron, who, it seems to me, is a natural. Not just football player; but performer/actor etc. Athletes, for whatever reason, often are. I was even thinking about Aaron's episode for the show: Everybody Loves Aaron. In it, Aaron comes to the general store looking for a pair of snow-shoes. They have snow-shoes; but everyone is so enamored of Aaron, they keep finding ways to keep him in the store. The gay son, drops by and pretends to work there. He tells Aaron he needs to take his measurements for the snow-shoes. Something like this:
COLTON: Mr. Rodgers--
AARON: Call, me Aaron, please.
COLTON: (Aside) Can I call you 'tonight'?
COLTON: Aaron, I'm going to need your foot size for the snow-shoes...(he hoists up a Brannock Device, one of those clunky metal foot measuring apparatuses).
AARON: Sure. Size 14.
COLTON: Damn! (Drops the Brannock Device which clatters LOUDLY to the floor).
AARON: Excuse me?
COLTON: Oh, ah, Damn! I think we're out of size 14.
AARON: Could you check in the back?
COLTON: Of course.
AARON: Do you have those fitted snow-suits, like for skiing?
COLTON: No, but we can order one for you.
AARON: Cool! Do you have a tape measure?
COLTON: Ah, I think so...(he opens drawer and rummages, pulls out tape measure) For what?
AARON: My measurements; for the snow-suit. I want it really fitted, like James Bond!
COLTON: But I'm not a tailor...
AARON: But you can measure me. Let's see...we'll need inseam, out-seam, waist, chest, neck, thigh circumference, hips, shoulders, buttocks; pretty much everything.
COLTON: (Grabbing a pencil and jotting it all down) Head size?
AARON: Well, I want a hood, so, yeah. Do you have a dressing room?
AARON: So I can get undressed. You know, for the measuring!
COLTON: The pencil SNAPS in two.
AARON: (Removing pants) That's okay. I'm not shy...
But now these delightfully hilarious and ribald shenanigans can never happen Aaron. And I'll tell you why...
Well, first of all, this show doesn't currently exist, other than a script. Secondly, if it ever did get produced, you'd probably be retired from the Packers; so, it wouldn't make much sense, unless, you famously retired and stayed in Green Bay; which I highly doubt you would do. Also, you now have a bit of a credibility issue going on, since you admittedly misled a lot of people about your Covid vaccination status. And you only "kind of" apologized. You never said the words, "I'm sorry," or "I apologize." This has created mistrust between you and the people that look up to you. That includes me.
Aaron, you have every right to hold your opinions. You have every right to remain unvaccinated. However, you do have power. People listen to what you have to say because you are who you are. To quote someone else; with power comes responsibility.
I don't listen to The Pat McAfee or Joe Rogan shows. I don't know what their political viewpoints are. But from what I can sort of glean from my peripheral observations is that they both suffer from toxic masculinity (formerly known as "Macho Shitheadedness") I may be wrong. I've got to do a little research.
So, I did a little research. Very little. It only took me about fifteen seconds of "The Pat McAfee Show" to figure out he's a, and I hate to use this word, it's a little judgy; but fuck it, I was judged by enough jocks in my school days--douche. Yeah, seems like a total douche. And I could tell watching you, Aaron, watching him, that you felt the same way. I got the feeling you were "faux-broing." (Registered, TM, Copyright, Pat Pend, All Rights Reserved). Faux-broing is when a guy of superior intelligence and temperament pretends he's not because he's in the presence of macho shitheads, for whatever reason. It's a sort of intellectual slumming, I suppose.
I don't think I have to mince words, regarding Joe Rogan. He could be a poster boy for the typical Douche:
I overheard a conversation in a bar once. A gay guy was talking to his friend. I caught this snippet: "...I don't know," he said, shaking his head, "I just can't deal with blonde pubes right now..."
I'm losing track Aaron.
No, wait a second. About the term "douche bag." I'm a bit confused as to how it's come to mean, more or less, a particular type of male person. Loud, boastful, aggressive, self-involved, full of themselves, showy, obnoxious, misogynistic dude. Douche bag as an insult was first used to denigrate women. Which makes sense, since it's a device that women use; the implication being that the woman is a little "loose." Shouldn't the term, as applied to men, be "dick bag"? Or maybe, "ball bag"; since men come equipped with their own bags? Or maybe "enema bag" with it's implied reference to the asshole? Or maybe we could get away from bags altogether and come up with something else; how about "Alpha-Mess"? (Copyright, registered, TM, Pat Pend. All Rights Reserved in perpetuity, forever and ever Amen!).
Host Saturday Night Live. I mean, you certainly have not been cancelled by Cancel Culture. You're immune. You're a football hero. You are an All-American-NFL Superstar Quarterback. You can do whatever you want. Start developing TV shows! How about My 225-Lb. Life? Or Chillin' In Chico? Or Aaron R. The Science Czar!
Or what about a line of intimate sports gear? A collab with Calvin Klein underwear! Do you know what a killing you would make? (Also, did you know people will pay Big Money for used underthings? Well, they will. It's on Ebay. It's a thing...just sayin'). Which makes me wonder...people really would pay big bucks for any of your personal items. Do you ever worry about locker room thieves? Like, perhaps even your own teammates pilfering your pants or filching your flip-flops or lifting your loofah or jacking your jock?
Not to get off topic, again, but I couldn't help but wonder about your dirty under-things. Is it wrong to wonder about dirty under-things? Probably. But baby, if it's wrong, I don't wanna be right! So, seriously, sort of...what do you do with your worn socks, athletic support items (jock straps, cups et al. etc.) grass stained gaiters and so forth? Do you stuff them in a musty duffle bag and take them home and wash them yourself? Or do you leave them on the locker room floor or throw them in a hamper on wheels for some locker room flunky to take care of it for you? And how carefully vetted is that flunky? Do you know what locker room flunkies do with soiled items? Well, if gay porn is any indication, you don't wanna know. Or maybe you do. I don't know you like that.
So, anyways, Aaron...
I guess that's it. I will say though, that even though you're still in my metaphorical dog house, I still love you. I will find a way to get you on Cheeseheads, my imaginary sit-com. So, in the mean time, Sagittarius...just keep your opinions to yourself. And stop hanging out with Alpha-messes.
Anyways, I blame the NFL for the whole kerfuffle. They should simply mandate Covid vaccines for all employees and require proof of vaccination. Shit, if I had to prove I was vaccinated to go see Dear Evan Hansen, then you can do the same to go to the Super Bowl. Otherwise, our love's in Jeopardy!, baby.