Taken from: http://www.ubersite.com/m/85472
"Maybe it's because it's NCAA Tournament season.
Most of the year, I can push the enigma that is you to the back of my mind with the other unsettling mysteries that have no answer, like "what makes Chick-Fil-A taste so good?", or "why did my ex-girlfriend leave me for that guy with a job?"
But during this month, you are omnipresent. Pointing at the cameras and yelling at me when the station bumps to commercial breaks, creeping me out with your genuine enthusiasm and tight-fitting monochromatic cheer-suit.
I just don't understand you, Male Cheerleader. What motivates you? Why are you doing this? Tell me! Whatever the reason, it can not be worth the cost.
Stop clapping! Stop it! Dismantle that Queeramid immediately! Stop hollering at me through your Meg-Gay-phone. Don't berate me and tell me that I "can be louder than that". Maybe I don't want to be any louder than that. Or maybe I'm just too disgusted with your poor life decisions to be any louder than that.
And the worst part is, you're strong! Way stronger than me. Many of you guys are the size of horses. You're all ripped up, but for what? Put a fucking helmet on, you weirdo, and get on the offensive line.
Is it for the girls? You can not possibly crave female interaction this badly. How desperate are you to cop a feel of an inner thigh? Aren't you aware of any other methods of trying to pick up girls? More accepted and respectable means, like accosting them after ingesting far too much alcohol, or good old-fashioned kidnapping?
Your remarkable flexibility repulses me.
And your father. Your poor father. Imagine what you're doing to him!That man has to go to work somewhere every day. He has to hear about Tom's kid who plays hockey at Bowling Green and Rick's son who's going to be an electrician. Even Larry's son who's in jail for running a bingo charity scam garners more respect around the mill than you do.
"Hey dad! I've got some really exciting news! You know how you were worried about me adjusting well to college life? Remember how you said that you thought that I lacked the social skills and personality to meet new people and attract women? Well would you like some salt with that crow? Because guess who just joined a pretty prestigious campus organization that ensures his exposure to hot chicks on a daily basis? No, Mr. Wisenhimer, I'm not manning the rape hotline. I joined an athletic squad! You know, a sport!"
"No, not the flag football team. That's for wimps. No, not intramural basketball. That's not my game. Okay, this is getting us nowhere. I'm just going to tell you..."
"I'm a Cheerleader dad! A Male Cheerleader! We did it!"
"Let's call Uncle Dan and Uncle Jim and tell them!"
"Wait, where are you going? Oh. To the bar. Of course! This is a time for celebration! I'll come with you!"
"Wait, dad, your passenger door is locked. I can't get in the car. Why are you pulling away!? Okay, cool! I'll just follow you in my Tracker then!"
"Well, here we are at your favorite bar. Boy, you were driving fast; I almost lost you there a few times. You should really be more careful dad, I could have gotten into an accident and injured my cheering arms. How could I have rallied our various sports teams on to victory then?"
"Hey all my dad's bar friends! Me and my dad are here! I'm his son, the Male Cheerleader! You guys should totally come and watch me cheer some time! My coach Nancy, says I'm a natural-born tumbler and that my handsprings are second to none! And this is my dad! Yay!"
I'd imagine it went something like that.
There's still time buddy. Just do us all a favor and stop right now. And if you absolutely have to express your weird-ass school spirit, at least be a mascot. That way, you can still get your twisted kicks while at the same time offering your family the benefit of your anonymity. Everybody wins.
And knock it off with the sparkle hands. That's just fucking creepy. "