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Today I accidentally aired static instead of "Boston Public." No one seemed to notice.

I know I have successfully fooled my co-workers when they compare me to "Funshine" or "Cheer Bear," and not "Grumpy" or "Devil Eyes" bear.

Today I was declared the most "retardedly outraged" person anybody knows.

Guy With Camera: "Hey, what's your reaction to Saddam's capture?"

Me: "It's 'HOLY SHIT!' and also 'GODDAMN IT!' and then 'HOLY SHIT!' again."

Along with some of the other things they teach you in news reporter school, they teach you to have someone spell out their name on tape so that if you use a sound bite from them, you'll have the correct spelling as they gave it to you. So one of our videographers went to cover a "street baller" tournament here in town... I think it might have been part of the "And One" caravan.

He starts to interview this guy, and he asks him: "First, could you spell your name please?"

The guy goes: "Yeah, dawg. H. O. T, S. A. U, C. E."

There is a long pause. (A spelling-in-my-head pause.) You can see the camera move, as though the videographer were poking his head around the side in puzzlement.

"...Hot Sauce?"

"Yeah, Dawg. What?"

It was the most hilarious beginning to an interview I've seen in quite some time.

On Wednesday, I spent the entire day at a meeting about our medical benefits. One co-worker who was waiting outside the conference room for the next meeting to start asked me "how it went."

"See this?" I said, holding up my "Informational Benefits Packet". "THIS," I said, "is a dildo. You will be violated with it."

Sweeps starts next week. We're down one News Director, two reporters, we have no interns, and our chief photographer just quit. That means we've got like, ten people running two newscasts. I've already worked over forty hours this week, and it's only four o'clock on a Wednesday.

I was actually afraid of what might happen when I had to deliver the 8,430th piece of bad news to the executive producer last night. News like:

The live truck broke! My tape deck broke! Camera five broke! Okay, now the tape deck in the live truck is broke! With a tape we needed inside it! The live shot won't work because it's on the 11th floor and no one has enough cable to wire the cameras all the way up there! That news car you sent out to cover a story about a thirty car pileup of cars stuck in ditches got stuck in a ditch! The satellites are all broke!

I filed a Repair Request Report that read:

Item needing to be fixed?: Newsroom.
Item location?: Newsroom.
Description of problem?: Can't make news.

I was not allowed to submit this report. I had to fill out several smaller, more specific reports. It took forever.

South Korea is impeaching their president, and I am currently watching video of the members of Parliament beat the shit out of each other like it's a soccer brawl. It's complete pandemonium. I've never seen goverment officials act like such hooligans. And the best part is, in true, male, drunken bar-brawl style, after the fight broke up, they put their arms around each other and sang.

Also:

A man protesting the impeachment was arrested earlier today after trying to drive his car up the steps of the national assembly. He then set the car on fire, after unsuccessfully climbing the steps.

Well, yeah. Because if you can't drive into a building, you might as well burn shit.

Every couple of weeks we have an impromptu chicken wing party at someone's house. It involves cases of beer and a migrating deep fryer. This week we decided to go all out and actually invite other people and call it "WingFest 2004!" in honor of a co-worker's birthday.

But when he didn't show up, we downgraded WingFest 2004 to "PizzaRollShindig... March."

(He's the only one who knows how to make the chicken wings.)

This is Hebbufer! Aren't you excited?

So anyway, I'm sitting at work and I get this phone call from Bren, and unlike Monday's phone call from Bren which resulted in me screaming in laughter while my co-workers stared at me, I just screamed "YAY!"

And I only gots so much time to tell you, so I'll be brief:

Yay!

the one good thing about the new job: the vending machines here kick ass. i just ate a gyro, with actual tsiziki sauce, and a couple of those pink hostess sno-balls. i didn't even know they made sno balls anymore. rock on. that's seriously the most exciting thing i have to say about working here so far.

Breaking News: There was a shooting tonight... outside the local hospital's emergency room.

...HOW MUCH MORE CONVENIENT DO WE HAVE TO MAKE THE CRIMES, PEOPLE?

I just witnessed a conversation between two co-workers about how disgusting their fiancees are because they went out and spent hundreds of dollars on generators. And I viciously quote:

"I don't have a rug for the entry way, but we have a 5000 watt generator that we won't even need!"

Okay, listen. I'll gladly trade you the rug in my front entryway for a generator any day of the week. If Dan made a random purchase and it was a generator, I'd hug him. Because I actually spent three days with no power. I don't care if it sat in the basement for fourteen years, I know how much it sucks to wait a few days for the power to come back on.

Let me tell you how cold the house gets in less than 72 hours. THE TOOTHPASTE WAS FROZEN IN THE TUBE.

I caught the discussion while I was putting away a fire extinguisher I stole borrowed from the station so that, if for some reason my attempt at caveman living went awry, I could at least put the blaze out before it destroyed the house. See, I was so cold, I set a small fire in the living room to keep warm. IT WAS THAT COLD.

Subject Heading: Tape Disposal
To: Supervisor
From: Me

You know that stack of empty video tape boxes we have sitting in the middle of the floor? I found a way to get rid of them. I think if you really wanted to annoy someone, every few minutes you could walk by them and put an empty tape box on their desk. I bet it'd be really funny if there ended up being a huge pile of boxes on someone's desk.

I'm very busy today.

I so want to win a regional Emmy. This is my new goal in life. ESPECIALLY if they give out the same statuettes as the other Emmys. (And from every indication on this brochure I have, they're the same.)

I wouldn't even care if it were a miniature version of the primetime Emmys. I'd put it on my keychain. I just want to be able to have "Emmy Award Winning Editor" in front of my name.

Seriously, I'd get my driver's license changed to include "Emmy Award Winner" on it. I'd put it on my taxes if they let me. At the very least, I'd change my address labels to reflect my accomplishment.

While trying to write a tease for the new heart benefits of Viagra, someone threw out "It used to help your fun muscle, now it helps your heart muscle."

I said: "I don't think your penis is a muscle." Which prompted much discussion and research on the internet. Someone went to a website where the word "penis" is said aloud in a robotic voice. Soon, everyone in the newsroom got on the internet and was typing words like "weiner", "sausage," and "wang" into the voice generator so that there was a chorus of computerized "wang! wang! PENIS! wang!"s emanating from the newsroom all night.

At one point, I heard "SAUSAGE!" and "TACO!" among the mix.

We should probably stop smoking crack before our newscasts.

I could not find an online source for this story, so I'm copying and pasting from our own wire service. This is almost too unbelieveable to be true:

Four Year Old Steals Car, Joyrides To Video Store:

Date: 2/6/2005
Title: MI Preschool Driver/Video
Dateline: Sand Lake, MI
Source: NNSWXMI

Early Saturday morning (2/5), a 4 yr-old boy drove to the local video store in his mother's car. The preschooler made it to the store, about a quarter of a mile away, driving under 10 miles an hour.

After noticing that the store was closed, the boy headed home. That's when local police spotted his car. Police say that the car was swerving all over the road, and they didn't see anyone behind the wheel. They followed the car to a nearby apartment complex. Upon entering the complex parking lot, the car hit two parked vehicles. When the car finally came to a stop, it was only a few feet away from the apartment building. The child then put the vehicle into reverse and rammed into the police cruiser that had parked behind it.

Officers couldn't believe who they saw behind the wheel. The mother, alerted by one of the neighbors, said that she had no idea that her son had left. The mother said that her son had tried to drive the car before, but she had stopped him. However, police believe that the mother had unintentionally taught her son how to drive, by letting him sit on her lap while she was driving.

All the damage the 4 yr-old caused amounts to about $600 dollars for the police cruiser and a couple of hundred dollars for the neighbors' cars, but there won't be any charges filed. The mother of the driver was not available for comment.

Do you punish that kid, or just get premium cable and hide the car keys?

Top Five Things Heard Around The Newsroom Today:

5. - "There's too many horses in this show."
4. - "Germans love bricks."
3. - "I hope someone gets stabbed tonight."
2. - "You brought me the gift of fruit? I love you!"
1. - "I know I've asked this many times, but what are the limitations on how we can properly describe diarrhea on the air?"

Our first question comes from Golfwidow. She asks:

Have you ever met Peter Jennings, and did he say anything about wanting to run away with me?

The answers are: No, and no. Sorry.

No, I'm sorry. I'll be serious. (Unless he did. I could be packed in about ten minutes.)

What was the first top national news story you had a hand in reporting to your viewers? (Sort of another way of asking "Where were you when X happened?")

I can't even remember. Probably something about a missing pregnant women or other assorted murder mystery. Usually the stuff that goes national isn't very uplifting.

"Ask Me About The News Media Business, Because I Will Tell You" continues today, with this question from Roach:

Are they wearing pants behind that desk?

Depends how hot it is outside.

Gareth asks:

Over here news gets sensationalised a lot, particularly in the papers, and what I saw when I was in New York a couple of years ago suggested the US was no different. How much do you see that going on where you work?

Yes, of course we're sensationalized. Everyone is. I'll give you two examples. Number one is the Michael Jackson trial. Number two is the Michael Jackson trial.

HAHAHAHA! Just received on the wire:

Slug: NN-VIEWER-CALLS
Status: URGENT

STATIONS:

ELVIS HAS BEEN SIGHTED AT NEWSPATH. Well, at least according to one affiliate -- which is giving the [CBS] Newspath number out to viewers. Please, it's for your use only, NOT ELVIS FANS.

We don't have Elvis info. We haven't seen him in years. All the info about tonight's Elvis special can be found at www.cbs.com. Please direct your callers accordingly.

We love taking calls from our affiliates about breaking news, file tape requests, and what we had for dinner. Viewers can call 212-975-4321.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

"Breaking News" constitutes: "Michael Jackson's van is driving! Down the street! OH MY GOD HE'S DRIVING DOWN THE STREET! Let's discuss."

I got an unusually large paycheck this week, no doubt due to my working ALL DAY EVERY DAY. Am I the only one who looks at that big, fat, round number sitting in my checking account, and gets the urge to stuff my pockets full of cash and run down the street, buying to my heart's desire? Because you know I'm just going to go home and pay bills. But dude... it'd be so fun to be able to blow a thousand dollars on Beef Jerky and DVDs. Wouldn't it?

This afternoon my producer was unable to make it to our weekly post-show meeting. Which was fine, as he usually says the exact same thing every week -- "This was a great show, so-and-so did a fantastic job, the such-and-such was wonderful, I think we had a lot of good content, a solid show."

In his absence, I was going to do a snarky impression of the preceding quote. Before I got a chance to utter one superflous adjective, one of the managers said: "Well, everyone, this was a GREAT show! It was FANTASTIC! That story was WONDERFUL!"

And then my manager's manager chimed in with: "Yes, the show was SOLID, we had a LOT OF GOOD CONTENT!"

Then the boss of the whole damn station said: "See, this is why you shouldn't miss meetings."

My first thoughts upon seeing the slug "Bullock Weds James" in our 11pm rundown:

"Jim J. Bullock got married? ....Isn't that still illegal?"

"Hey."

"What?"

"Your script says: 'In 24 hours, the new Harry Potter book sold six point nine copies.' How'd they sell nine tenths of a book? And to whom? That's the real story."

"Shut up."

Three kids living on campus were shot, execution-style. The only reason we're covering the trial of their murderer is because the three kids were white. The truth is, they were drug dealers. You could say "Oh, only one of them was a drug dealer," and be technically correct. But guess what? You lives with a drug dealer, YOU TAKES YOUR CHANCES.

Imagine the surliest, most unpleasant person you have to work with every day.

Now imagine that you've just overheard him loudly singing along to a bad pop ballad from the 80's.

I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do with that.

My favorite quote of late was from a story we ran interviewing a confessed murderer in jail, who stabbed a mother-of-two to death (allegedly). His explanation? "I was trying to get her off me, yo. She was attacking me. They weren't 'stabs.' They was more like 'pokes.' "

The reporter's tag was actually: "Yeah, the police aren't buying that explanation, either."

Ha ha ha, whoops. I don't think we published the exact location, but somehow, someone got ahold of the address for a cop-who's-accused-of-rape, and burned his house down.

Me: "That'll teach us to show people's homes on air."

Reporter: "That'll teach a cop to rape a 15 year old."

From:Assignment Desk
To: Employees
[Redacted Name], phone number XXX-XXXX of [Name of City] called to say that two girls in a black pickup pulled up to her porch and stole one of her dwarfs from her snow white and the seven dwarfs display. Apparently the mail deliverer saw this transpire. Anyway, these things are 2 feet tall and the girls stole "Dopey". [Redacted Name]'s husband got these statues from his mother and is quite upset about the loss of "Dopey". The set is valued around $700. She has pictures of "Dopey" as well.

From: Me
To: Employees
I can not believe this. This is the best story I've ever heard. We're going to win an Emmy! Let's put it in the lead right away. Send the chopper out, too. I won't rest until we've got team coverage. Can we get someone to work the Jesus angle on this? Does God hate lawn dwarfs? Tonight at eleven. Also, I want a flashy graphic created right away: Diabolical Dwarf-napping Duo. I don't care if the Art Department went home. Page someone. We need graphics.

I am now officially an employee at The Mall. I have never worked at a mall before. I am very excited about working at The Mall. It seems fun. I do not have to work at The Mall every day, just some days. Also, they are paying me a lot more than I deserve to earn to work at The Mall.

I like money.

The end.

Congratulations. You're a moron. Unless you have something to do with the signing of my paychecks -- in which case you're very resourceful, sir. Good on you. If you're wondering how those dents got in your front bumper, it's probably because you park directly in front of the employee gate, which makes it impossible for anyone to go in or out without climbing over your hood. But if you want a name, I'll tell you who did it: It was Steve.

Smells of cinnamon, roasting almonds
Children in red velvet
Hair carefully combed
Hastily, merrily, skipping along
Patent leather pitter patter
Gleeful declarations of Santa
Chattering of presents
Parents hurridly follow
Beautiful happy youth
Holidays at The Mall.

...God. I am SO not having kids.

I propose that we change the "Recently Hired" employee postings with "Recently Fired." Let the new folks get to know who they're replacing. "See that, Janet in Sales? Robert really liked Backdraft. And making personal long distance phone calls. Watch your ass."

Co-Worker: "My favorite band? The Goo Goo Dolls."

Me: "HAHAHAHA! Mine's Nickleback."

Him: "HA HA HA HA! HA HA! No wait, no wait, mine's: The Red Hot Chili Peppers!"

Me: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaha! HA HA! Okay, my favorite band is: Coldplay!"

Him: "Coldplay's so obvious. Like the Dave Matthews Band."

Me: "FUCK YOU! YOU LOVE THE DAVE MATTHEWS BAND!"

Him: "HA HAAAA! Oh yeah, well you love Uncle Cracker."

Me: "HA HA! FUCK YOU! You love Savage Garden!"

Him: "HAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU SAID SAVAGE GARDEN! HA HA HA!!"

Co-Worker: "Uh... my favorite band really is The Goo Goo Dolls."

When your hands travel slightly left of the home keys, and you try to type "SOT", it comes out "DOY." I find that highly amusing. But then, I'm an idiot.

IF I HAVE TO WATCH THIS BIZARRE DEAD MIDGET DANCE AROUND WITH FAKE EYELASHES AND A FALSE SENSE OF ENTITLEMENT ONE MORE TIME TODAY I MIGHT POSSIBLY SLIT MY WRISTS.

You ever notice how, sometimes, you can have a funny in-joke with a bunch of co-workers, but as soon as That One Co-Worker gets ahold of it and starts beating it like a dead horse, it suddenly isn't funny? And was never really funny?

And also you want to punch That One Guy?

So, a Blackhawk crashed on Saturday, killing all 12 soldiers aboard. (That's not the dumb part.) (Dumb shit like that happens on a regular basis in Iraq, it's why 80% of Americans might be slightly upset about things if things were slightly easier to get upset about.)

An internet site shows video of the helicopter wreckage, with some sweet Arabic Hip-Hop playing over it, and what I'm assuming is "Allah is great, take that, devil helicopter!" as a narration to the footage. (Take note, Jack Bauer: We shouldn't be afraid of the terrorists knowing how to detonate luggage-sized nukes, we should fear their increasing Final Cut Pro skills.) The Pentagon goes:

(Seriously, are you ready for this?)

The Pentagon goes: "Yeah, that crash might not have been accidental."

YA THINK?

You know how a scent can recall strong memories?

Like, for you, it could be Spring Rain, or Wife's Shampoo, or Fresh Baked Oatmeal Cookies. For me, it's Baby Diarrhea After Strained Peas.

What I'm trying to say here is: the first floor ladies restroom smells funky today.

Everything at work just crashed, so now on top of having to do everything myself, I have to do everything manually. By myself. It would sound sexy if it wasn't pissing me off.

I just had the most peculiar experience.

I was outside, having a smoke, and standing under the lovely shade tree we have planted in our parking lot. A bunch of tiny birds lined up on a lower branch, and started... barking... at me. And they didn't stop until I'd put out my cigarette.

It was the most effective anti-smoking ad I've ever seen.

Reporter Out On Live Shot At New Harry Potter Movie: ...and this movie is based on the last book of the series...

Me: OH MY GOD! NO IT'S NOT! TELL HER THAT!

Producer (on the phone with Reporter): Hey, you said it's the last book, it's not, it's the -- HEY, WHAT BOOK IS IT?

Me: OH MY GOD IT'S THE FIFTH BOOK!

Reporter: ...I'm sorry, I've just been informed that this is the second to last book of the series...

Me: OH MY GOD! NO IT'S NOT! TELL HER IT'S THE FIFTH BOOK!

Producer: I DON'T UNDERSTAND! What book is this movie based on?!?

Me: THE FIFTH ONE! TELL HER IT'S THE FIFTH ONE!

Producer: Well, I'M SORRY, I don't know anything about Harry Potter!

Me: THEN IT'S A GOOD THING YOU WROTE A HUGE STORY AROUND IT, OH MY GOD.

Cue: Phones ringing off the hook with angry viewers.

Was doing the dishes when a glass broke and this happened:

Cost of urgent care: $35
Cost of anti-biotics: $15
Procedures included: getting a tetanus shot, "steri-strip" sutures.
Sleep lost: lots

Final outcome:

We are getting a frakking dishwasher. Chores can kill. Or at the very least, maim.

We are currently discussing whether or not it is company policy to cover public suicide stories. I was under the impression that all suicides are non-stories, unless it's coupled with some other sort of -cide. Apparently it is the policy of our parent newspaper that public suicides are interesting, and therefore reportable. So now we have to figure out whether or not we should provide coverage of a jumper on the third street ---

-- nevermind, he jumped.

Update: I'd been arguing the side that unless it stopped traffic, it's not important, but I was being half-serious. Turns out we appealed to a higher power, and yes, unless it caused some sort of road obstruction that backed up traffic, then no, we don't cover it.

I love when I'm being an unmitigated ass and I turn out to be completely in the right.

Second Update: The guy isn't even dead, they fished him out of the river. The only story here, obviously, is how long it took us to debate whether it was a story.

First Conversation:

me: I'm looking on ebay for a gown to wear to the opera. Most of the dresses are either mother-of-the-bride dresses, which are fugly, or quincenera dresses, which are double fugly.

Piehole: What? You dont want to go dressed as a meringue?

me: Well, I do want to wear a big freaking gown. But not like, a hot pink gown.

Piehole: ack!

me: Seriously. Bad gowns. Welcome to 1963, now with more beads. Or, my favorite, the "I Went Blind On the Way To the Dressmakers" gown.

Piehole: holy SHIT!

me: One word. BOWS. It says "pink train" on the item description, but it should say "pink train WRECK."

Piehole: That's just... hilarious.

me: This dress is so horrible they blurred the girl's face. That's like a dress you buy a four year old when she wants to be Belle for Halloween. And there's a green one, too.

Piehole: oh... my... god...

me: I FOUND IT! I found the dress! Yes! This is the one! It's made out of the pelt from Clifford The Big Red Dog.

Piehole: Are those... FEATHERS?

me: I have no idea. It makes me laugh, though. I just found your dress! Pretty pink princess!

Piehole: HA HA!

me: This is being sold as a prom dress. If I had tried to wear this to prom, my mother would have never let me out of the house.

Piehole: err....... maybe its for the whore's prom?

me: I love how when you remove "formal" from the dress search you get muumuus in the results. Too bad I don't still fit in my homecoming dress. (HA!) You should've seen it. It was ALL SEQUINS.

Piehole: HAHA!!

me: AAAAAAAAAUGH MY EYES!

Piehole: OH GOOD GOD! Who is making these dresses?!?!

me: I know, it's awesome. It's like an explosion of bad taste. Speaking of explosions: Terminator 2 exploded on me. I call this look: "The T-1000 had an accident." If I had the money I would actually buy that dress just for that joke. But it's a $600 dress. This is why i'm not allowed to win the lottery.

Piehole: WTF?! They want HUNDREDS of dollars for hokey dresses? We're in the wrong business! We can totally do hokey.

me: I can do PIZZAZZ, if that's what you mean. And now I want to make a hot pink dress with gummy bears all over it. It'd sell like gangbusters.

Second Conversation:

me: I think someone is running a sweatshop on ebay. I just found a bunch of gowns for $11, but they are "custom order." Meaning, you're paying $11 for someone to make you a dress from a pattern. And the shipping is $150. Because the seller's location is "?? China".

laura: Definitely a sweat shop. Also, the dress will probably kill you.

me: From the item description: "A Good-fitting formal clothes can cause you bright-colored moving so we will proved your the best dress at pains." Well, I do want the best dress at bright colored pains.

TEN MINUTES LATER

me: The weirdest thing just happened. Earlier I found a dress that made me laugh because it looked like Terminator 2. And now the chinese sweatshop ladies say they can make it for $19. It's like they're spying on my gchats.

laura: are you going to get it?

me: No! They're charging $190 for shipping and don't speak English. Plus, it's ugly as fuck. Oh man. And there's more than one of these chinese seamstress rackets. Because here is another pocket of listings, only with better English and cheaper shipping rates. I'd just been assuming since they all were selling similar dresses that they were all the same person, but now I'm looking at the seller names... which are all different. Did they just get ebay in China or something?

Conclusion:

I should totally pay a Chinese lady to make me a Terminator dress. I definitely think that's how the apocalypse starts.

me: Whatcha doin'?

coworker: Dubbing this story about a little kid who fell in a pond.

me: Didn't we do that story a while ago?

coworker: He fell in the pond like two weeks ago.

me: Yeah, we did this story.

coworker: We might have. The kid was trying to save his dog.

me: Yeah, we had an interview with the guy who pulled him out of the pond.

coworker: We could have done an interview earlier.

me: Yeah, with a doctor. Or, wait. I'm thinking of an episode of E.R.

I should just create a category called "I Am A Moron."

Most days I hate my job, but some days I get to see fuzzy cute things! Like baby sea otters! And baby St. Bernards!

(Click either photo to embiggen.)

On my little intercom/communicator at work, I have four "quick contacts," which are direct buttons for the people I supposedly would need to get in touch with right away. There's no room to add any more quick contacts. So I have to click around a list of all the contacts on the circuit in order to get to my husband's intercom. And if he doesn't answer, after about ten seconds his number disappears and I have to go all the way around the list again.

He's number #54. I have to push a button 53 times in order to ask him what he wants to order for dinner.

We also have phones, but who wants to use a phone when you can use the communicator? Pff.

There was a reporter outside my door talking loudly to someone else about St. Louis. So I sang CLANG CLANG CLANG WENT THE TROLLEY until she went away.

*adds check mark to list*

I think on the day I quit not only am I sending water skiing squirrel video to all the video placeholders, I may tackle a reporter during a newsroom live shot.

So, not only did someone choreograph a dance tribute to benefit Japanese Earthquake victims to the song "Landslide," but our A.P. thought that that needed to be the nats off the top of the V.O.

Honey, No times 2.

I did not get the job I was hoping to get. But I do get to go on a free helicopter ride tonight. Wheee! My Indian name is Constantly Settles.

UPDATE: I do NOT get to go on the helicopter ride. I also did not get the Facebook user name I wanted. But anyway I have the Facebooks now: Brain Confetti Art!