Joe the Plumber Hired as Journalist
WARNING: Okay, look. This article contains quite a few references to off-color language, and although NO significantly off-color language is actually used, it has the potential too offend those with delicate sensibilities to some degree.
This past year, Samuel Wurzelbacher, the man known to Americans as “Joe the Plumber,” was actually hired as a journalist by a conservative news website who sent him to cover the conflict in the Gaza Strip. Wurzelbacher became famous during last year’s presidential election when he asked Barack Obama a question, lied about, well… everything, and then allowed himself to be shamelessly exploited by the McCain/Palin campaign.
Here are the highlights from his first report. While bombs occasionally exploded and fires burned in the background, Wurzelbacher reported:
“I’m sure they’re taking quick showers… I know I would.”
“I have thousands of questions but I can’t think of the right one.”
“Why hasn’t Israel acted sooner? I know if I were a citizen here, I’d be damned upset.”
“I’m a ‘peaceloving’ man, but when someone hits me, I’m going to unload on the boy. And if the rest of the world doesn’t understand that, then I’m sorry.”
This will not be a long article, I promise. I don’t even feel like talking about it much, to tell you the truth. I don’t even know why I started it. I mean, I don’t have the foggiest idea of what to say. I guess I could say something that would sound… I don’t really even know.
How in the world… I mean wait. What I’m really trying to say is, well, you see… look. What I’m getting at is… hold it. I think this will help you get your arms around… no, that’s not the right way to. Okay… hold it. The entire thing would certainly have to be described as being, well… maybe not quite so much… and are we even sure that… I mean, I’m not trying to… you see… isn’t that really the thing… isn’t it? Wouldn’t it really have to come down to… and I’m not trying to… I mean, I could, but I would never. The thing is that I simply can’t, and that doesn’t mean that I think that just anyone… Damn it.
See what I mean?
So… Wurzelfriggenbacher got himself a paid gig as an investigative reporter on international events… GLOBAL frigging events… the world stage, as it’s sometimes called… all expenses paid… press pass… the mixers with famous reporters from ABC, CBS, NBC, I suppose Business Class, too? Wurzelfriggenbacher? That guy. And then I’m supposed to write about it? Well F#@k you, you write about it. Just thinking about it is making me bleed from my ears.
Someone in this country sent Joe-the-Frigging-Plumber on an all expense paid trip to cover the Middle Frigging East during a war in the Gaza-Frigging-Strip. So, like what would you have me say after having to write a sentence like that? “How nice for him.” “I think it was a good move.” “Let’s give him a chance.” Are you on crack? Did you hear what I just said? Are you even listening?
I feel like going out to my garage and sticking a tire iron up my ass, and then trying to change a tire by wiggling my ass back and forth.
And nobody cares… nobody. It’s always: “Come on Mandelman… write another story Mandelman… come on… you can do it Mandelman… you’re really funny Mandelman… well, shit, shit, shit.
Okay, fine… I’ll try. I’ll rise above my petty jealousies and aggressive tendencies. I’ll forget the past thirty years of honing my writing skills, reading everything and everyone… a lifetime of experience upon which to draw. Just let it go. Whew! Boy, I was getting a little out of control there for a bit… is it hot in here?
It’s not that big a deal, right? So what? So, Joe the Plumber covered the Middle East as a foreign correspondent. And I’m writing copy for a billboard advertising Mrs. Peabody’s Spam & Ham Inside Toast… (or S. H. I. T. for short). So, big deal… I’ve got several things going for me that Joe the Plumber doesn’t have. Like… wait a minute… don’t jump… I’ve got something coming here… just wait… umm…
I know, ML-Implode! Joe the Plumber doesn’t have ML-Implode! Of course, instead he’s got a big shot agent, his own P.R. firm on retainer, an entourage of assistants… the attention of all the networks… access to anyone on the planet just by picking up the phone… But, he doesn’t have what I’ve got at ML-Implode. No, I guess he doesn’t, does he? No ML-Implode for you Joey-Boy… Nope, sorry…
Lokk, this sonofab#t@h needs to… a shot needs to ring out… no that’s wrong, look, all I’m saying is…
No, you know what, no. I’m not going to do it. I’m not even going talk about it again. I’m done. You guys all know how to write stuff. You want to hear about Joe Wurzelfriggenplumberbacher… then you write about Wurzelfriggenplumberbacher your damn self.
You want to write about this guy gallivanting around Cairo, staying at The Shepard’s Hotel, or whatever that James-friggin-Bond-like GQ hotel is called, you go ahead. But, don’t even look at me for a minute… I’m not even here. I don’t want to talk about it again. From now on, as far as I’m concerned Wurzelfriggenplumberbacher is “he-who-should-not-be-friggin-named”. Got it?
You know where the comments go… I don’t care what you do. I’m going to go see if I can rub the skin off two-thirds of my body with a belt sander.