I’m legitimately worried about the wellbeing and whereabouts of national treasure, Lou Holtz. That poor stuttering, senile bastard is left to fend for himself in the city of Cleveland with nothing more than Crown Royal and childlike wonderment for the Republican party.
Where are his handlers…I mean family? Turn your back on Grandpa Lou for even a split-second and that wild man will just meander his way into trouble faster than he can say “wha-wel-eye-duh-eh-cuver-tree.”
Old Louie with a bottle of Canadian whiskey at the RNC is the lost toddler at Disney World holding a balloon waiting for his dickbag parents to come back from riding Space Mountain. He’s in awe of his surroundings, has a hard time communicating to anyone that approaches him, and will probably poop his pants at one point or another.
Get my man some help before he actually wanders out of the Quicken Loans Arena and into the actual city of Cleveland..