I didn't post a new Jakespearean sonnet last week because I was en route to Houston, which was my jumping-off point for a trip to Mexico. After five days in Manzanillo, I boarded a flight out of town, upon which I promptly became ill and unleashed Mattyzuma's Revenge on Continental Airlines' bathroom-in-the-sky for roughly two hours. [Author's note: I would like to extend my sincere apologies to the people seated between rows 21 and 33; I was as shocked as you that the oxygen masks did not deploy.]
I mention my gastric troubles for two reasons. First, poop stories are always funny. Second, and more relevant to this blog, there's a nice parallel between the previous JJ Tweet post and what Mexico apparently did to me. Because it seems to work so well, after the jump, we'll continue the gastric distress meme as we discuss some of the traits the Lane College Linguist looks for in a potential mate.
Ladies (and BFD), do you ever ask yourself, "What would I have to do to get Jacoby Jones to notice me?" Of course you do. Jacoby is Cyrano de Bergerac with a smaller nose and a better tan. (That David Anderson is JJ's de Neuvillette is unconfirmed as of this writing.) As it turns out, the answer is simple: Skip the Beano.
Yup, Jacoby is a man of refined tastes, and one of those tastes is, apparently, the flatus of his would-be lovers. A woman who truly seeks to woo the wordsmith would be well-advised to go ham, consume copious amounts of real crawfish, and then skip the Beano. He'll be putty in your likely obese hands. Because, hey, big girls need love, too. (But they gots to pay.)