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A recent participant in the Denver Broncos cheerleading tryouts:

There are a number of reasons why I’m not a cheerleader. Principal among them is that I’m an ugly tub of lard. So why wasn’t that reason good enough to keep this horrific fatty at home on the couch with a box of doughnuts?

Now, I’m all up for a goof. It’s funny that Sanjaya Malakar is still on American Idol; that there’s an active effort to keep that kid on the show, butchering songs, is a great laugh; that it is so widly successful is even better.

A quick aside on Malakar: Since pop music sucks and American Idol produces the B talent in that awful genre, anything that makes American Idol interesting or, better yet, expedites its demise, is welcome. Malakar is doing both at once, which clearly makes him the greatest contestant of all time.

The best part of Malakar’s sustained run is that people actually treat it like it matters. Not only that, they bemoan the idea that someone might want to sabotage American Idol’s voting process, when the entire effect of public voting, from Day 1, was to marginalize “judges” Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul to little more than commentary.

But the absolute best thing about it is the Associated Press’s ham-fisted attempt to explain why Malakar has stuck around. Their theory: pre-teen girls think he’s cute. That’s amusing. The truth: Howard Stern and all the other efforts pushing to ruin that awful show. Yet more proof that the press does, indeed, make up facts to support their premises and make up stories to push agendas.

Anyway, back to the ugly beast pictured above.

It’s not funny, if you’re fat and ugly, to try out for the Denver Broncos cheerleading squad. It’s pathetic.

That the Broncos allowed her to go through any part of the process probably has everything to do with wanting to keep a positive face on the organization, which is sad. They ought to be able to tell hideous beasts, right at the door, “turn around, leave or we’ll get the tranquilizer gun,” and not suffer any ill will for it.

We don’t hire sumo wrestlers as horse jockeys; for the same reasons, the Broncos shouldn’t have let Fatty Boombalati into their facility.

The Broncos know she won’t be hired. She knows she won’t be hired; or, if she doesn’t know that, she needs professional mental health care. Even if she has terminal cancer and her dying wish is to try out for the Broncos cheerleaders, the answer should have been, “Hell, no, you’re disgusting and you’ll just embarrass yourself.”

Of course, America has become a place where you get a trophy just for playing elementary-school soccer, so I guess it’s not surprising the Broncos didn’t laugh her out of the room. But seriously, they should have protected this sad woman from herself.

Which brings us to the second sad, pathetic person at the Broncos cheerleader tryouts:

The ugly guy in the back wasn’t trying out. His name is James Trieb and he paid $1,750 to be a “guest judge” at the tryouts. And a fat lot of good dropping that coin did him.

Notice that not a single one of these girls is even looking at him. They’re looking at each other, at the photographer, at other photographers, in every single direction except Trieb’s.

It’s so bad, they don’t even want to make physical contact with Trieb; there’s at least six inches of air separating him from the nearest breast.

Now, some guys simply lack any game whatsoever with women; even the kindest, most naive girl won’t warm to them. It may well be that Trieb is one of those men. But no matter how bad things are for you when it comes to the ladies, and no matter how into cheerleaders you may be, how you justify spending $1,750 to judge the tryouts is beyond me.

Trieb would have been better served spending that money on a decent haircut, new glasses and a nicer suit; that alone would significantly increase the chances that attractive women don’t look, and move, away from him.

Or, more practically, he could have spent that money in any of Denver’s multitude of strip clubs and gotten girls to dress up as cheerleaders in the champagne room. That, too, would have gone considerably better than this photograph did.

Whatever. The world is full of men who throw money at pretty women for nothing (witness Hooters) and who cannot understand that for whatever reasons pretty girls date “jerks,” clearly, what “nice guys” are doing doesn’t work; so, maybe, if you want to hang with hot girls, you should be a jerk.