Souhan: Hey, Adrian: Enough of you and the camel you rode in on

Some sentences don't sound right.

There are those that broadcast horrifying truths — "BP destroyed the biosphere of the Gulf of Mexico," "Political candidate bows out after racist rant" — yet sound quite routine.

Then there are those that jar the eardrum. Like this one: "Wearing a turban, Adrian Peterson rode a camel into his Arabian-themed 30th birthday party."

In the olden days, when humans were forced to watch television episodes only when they aired at a prescribed time on an actual television, there was a show named ''Happy Days.'' It began as a comedy set in the '50s, with a character named "Fonzie," who acted tough and rarely spoke.

As the series became more popular, the producers searched for ways to sustain the show's success. "Fonzie" became talkative, even sensitive. When he jumped a shark on water skis, the show was pronounced dead and a new phrase, "Jumped the shark," was given life.

"Jumped the shark" has become one of our most popular clichés — a phrase lasting beyond its recognizable meaning. We no longer need it. We have a new way to describe the moment when something of interest becomes something ridiculous.

"Rode the camel" is the new "Jumped the shark."

Occasional displays of arrogance? Part of the makeup of an elite athlete.

Driving ridiculous speeds through local neighborhoods? Fast cars suit fast men.

Bearing many children out of wedlock? Not good, not responsible, but not unusual for someone with his lifestyle.

Riding a camel at an Arabian-themed 30th birthday party?

Adrian has ridden the camel. Now he's no longer a wacky celebrity. He's a caricature. He can no longer be taken seriously. There are starving cartoonists at theme parks who would refuse to draw a person wearing a turban on a camel.

Since then, Peterson has indicated that his charms are fewer than we had liked to previously believe, and that his worldview, if he has one, lacks realism.

Peterson beat a child. The Vikings tried to reinstate him, were attacked by their sponsors, and were bailed out by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, who placed Peterson on his exempt list.

Peterson got paid for being suspended. The Vikings flew General Manager Rick Spielman and coach Mike Zimmer to Peterson's home in Houston. He greeted them wearing a T-shirt, as if the effort of putting on a collar was too much for him. Spielman recently invited Peterson's agent to dinner, and got rejected.

Since they assumed they should play Peterson against the New England Patriots last September, and were harshly told just how wrong that would be, the Vikings have handled this franchise crisis quite logically.

The Vikings didn't beat a child.

They have tried to repair a relationship that went south through no fault of their own.

They have stood by Peterson, even saying they want him back despite his exorbitant price.

The Vikings are kneeling in proposal, holding up an expensive ring, and Peterson is kneeing them in the face.

During one of his good years, before we knew he was capable of beating children as well as fathering them, seeing Peterson riding a camel during a lavish birthday party would have made for a funny GIF, Meerkat, Instagram, Vine, or a few million funny tweets.

His act isn't funny, or charming, anymore.

Now that he has ridden the camel, he can keep riding it to whichever ethical desert will have him.

Adrian: Don't let the camel's tail hit you in the rear on your way out of town.