Aunt Ruth, America’s favorite grammarian, has officially come out of her period of silence.
“I am not going to pursue joining the Big Ten football conference. I repeat,” she stated over the already stressed sound system, “the Big Ten will remain (Aunt) Ruthless for the 2024 season. I do realize,” she continued, “that the Big Ten remains in the awkward predicament of presiding over seventy-three ( 73) teams, the prime number thus making fair scheduling a nightmare. Not to worry, though. I have come up with a solution — just a simple twist of ARSE encryption algorithms using wedding ring and cow-field theory, and, (of course), a cello to provide some string theory.”
Instead of clearing the air, Miss Aunt Ruth’s statements only obfuscated things and made life smellier, akin to pouring a bottle of Chanel No. 5 on a sweaty pig. “That’s really gross,” she opined. “While we’re at it, I need to emphasize, emphatically and with extreme emphasis, I am not building a barbecue joint in Memphis.” The crowd murmured.
“Finally, just to clear the air, I have NOT signed up with the transfer portal to quarterback at Nebraska, North Carolina, or Notre Dame, but I’ve nailed a permanent gig with Gladys’s Gastroenterology. Thank you.”