All This For a Dead Irishman
I'm typing this from the Tip O'Neil memorial library on the leafy campus of Boston College. Were I ol' Tip, I'd be rightly pissed at my memorial library. It smells awful in here, like a drunk's soiled underpants the day after a titanic bender. Obviously Tip liked to party (just look at that ruddy, bulbous nose), but I'd think this aroma would be much more appropriate for whatever building they name after the soon-to-be-dearly-departed Ted Kennedy. C'mon, BC, I know you're not exactly known for being classy, but couldn't you have evinced at least a little bit of decorum, just this once?
Speaking of Teddy, I think I've seen him driving a late '70's Camaro twice in the last few weeks. If not him, then his body double. Dude looks just like him, and sports an awesome set of wheels. Of course drunken, elderly Irishmen are about as rare in Boston as fat dudes in overalls at the CiCi's buffet.