I was fired last week from my job as a reporter at a daily newspaper: a fitting antonym for the situation:
"I ruefully learned the lesson that integrity trumps money and is never an afterthought."But the firing, while monetarily crushing, won't effectively execute my career, as the reasoning was fairly bullshit: a point that has been confirmed by a number of sources who have been in the news business for 20-plus years at major metros, and understand that good journalism is contingent upon not catering to advertisers.
But that's neither here nor there; I'm fired, and so eventually I can escape this town and the thick stench of eaten asshole that seems to permeate through city offices, real estate development headquarters and other such places that house people who run this town. They all have their tongues in each others rectums, if you guys didn't catch that. Not sure if anyone has reached orgasm yet; will follow up, though.
Anyway, I've been writing almost every day for the past three years, and I've grown accustomed to exploring the written (typed?) word on a consistent basis. This fired blog is my new outlet, and it pays even worse than the last employer.
I spent the ass-end of last week feeling sorry for myself, so this week I made a to-do list. All will be accomplished, come Friday. Or next week, who knows:
(Click to make it bigger) I'm particularly excited about that letter to Gucci Mane. We'll see how it turns out. A little more background, the blog is named Kill City, after a little-heard Iggy Pop and James Williamson track, which is actually fantastic and deserves a listen. So I've uploaded it, and you should jam it. It's sick.Iggy Pop & James Williamson - "Kill City"