Letter To Lou Dobbs
March 7, 2007
Dear Lou,
Last week, someone filling in for you introduced a story about marijuana that, I'm told, was reported by Chris Romans. Lou, I wondered if you wouldn't mind dropping the following note into Ms. Romans' mail box for me.
Thanks. Oh, and when you pass Anderson Cooper on the way to the men's room, suggest that he reminds you of William Hurt in Broadcast News and then knee him in the nuts for me, the friggin' jag, and tell him he's got another one comin'.
Honestly,
John Bizarre
Letter to Chris Romans
Dear Ms. Romans,
Please accept my heartfelt thanks for your illuminating exposé on marijuana and its alarming increase in strength of late, and thank you also for extracting the words "powerful" and "dangerous" from a "government report" and then flinging them at me with what dim members of the younger set might term "wicked cool graphics", and thank you also for ending your hardscrabble news flash with the confusing notion that because pot has become more potent, users require less to get high, smoke less, and therefore reduce their exposure to the "powerful" and "dangerous" new THC levels, which, of course, suggests that your entire report was redundant.
Pardon the bluntness of the question but are you completely fucking retarded? Where did you get your degree, the Jennifer Tilly School of Journalism?
Way to got, Suzi McScoop - Ace Reporter. Hope you didn't sprain your Google finger assembling that anemic collection of yawning clichés. Hey, how did you stumble across the news of cannabis increasing in potency, by reading a 20 year old newspaper? Guess I better tell my "doper friends" that their "tea" could be "laced" and they might be in for a "bad trip".
Here's a question for ya - Can you pass a fistful of pencils through that hole in your head without touching the sides? Betcha can too.
Thank heavens practitioners in other fields of endeavor have shown more curiosity about their subjects than you have about yours. Had Christopher Latham Sholes, Henry Ford and Winston Churchill all shared your level of dedication to craft, I'd be writing this to you with a feather, a blotter and an inkwell aboard my coach-and-six as I browse through the brochure for the Hitler Hotel in London's fashionable Goebbles district.
Hey there, Jabberin' Jenny, do the world a big, fat, honkin' favor, wouldja? Buy a copy of High Times, invest in some corrective headgear, and blast yourself into the next fuckin' century.
No time for minced words,
John Bizarre
Copyright 2007 John Bizarre
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