Primarily about Penn State football, this is a tale told by idiots, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
On a recent visit to her native Chicago, Artificially Sweetened grabbed a photo of Paterno’s Liquor Center. Conveniently located near Big Ten Headquarters, the Paterno family discount afforded Joe the opportunity to cheaply bolster himself with the Old Granddad anesthetic necessary for enduring extremely frustrating meetings with Jim Delany (see Skeleton in Delany’s Closet).
Because I spend so much time in there, I needed something that would ensure my comfort and put me in an appropriate mood to write the crap I spew here.
Introducing the Official Nittany Turkey Signature Model commode. (I like all the “sanitized” terms we have for a damn toilet: commode, water closet (W.C.), loo, little girls’ room, john, jane, head, goin’ to see a man about a horse, lavatory, wash room, etc., etc.) To me, though, it’s always a crapper.
I must now repair to the crappatorium for some solace. Due to recent trip to the Holy Land, I’m seriously delinquent in publishing my PSU ruminations. I’ve got a pile of stuff backed up (take that any way you want), so I don’t know whether I’ll get caught up today or not. Don’t flush the Turkey just yet!
Big thanks to Artificially Sweetened for thinking of her man in this context!
