As all of you should unequivocally know—primarily because you share my views on everything in the world and prove that support by retweeting every single word I have ever shared about Extreme Weight Loss Home Edition on the Interwebs—Stan Kroenke is my least favorite person on Earth. This is a hard thing to put into context because Stan Kroenke is not, in the grand scheme of things, the worst man alive. This is a difficult thought to quantify because Stan Kroenke is far from the most evil human in existence. This is a impossible opinion to visually prove because, in spite of the obvious toupee that he probably doesn’t even bother to wear to Major League Lacrosse games, Stan Kroenke is not the ugliest fellow that I have ever laid eyes on. Even Stan Kroenke’s suits, while they do look like they were crafted by an 87-year-old blind man with severe Parkinson’s disease, would not be the most horrendous thing showcased on this season of Project Runway.
The sad thing is that I hate Stan Kroeneke so much. The sad thing is that I always will. I have written about my disdain for the St. Louis Rams Owner before, in a much more serious and sincere manner to be sure, and I am certain that I will write about it again. And yet the following facts remain.
I do not know the man. I have never met him. I have never once spent an afternoon lounging on a raft in one of the 829 above ground pools that Stan Kroenke undoubtedly owns around this great country. I have never once sipped Chianti in his basement wine cellar while I gagged because wine is gross and Stan Kroenke patted me on the back and said how much both my perseverance and alcoholism meant to him. I have never once ridden horses with Stan Kroenke, herding cattle across the Great Plains and wiping our brows with stacks of $10 bills that are worth something only to Americans who are not as American as we are (i.e. not poor people).
Stan Kroenke and I have never gone shopping for American girl dolls at the Chesterfield Mall. Stan Kroenke and I have never guided a submarine across the Atlantic Ocean. Stan Kroenke and I have never, not one time, no matter how many emails I have sent pleading with him to hook me up, gotten backstage passes to a Fifth Harmony Concert. Within the confines of my life Stan Kroenke is not a real person. In my mind Stan Kroenke exists only in the prism that my perceptions of his public actions, or a lack there of, have allowed him to be viewed. In my mind Stan Kroenke is an ideal, standing for something that is both not good and, ultimately, bigger than himself. In my mind Stan Kroenke is the greediest and most heinous non-blatant criminal who is living on this Earth.
In my mind these are some things that Stan Kroenke does in his free time: bet on Polo matches featuring only people in Polo (brand) Polo (style) shirts. Turn thousands of dollars into rolls of pennies that he gives to homeless people only after he’s paid to have the Coin-Star machines moved out of every store within a 20-mile radius. Buy a Dollar General Store and turn it into a Dollar and 89 Cent Not All That General Store. Start a foundation dedicated to maintaining country clubs steam rooms that suffered a decline in usage after said club’s severe membership losses following the financial crisis. Endorse “Child’s Right to Work” legislation in the Indonesian Congress. And, perhaps most tellingly, sue an overweight 27.75-year-old for slander concerning a blog posts he recently wrote where he accused Stan Kroenke of betting on Polo matches or giving homeless people pennies in an attempt to win all $6.48 that he currently has in his chase checking account.
This may be an accurate description of who Stan Kroenke is. It may not. Either way it is a fair summation of my opinion of him. Either way it is the only conclusions I can draw based on what I know about what appears to be a ruthless, determined, and cutthroat kind of guy. Stan Kroenke is callous. All that Stan Kroenke cares about is money. Stan Kroenke is a butthead.
A butthead that must be dealt with. Stan Kroenke is a man that must be dealt with. And I, for reasons unknown to me or anyone else on the planet, am the person who must deal with him. So, without further ado, or au jus for all you roast beef fans out there (hahahahahaha….hilarious) all me to tell you how I intend to do so…
Things I Would Do To Stan Kroenke
1) Break into Stan Kroenke’s house and steal all of his left shoes. Put up a billboard outside his house that reads, “People Without Left Shoes are Jabronis.” Hide in the bushes and videotape Stan Kroenke once he leaves his house, sees the billboard, and begins weeping when it causes him to recognize what a jabroni he is.
2) Call Stan Kroenke and ask if his refrigerator is running. If he says yes, tell him to fuck himself. If he says no, make fun of him for having to drink spoiled milk.
3) Send Stan Kroenke a fake copy of an AARP Magazine featuring a man with underwear on over his trousers and the caption “Everybody Cool Wears Their Underwear Over Their Trousers” on the cover. Then hope that Stan Kroenke takes the styling’s of AARP Magazine very seriously in his own daily life.
4) Tell TMZ that Stan Kroenke is, in reality, a robot. Why TMZ? Because TMZ reports everything they hear, and somehow 100% of it turns out to be true. Then, after the TMZ report is released, I’ll convince Scott Walker to push for a constitutional amendment outlawing robots from owning NFL Franchises. Scott Walker has a lot of pull nowadays. All of his constitutional amendment ideas are logical, up to date, not at all stupid as F, and embraced by everybody.
5) Create a phony Twitter account under the handle “KronkMan4Realz” that sends free bottles of Wal-Mart brand water, aka rancid maple syrup, to ISIS leaders. Wait for the CIA to discover Stan Kroenke’s treason and send KronkMan4Realz to Guantanamo Bay for the expressly forbidden crime of giving ISIS leaders enough sugar to oxymoronically stay both energetic and morbidly obese for years.
6) Steal Stan Kroenke’s credit card. Spend $14,000 on Dale Earnhardt Jr. gear at Wal-Mart. Don’t think about the fact that this is a net positive income wise for SK.
7) Refuse to capitalize stan kroenke’s first and last name. Cause him to get less respect in print than the Professional Wrestler Kane.
8) Snapchat stan kroenke a picture of my feces with the caption “This reminds me your soul.”
9) Allow stan kroenke to move to LA so that he can realize how much everyone there will hate him once they visually see that he is far less handsome than NCIS (or Summer School) Star Mark Harmon.
10) Befriend stan kroenke. Persuade him to divorce his wife and become a contestant on next season of The Bachelorette. Watch the emotional anguish he goes through once he 1-Wins the show, 2-Gets married to the The Bachelorette that picked him not because of his money but because she has always been attracted to “old men who cannot do more than 0.4 pushups consecutively” without a pre-nup, and 3-Proceeds to get divorced once again, only this time it happens within 14 hours of the wedding ceremony and he is forced to give up half of his wealth and the Major League Lacrosse team he owns in Colorado to a 27-year-old “Cat Fitness Coach,” who doesn’t know what either the sport of lacrosse or the state of Colorado itself is. Laugh hysterically at stan kroenke’s misery, while also admitting that it did make for excellent reality TV.
11) Get a custom license plate made that reads “SMLPEN” and place it on stan kroenke’s car. Tell yourself that everyone else on the road is going to know what those letters mean when sk goes cruising buy and judge him both for his biological misfortune and his willingness to share it with the world and not just that old man who is constantly staring at his junk in the showers of his local Club Fitness.
12) Call and cancel stan kroenke’s Club Fitness membership, causing just enough confusion when he shows up in his bicycle shorts the next day and tries to check in at the front desk that he is forced to miss his morning Zumba Class, thereby throwing the rest of his Tuesday completely off the rails.
13) Hire a police sketch artist to draw a picture of stan kroenke’s face. Put that picture on a gigantic stack of flyers. Tacks those flyers onto trees, or more likely steel poles with leaves glued to them, that are located all over stan kroenke’s neighborhood with the captions like “LET THIS FELLA KNOW…THAT YOU SAY NO TO BO!!” or “SPREAD THE WORD…CARGO SHORTS ARE RUINING OUR PROPERTY VALUES!!” written on them.
14) Tell stan kroenke’s dentist that the billionaire is a rabid Anti-Dentite.
15) Break into stan kroenke’s house. Knock him out. Take him to a doctor’s office and get him a vasectomy. Then have his vasectomy reversed. Then have his vasectomy done again. All so stan kroenke can understand the physical toll that 3 vasectomies take on a man.
16) Give stan kroenke a Hitler stache and disable his vocal cords. See if he is this generation’s Charlie Chaplin or if he is just the least talented rich person that has ever lived.
17) Change stan kroenke’s wireless password to “PlayaBoi69.” Wait and see if he can crack that code.
18) Inform the media that stan kroenke almost killed himself when John Snow was murdered during the Season Finale of Game of Thrones. Nerd.
19) Secretly write the word “Wanker” in glitter on the butt of stan kroenke’s pants at an Arsenal game. I’m presently not sure if this action would constitute some sort of sexual joke that I’d be perpetrating on sk’s backside, but I do know this…English people would find it to be absolutely hysterical. And if there’s one thing that should make a true American feel bad, it’s being laughed at (not with Steve Carrell) by British people. After all, George Washington and Mel Gibson both killed more than 100 million Red Coats themselves for far less. Well the Red Coats did murder Mel Gibson's son Heath Ledger so...maybe he did it for more. But whatevs.
20) Take a picture of stan kroenke pooping and, before releasing it to the media, Photoshop actor Dean Cain’s face on it. Why would we Photoshop Dean Cain’s face on it? So everyone who sees the picture, as well as Dean Cain’s suddenly frumpy figure featured in it, will be totally disgusted and Tweet something along the lines of “Man, that Dean Cain is gross,” or “Holy Cow, Superman has really let himself go,” to all 248 of their followers before wondering how Dean Cain was ever lucky enough to see Teri Hatcher in her birthday suit in the first place. This way, stan kroenke would have to live the rest of his life forever knowing that he ruined Dean Cain’s career and sexual appeal with his frumpy body and disgusting bowel movements. Try getting over that guilt stan. Even for a black-hearted son of a gun like you, that seems tough.
21) Get stan kroenke an exorcism. That way Satan will be forced to inhabit the body of a different person on Earth, hopefully someone less influential than the owner of a NFL franchise such as the Prime Minister of Luxembourg or any musician born before 1980, and stan kroenke will finally understand what it’s like to feel emotions such as empathy, compassion, or sorrow instead of just caring about how many shares of Blockbuster Stock he currently has the seed money to buy. There would be no greater punishment for stan kroenke than turning him into an actual man, than transforming him into a real live person. That way he is forced to comprehend and live with the consequences of his action. That way he is forced to comprehend and live with this: there’s a bearded 28-year-old man out there that hates his guts. This hatred is not my fault stan kroenke. This hatred is your’s. And if that isn’t enough to make you want to change as a person, then nothing is. And, it turns out, nothing ever will be….