I have a headache. My bun is pulled so tight my eyes hurt. My pencil skirt has cut off all circulation to the stomach region. And, I can’t see because I’m wearing horn rimmed glasses that aren’t mine. The only thing that makes me feel better is slapping this ruler on the desk so hard that even you can hear it.

Ssssmack! Ahh. Ok now, let’s begin.

Martellus Bennett, I said Let’s BEGIN. Turn off that music. (Let me take a moment for a dramatic sigh). Well, we might as well start with you. Martellus, you’re lazy. You already know that but what really bugs me is that your laziness is so permeating. I know you’re too lazy to look that word up. Let me explain. It’s in everything you do. Turn your attention to the overhead projector. This is video of you picking up your helmet after it fell off. You’re even lazy doing that. You’ve got no pick up, young man. Change. NOW. Get up here and give me your wrist. … Move! I don’t have all day…See what I mean. Ssssmack!

Moving on. Wade Phillips. You’ve been getting angry lately. I like it! You’re not Mrs. Doubtfire any longer. No, sir! But, you’re still not getting a gold star today because you’re stupid. Yes, you heard me. Why? Hmmm, we’re up 24 to 0 but let’s continue to use our precious QB and RBs and risk injury right before the playoffs. Turn to the projector. That’s Romo getting hit late. That’s Romo getting hit again. Give me your wrist. What’s that? Uh, sorry, no ‘Aw Shucks’ shtick is going to work on me! Wrist. Now! Ssssmack!

Tom Celek. Where are you? Raise your hand. Oh, you’re first name isn’t Tom? Guess what? I don’t care. Oh, you don’t play for the Cowboys so I can’t yell at you? Really? Guess what? This is all going on in CowboysChick’s head so I can do whatever I want. Now shut up and listen. I saw you mouthing off on the field. Didn’t think anyone noticed? Well, I don’t miss ANYthing. This is a warning. Shut up or I’ll torch that mustache Tom Celek. Oh it’s spelled differently? Lighten up please. Wrist. Now! Ssssssmaaaaack!!!

HUH! My ruler broke. Well, it’s Gold Star time anyway.

Will Mr. Antonio Ramiro Romo please step forward? Hello, Mr. Dimples. Here is to a great game and shutting up stupid announcers. Come a little closer. Yup, that’s it. Just lean in. Right here. A gold sticker right on your lapel…and a kiss. It’s protocol. Don’t argue and go back to your seat.

Where is Mr. Miles Austin? Oh, there you are. Come right up here. A gold star for you, young man. A kiss too. Please turn back to your seat. … Excuse me? Someone pinched your what? Well, I certainly didn’t see it. Why am I smiling? I’m happy. WE WON. Remember??! Go back to your seat.

CowboysChick/Ms. Crabapple also handed out gold stars/kisses/pinches to:
Marion Barber because he’s him and he’s running
Felix Jones because he’s him and he’s FAST
Patrick Crayton because he’s him and he had a great game
Anthony Spencer because he’s playing his ass off (no pun intended. yeah, it was)

CowboysChick/Ms. Crabapple has spared the following from wrist slaps even though they deserve it:
Roy Williams (insert long, uncomfortable silence)
That’s pretty much it. Ms. Crabapple is, overall, very happy. I might even treat myself to a cucumber sandwich. Feeling crazy here. You understand.

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