Well, dear readers it seems I broke one resolution this year. That would be writing more often on this blog...well, hopefully, we'll get back on that horse. Anyway, the winter doldrums seem to be lifting as evidenced in this week's edition.
This on the home front, Bernard J. Scally, was officially promoted to Assistant Editor this week. Seems there is also a open position for a reporter as well. We'll see how that goes.
But on the story front, tonight, Imagine Philadelphia, will talk about how the city will look 20 years hence? What do you think?
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2 comments:
Dear Sir,
Not since I got a retarded monkey drunk on Absinthe, hit him with a sock of hot nickles and sat him infront of a not-quite-fully-functional typewriter have I seen such ridiculous drivel passed off as the English language.
Moreover, I appreciate your attempts at distraction so that I might be spared your bewildering writing and take note of your smug sense of accomplishment. I'm sure it's quite taxing deciding which left-over from Halloween Adventure generic "gangster" suit to squeeze yourself into while recalling fond memories of Boxing Day festivities past in merry old Ipswich.
Speaking of England, you seem to be fond of comparing yourself to Churchill. Rather than point out the absurdity, I'll simply say this: At least Churchill can blame alcohol; what's your excuse?
Is it true you went to Penn State? That would explain a lot, since it seems as if Joe Paterno's senile ass has had quite an influence on your incoherent style. Really, one look at one of your pieces suggests someone who dedicated at least half a semester to their journalism studies in their junior college while reaching for that brass ring of achievment that is writing for the hometown paper on such stirring topics as the impact of the new Superfresh and those nogoodniks with their loud music and public sex displays on Main St.
Perhaps I'm being too harsh. So what if you use the newspaper (and cooresponding blog) to promote events that only you and your friends have interest in? I'm sure those girls you "pine for but still can't have" absolutely love you putting their picture online, and in no way regret posing with you in hopes that you might be appeased enough to get over your grade school puppy dog crush.
I do, however, wish to thank you for the informative two-part article on your trips to foggy old London town. Without the accompanying pictures, I'd have no idea what fans at a soccer match might look like.
Your ego is outmatched only by your vapidity, and Al Gore has been alerted to the alarming amount of trees that have had to suffer the triple death of not only being turned into paper, but then used fuel for your self-esteem engine and then finally as toilet paper for people who used to enjoy reading their local paper.
Keep up the mediocre work, you man about town, you!
Is Steven Wells slogging my blog? If you're not, your critical run-on sentences still show that I have a better class of enemy, therefore I must be moving up in the world. Huzzah!
P.S. Nobody speaks the English language in the United States. Peut-être, vous me voulez parler français? (I didn't spend all of my college years in the bottom of a liquor bottle, just my waking hours) Thank you for your comments, we shall endeavor to provide better service in future.
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