Racking Up the Irony
My flight was delayed.I was in O'Hare, flying back from visiting my sister and Mom 93.0, and the flight was delayed. This was because I was flying on United, and every United flight in this century has been delayed.
I'm tired, because flying is tiring now, particularly when you're wearing a mask the whole time (airport=petri dish). I'm thirsty, too, because it's hard to stay hydrated when you're trying to not catch the plague.
I decided to go to Chili's. This would not be my first choice, or my hundredth, but I just wanted a drink.
As I drank (quickly), I noticed the music. It's hard to describe, but I think I can describe the guy you'd associate the music with: late teens, skinny, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt with a gap between because he's not wearing a belt and his pants sag because he doesn't have a butt. He has long, straight hair, and he smokes between every class.
Then the song "Big Balls" came on. This is an all-time classic for serious fans of sophomoric double entendre. And it was hilarious—forty years ago.
Have a lyric sampling:
Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they're held for pleasure
They're the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
It's my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night (oh)
I mean, it's not Solzhenitsyn.
Chili's! Do you know when my balls feel their absolute smallest? When I'm sitting in an airport Chili's!
Of course you want to hear the song. I won't leave you hanging (heh): Big Balls.
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