All Over the Place

Journalism 101

-I’d say don’t go there but it’s no use. So, the
senator and his sweetie?

-Hacked his home computer. Three hundred words just
describing her cunt.

-Didn’t realize his artistic bent.

-That’s just the half of it. Pet names for it, and
Shakespeare quoted too upon her titzy-witzys!

-Look! You must decide what kind of journalist to be.
Exploiting a decrepit silver fox who gets up five
times a night to piss will put you in the right.
Religious Right. Thus the main vein presently:
Christian Hypocrisy. That’s one!

Or, two, hearken back to raunchy yesteryear.
Just keep the tits above the fold as the enormous balcony
of Peaches LaVoom enrolls in Princeton’s Economics
of Stripping.

Or three, Journalism! Find out whence went billions
lifted in Iraq by professing patriots, Christians, and
other scumballs.

-I’ll take number one. It’s today!

-Who gives a fuck? I’m retiring anyway. Getting up
as many times as that wretch of a lecherous
senator--sounds like Gilbert and Sullivan!
Getting up at night that is.

-Whatever. I’m never getting old. No percentage.