Oh, I See

Now we see how those snarky Michigan dogs are going to lose their snarky little game and get themselves automatically eliminated from the finals. We see that the Michi-Ganders are all clued in to Alfred J. Burrell, a carver of tombstones at a cemetery in Ypsilanti, Michigan. So? Yes, so everybody's tombstone will have a birth and death date and not much else, as these Michiganders are fond of reminding us, and that just might sum up their lives as well, sad to say, because obviously, their Burro is not the Alfred W. Burrell, the bridge builder in Oakland, Calif., who walked off with the Salvadoran dough. Who are we to argue with the Tribunal of Arbitrators? And what valuable point do the Michiganders think they are making by pointing out the cemeteries of Michigan? I fail to see the value of the point when I never knew of the existence of Alfred W. Burrell in the first place, so, like, whatever. Why should we care about the tombstones of Michigan? I really couldn't care less, to be specific. If Michiganders are so fond of their Ypsilanti tombstone engravers, perhaps they could will a final resting place there. Because really I don't have a clue what their point is. We are all born and die but only one Alfred Burro has the dough, and the Michiganders just don't have what it takes.