At the moment, however you want to spin it, I feel that I should be given a nice fat award. Why? For reporting the news while on the toilet.
My cell is resting in the palm of my hand, or, in my lap as it were, as I battle this sickness that has my rear planted on this phone. I’m even writing this post from my throne as well. Since I have been sick, my reporting has been limited to Twitter, Facebook, and phone calls and text messages, but, I am still swinging and investigating, and reporting!
The elder geek stopped by my apartment to give me some tablets, and I’m staring at the bottle to try and remember how many I should take. Did he say 2? 3? this is killing me. I don’t want to overdose, so I gingerly take 2.
The news I sent in was a story about the governor and the like, and an audiobook review. I’ve even sent some checks into cash via taking a picture on my sink. Talk about multitasking.
I also fielded a call from the Bear’s agent, who offered me season long press passes. I tell him that I don’t write about sports unless he has sweaty black guys on his team in shorts.
I am typing up a fun assignment, still on this mystical throne in my chamber, wishing that the elder geek would have given me written instructions with the medicine, as, I’m starting to worry about the 2 I took a few minutes ago. I have to write about the political messages in the Hunger Games movie.
Articles are in the cue, I submitted two articles with my pants down, I got invited to meet the Chicago Bears, along with a seasons press pass offer, and I am still sick as a dog with my pants near my ankles.
I think I should get a journalism award based on that alone, or a nice, fat, raise