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In This Issue

• The New Spec Editorial Page
• A Sojourn to M’Ville
• Fear and Loathing with Jim Henson
• I Can Be Homeless Too, Mommy
• Letters to the Feditor
• She Says, “To-MAH-to,” He Says, “Bll-RR-gh.”
• The Hobo Lottery
• Fractal Tetris
• News on the Party Front(al Nudity)
• Everything is Love and Theft
• Loving the Mailer-Daemon
• Community Time
• “They” Continue to Keep Natural Cures From You
• Fed Bash - NOT! LOLOLomg
• Plagiarismo in Two Lines with Things Like That
• Senator Kennedy Surprises Attendants of "Ted Bash"
• A Letter from Our Sudoku Editor
• Hinden-Fed
• South-by-Southwest Tour Diary
• THEY Watch
• Staff of 21.7

Journalism is the most awesome of all professions. And, within journalism, there are many great jobs to be had. None, though, rival that of the community journalist.

Bankers, lawyers, doctors—those guys just sit around in offices all day long, drinking coffee and being lame. Not so for the community journalist. He’s always on his feet. Or, should I say, on his company bike! That’s right, almost all small newspapers outfit their soldiers (that’s newsie talk for reporters) with sweet bikes. A community newsman and his bike are unstoppable. When I’m in my zone, peddling hard on my three speed, I can cover an arts fair, a community board meeting and a school closing all in under seven hours. With pictures!

But community journalism isn’t just about the excitement. It’s also about the ladies.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. "Broadcast journalists and the hotshots at the big metropolitan dailies are the guys who score all the hot babes." Well, that’s not entirely fair. While we’ve all seen Anchorman and can agree that Will Ferrell was quite handsome, if only in a boyish way, broadcast journalists just can’t hold a candle to the rugged appeal of the community newsman. Look at it this way. Who do the women go for: the dandy-boy officer or the brawny enlisted man just back from the action?

In fact, just the other day I was flirting with this hot little number, talking up my community-j game. We were waiting in line at the Super-Duper and I made a witty observation about the yeast infection ointment she was carrying. Playing hard-to-get, she got all modest, saying stuff like, “I don’t know you” and “Please leave me alone.”

Unperturbed, I leaned in close and, in a sly baritone, whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry if I offended you, but you see…I’m a community journalist.” You should have seen the expression on her face. Her eyes opened wide and her lower lip started quivering. Going in for the kill, I reached into my pocket to show her the press credentials I fashioned on my home computer. She got so excited she ran right out of the store! Believe it or not, responses like that are just run of the mill.

Not only do community journalists score all the chicks, we also get the juiciest stories. Just the other day, I was covering a school board meeting and, guess what? They’re thinking of making Peterson Elementary a K through 8 school! That’s right, Peterson Elementary might just get three extra grades added onto it. Do I smell tension between the little kiddies and the middle schoolers? Peterson’s a powder-keg and I think you know where I’ll be when it goes off.

The juicy stories, the ladies, the awesome bike. Yeah, being a community journalist is pretty much the best thing you can be. After I got my Associate degree, I knew I was going places but I had no idea. My mom still can’t believe it. She keeps going on about what a smart kid I used to be, asking “What happened?” over and over again. I mean, I’m surprised too. I knew I was a smart kid but I still can’t believe I made it into the community-j game. Watch how far I’ll go.