All it’s taken is a year’s worth of Chad Johnson’s irrational bitching and moaning and whining and martyring, and now demanding a delusional trade for us to turn on him. Pretty much the same formula employed by most the chicks we’ve dated.

It’s tough to put into words how disappointed we are in Chad. We’re more disappointed than the time we rented “Blown Away” and instead of Nicole Eggert shower scenes we got some flick about Irish car bombs that didn’t involve Guiness. Translated: We’re really fucking disappointed.

And what pisses off the most — and the reason we are now irrevocably dunzo with Ocho Cinco — is his inability to recognize what he’s squandering. Sure, it’s nothing new for dipshit athletes to fail to realize that the organization employing them is actually the one providing the opportunity, not vice versa, but the difference with Chad is the level of goodwill he’s flushing down the toilet.

In just about ever similar instance the athlete in question is already genuinely disliked by the public. That’s not the case with Chad. Chad has actually spent years developing his personal brand of lovable showboat (see: opposite of Salisbury’s brand development). What Chad’s currently doing is forever poisoning his own image, and — more importantly to him — his future earning potential. That sort of idiocy is unforgivable.

So to celebrate what a complete debilitating self-indulgent dumbass Chad Johnson has let himself turn into, we’re going to do some deconstruction, taking examples of everything we once thought was cool about him and making them sound as lame as possible. It’s really the only way we’re going to feel any better…

Ocho Cinco. What kind of asshole doesn’t know that Eighty-Five in Spanish is “Ochenta y Cinco”, not “Ocho Cinco”? Sucks history is going to remember this gimmick as one big fucking translation blunder.

Gold Teeth and Fro-Hawk. All the brothers we know tell us that gold teeth were so 2004. Apparently Chad and Lil’ Jon didn’t get that memo. Oh, and Chad, Wesley Snipes called from the set of “Demolition Man”, he wants his look back.

Choreographing Cyndi Lauper Songs. Simply not cool any way you slice it. A Bengals teammate once told us that Chad owns a Sarah Jessica Parker signed Blu-Ray copy of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” that he keeps on his mantle at home. Weeeaaaak.

The Proposal. Word in Cincinnati is this cheerleader had already been run through by both the first and second string defensive lines. Hey Chad, you can’t turn a ho into a housewife!

Racing the Horse. Few people realize that Chad gave the horse a hand job prior to the race in order to quell the horse’s competitive spirit. True story.

The Riverdance. Choreographing to Michael Flatley may actually be gayer than choreographing to Cyndi Lauper.

The Plea to the NFL. Should have read, “Dear NFL, Please match my 401k contributions. I’m going to have zero future earning potential after I’m 30.”

And finally, The HOF Jacket. We don’t even have a clever made up story for this one, it just pisses us off. We hope The Ball Lickers Society of North America has a hall of fame, because that’s the only one Chad’s getting inducted to any time soon.

Now feel free to go out and punch a stranger.

Previous Editions of PITFF:

• Benji Madden
• Scott Storch
• Greg Paulus
• Puff Daddy
• Spencer Pratt

“Punch in the Face Friday” is NextRound’s weekly exposé on shitty people. Click here to check out the PITFF archives. Click here to email us a nominee.

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