I am interrupting my study-silence to bring you this important rant.
It seems like very time something goes awry in anyone's life, the press slaps on that "Gate" crap. Troopergate... mommadidn'tlovemegate, gate this, gate that. But it was Phelps' "Potgate" that did it for me. I've had it. POTGATE??? COME ON. It is POT. He was smoking a dooby from a bong, not committing treason or pumping up with steroids. Yes, smoking pot is lame. But this gate business has just got to stop. It's just lame. There is no other creative word for it. Lameola.
Pretty soon we are going to be saying that our pets were involved in poopgate when they diddle behind the couch or refuse to stay off the carpet. (Shout out to V and J.)
My in-laws have a dog named Cromwell. (The best dog ever.) But you know, no dog is perfect and Cromwell likes to get a little rowdy and he chews up a cardboard box or two when mom and dad are gone. Puppychewgate.
I'm a man, and sometimes I forget to close the toilet lid just like every other red-blooded hubby. Squatgate.
Give it a rest already...gate.