So when we went and got hired to indoctrinate some university students in the black arts of journalism -- excuse us, something in our throat ah ah ahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahaha COUGH PHLEGM SPLAT -- we knew we had to find the best Wonker who wasn't all tied down with his JOB, MAN to act in our stead, making sure pictures were correctly sized, puttin' shit on MyFace, NOT LIBELING PEOPLE, etc. And after much looking, and much asking, and a lot of "him?" that Wonker turned out to be Rich Abdill! Sure, he has "a job," but it is like almost 5 p.m. on the East Coast anyway. So on Wednesday afternoons and evenings for the next 10 weeks, Herr Mr. Abdill will be your new us. Now continue on your terrible ways.
I think it's called Sideboob Curator, not writer.
I'll thank you not to make such comments to my old cojones.
Stick a clean handkerchief into it? Henngh?
Pick a place, make the time a week or two in advance, and I'm down from the hills.
I'm sorry, but I can think of a couple of points where Rich is bound to fall flat compared to Becca.
I'm guessing it has something to do with the word "part".
You beat me to it. (H/T Trudeau)
Wait. Roll... me .. over.... clover. ..... What was that?
godfucking, ass dammit.
Shapely heel, huh? You know you're thinking haunches.
And WTF.
Gimme something to write on.
Wait. Isn't it Mooshell?
hahahahahaha no more goddamned 'with votes'
I have six loyal serving men They taught me all I knew; Their names are What and Why and When And Where and How and Who.
---Jayson Blair, or maybe Rudyard Kipling. It's easy to mix them up.
I was too bashful to ask (kicks dirt, in modest shy Canadian way)...