I’ve been on a train for much of today, so I wanted to share with you a Peter King-style aggravating travel note. (Lucky you! Isn’t this the type of useless information you want from your web writers! Of course it is! Where are my millions, SI and NBC?!?!)
Anyway, here it is.
Aggravating Travel Note of the Day: Was stuck on a train and had the misfortune of reading Peter King’s latest column on my phone. Now I wish I was dead.
Here’s what Poopin’ Pete had to say today (and I refuse to link it):
One other note from the road:
Changing planes at DFW on Sunday, I used the men’s room near one of the American gates. I walked into one of the toilet stalls with the automatic flushers.
WHOOOOOSH. I closed the door to the stall and sat down.
Three more times I heard the same WHOOOOOSH as I sat there and minded my own business.
Of course, no flush when I get up and leave the stall. Gotta love technology.
Wow. Thinks for that relevant NFL information. Fat, disgusting Peter King left a floater in an airport bathroom. Super. And how can he be sure that WHOOOOOSH sound was the automatic flusher? It was likely just the sound of air rushing into his no-doubt gaping anus as he sat down on the toilet.
There really may be no better metaphor for Peter King than a floater. You simply want to quickly and easily take care of some business and read up on the NFL, so you visit a respected site and suddenly you are stuck in a seemingly endless, feces-filled mess, wishing you could unsee what you have seen.
(And I think my metaphor became a simile somewhere in there, thanks to Peter King actually filling his columns with stories about pooing. I apologize. If only the King turd in sportswriting’s punch bowl would apologize, as well.)
(Coming next week: Peter King will tell a story about how he accidentally took a dump in a punch bowl, further limiting my word play abilities.)