New Big Tex Is Tanned, Rested and Weird as Hell
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Amy Silverstein Anyone got a match?
Say what you will about New Big Tex. Say that he looks like he spent a whole year hanging out with George Hamilton's tanning bed. Say that his eyes are bugging out worse than Large Marge, and you're pretty sure it's because we caught him mid-pant-dump. Say that he would never wear a white shirt after Labor Day. Say that those three-story, knee-high boots make Big Tex look like he's been cast in the sequel to Magic Mike, playing a dom cowboy who says "howdy" whenever he sees a vagina.
Say all of that, because it's true.
Let's also add: What the hell is up with the arms, State Fair of Texas folks? You have a chance to finally fix Tex's jacked-up arms, and instead you make them worse? He used to have an extended left arm that made him look like he was going for a giant boob grab, while his right hand was giving a subtle high-five to a friend because he was so boob-grab proud.
His left arm only sort of looks like he's tapping a boob from underneath now. And his right arm isn't shoved in his armpit anymore. I assume you were trying to preserve the weird-arms thing, because some committee member was like, "He used to be Santa and then we turned him into a cowboy and if we move his arms from being totally weird, nobody will recognize him." But you didn't make it exactly the same weird. You moved that right arm out of his armpit, and now he just looks like he's gesturing, "Why the fuck am I standing here when I could be tanning, you guys?" And if you had the technology to move his arms, why did you miss the opportunity to make him raise the roof or Heisman it or -- and I know this sounds crazy -- wave a normal freaking hello?
Congrats to you, fair deciders who made New Big Tex. You have succeeded in making Big Tex weirder than he was before, and I really never even considered that option as a possibility. I mean, he should look like a total creeper. After all, he's the jackass who spends all day and all night at the fair for three straight weeks. His expression is just an accurate representation of what three weeks of fried bullshit, LSD-fueled Midway benders and no sleep will make your face do. (The boots were obviously purchased while high.)
Welcome back, Big Tex. A State Fair of Texas without you would have been worse than a burger without a fried egg on top.