"Drunken sailor with Warren Buffett's credit card"

I love reading The Epicurean Dealmaker because of passages like the below. The context is the suspected flameout of Harvard's once-swinging endowment, and emphasis is mine.

Last year, on the occasion of a reunion visit to the leafy groves of my own alma mater, I was dismayed to discover that practically all of the verdant green expanses of my salad days (perfect for snoozing over a physics textbook on a sunny day) were no more. There was almost no plot of grassy space left on campus that had not been filled with the hulking form of yet another architectural monument to the pride and vanity of some self-fellating panjandrum.

Ha, ha. Haha. Hehe.

Related: my somewhat humbler alma mater reports a somewhat humbler loss.