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Jack Schitt
The lineage is finally revealed. Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says "You don't know Jack Schitt!"
Read on and you'll be able to handle the situation intelligently.
Jack is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, a partner of Kneedeep & Schitt, Inc.
Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, and the deeply religious couple begat 6 children: Holie Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins, Deap Schitt and Dip Schitt. Against her parents' wishes, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout.
After 15 years of marriage, Jack & Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married a Mr. Sherlock, and out of devotion to her children, decided to hyphenate her last name, and became Noe Schitt-Sherlock.
Dip Schitt married a woman named Loda Dung, who became Loda Schitt. The couple produced a nervous son, Chicken Schitt.
Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, inseperable thoughout childhood subsequently married the Happens brothers. The local newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding, which was quite an event. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg, Byrd, and Hoarse.
Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He returned from his travels with his Italian bride, Piza Schitt.
So, NOW if someone says "You don't know Jack Schitt", you can beg to differ. You not only know Jack Schitt, but the entire Schitt list!
Just stumbled on this ... that coincidence thing again.
I've been watching tutorials on how to drive an Apple iPad and one of them showed how to open an email account.

Guess what name the demonstrator used? Jack Schitt. He was amazed to find it wasn't already taken! So he took it off camera to enter a password and claimed it for himself. As you would!
It's funny how you stumble on things like that every now and then.
Love is... that one person whose freshly-warm toilet seat you don't find disgusting.
Loved all that, but surprised they didn't mention being up Schitt's Creek with no paddle.

Decades ago, i wrote something about being up Schitt's Creek with no paddle.
I'm sure I've already shared it here, but it deserves repeating:

After years of living up Schitt's Creek with no paddle, one realizes that Schitt's Creek isn't such a bad place to live.

That's when you get the paddle.

(apologies for being not only philosophical to an absurd degree...but also repetitious.)

It's my way of pretending to be normal.
(Or not.)

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