How The Other Half Lives (or, Why the public thinks most journalists, particularly those of the television variety, are insular jackasses): Aaron Brown’s golfing. Space shuttle disintegrates. Aaron Brown tells his bosses he can’t get his overpaid ass to work ’cause he’s playing golf, and tells a reporter afterwards that it was okay ’cause he didn’t have much fun at it ’cause of all those people being sad and stuff. At the moment I’ve got a seriously disturbing case of bronchitis, a deadline in two hours (along with all the other deadlines I’ve hit in the past three days), around 60 hours of research logged on an 800-word item, and the plaintive wish that Ted would come take his company back and haul bitch prima donnas like Brown to the Atlanta woodshed. It could only help. [UPDATE: Now Brown’s saying it didn’t happen, and he was… um… doing stuff. Reason, excuse, or PR retrenchment?]


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