Hey, what gives?
For the longest time, The Ticket has been telling me that Savannah is my favorite Tight Ends girl.
OK, I have no reason for her not to be my favorite Tight Ends girl.
She seems like a nice girl.
I mean, I never actually met her, but she seems nice to me.
And she promised me in all those ads that:
-- the beer is frosty;
-- the food is mouth-watering; and
-- the T's are poppin'!
I believed my favorite Tight Ends girl, nice Savannah.
But today, I hear a couple of Tight Ends ads being read by some woman named Joanna, and she says that she's my favorite Tight Ends girl!
What happened to Savannah? Why can't she still be my favorite Tight Ends girl?
I can't even find a photograph on the World Wide Webs identifying any of the many Tight Ends girls who appear there as Joanna.
I'm sure she's nice, maybe a nice as Savannah, but indications are scarce.
But here's the worst part: Joanna promises that:
-- the beer is frosty;
-- the food is mouth-watering; and
that's it!
Joanna does not promise that the T's are poppin'!
Oh, she says the Tight Ends girls will all dress to impress. But hell, so does Angela Merkel, and no one would claim that her T's are poppin'.
So it seems we have come to the end of the era of the poppin' T's at Tight Ends. Or at least the end of the era where Cumulus Standards and Practices will allow a sponsor to claim that visitors to its establishment will see young women's improbably large breasts exploding out of their cotton-lycra blend tops.
Savannah, come back!
