“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Saturday, June 07, 2003

So I’m was walking into the NET, and two steps from the door something hits me in the back of the head. It was wet and gooey and I thought I'd been shot.
Then, in a tremendous leap of mental calculation, I realized that if I HAD been shot, I wouldn't be able to THINK I'd been shot...
So I put my hand to the back of my head and it felt like brains and bits of skull, which I seemed strangely uninterested in, or at least less interested than I was in what had just happened to cause this.
So I examine the bits of skull. They were white and bone-like, but very thin and fragile and covered with yellow shit.
Someone in a passing car had hit me with an egg.
Given that this mental process took only fractions of a second I was able to look up and see the SUV driving off and hear the laughter within and I can only guess at who it was. So I did the only thing I could do, I went in and had a burger with raw egg and eggshell running down my back and it came to me, I'll bet it's those bastards from WTAP.
See, last month, in an article, I said that WTAP Parkersburg “couldn’t get a story right if it squatted on their faces” and I kinda sorta accused them of manufacturing news stories and being journalistically irresponsible, and I have it on good authority that they have, in fact, read the article.

In retrospect I wish I'd gone home and had a shower before the egg got to my ass-crack. Actually, in retrospect I wish I hadn't pointed out that I've recently had an ass-crack loaded with raw egg...

Anyways, I gotta go. I have a TV station to burn to the ground…


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