Here comes the Pulitzer Prize Patrol with a balloon bouquet and a giant novelty check: KMBC Channel 9 scored quite a journalistic coup with this interview of KMBC Channel 9 anchor Larry Moore, in which he absolutely blows the lid off tomato gardening. How did they manage to get that interview? Journalism! YOU HAVE NO IDEA how deep this "summer tomato" story goes. If KMBC Channel 9 keeps following the money or the trail of organic fertilizer or whatever, they're going to uncover more than they ever bargained for. I managed to get an interview with a top-secret anonymous Pitch insider named "Shmustin Shmendall" who says this "home grown tomato" business is all a cover for some pretty serious shit that important people will kill to keep quiet. By executing an SQL injection hack, we gained access to to KMBC's Web server and issued some shell commands and uncovered this Larry Moore blog entry where he lays out the whole tomato garden plot. WARNING: You will see things you can't un-see. 8MM, you guys.
ONE HUNDRED BAGS OF POPCORN!!!!! It's been quite a season for heavy-duty soul-searching and a reappraisal of priorities. I used to be an atheist. Then, after a bad public huffing experience, subsequent arrest and the publication of my spraypaint-covered mugshot in The Kansas City Star, I became a born-again Christian. At the time, I was really mad at Mike Hendricks for printing that mugshot, but now I can say through gritted teeth and a similarly gritted sense of suppressed resentment: Mike, I forgive you.
I used to think I didn't care about the Kansas City Royals. Now I worry about them when they go on the road.
Finally, I used to know the formula for Star Trek: Think up a crew of effete, prancing tea drinkers who have no sense of humor, quote Shakespeare and act ostentatiously polite to each other and then hire the wimpiest available actors to play them. I'm still putting the finishing touches on a hypothetical Aristotelian dialectic in which you suck in a lungful of albuterol bronchodilator from your inhaler and then in this sneering nasally voice, you say, "Captain Sisko could totally kick your stupid ass," and then I say, "Rene Auberjonois, LeVar Burton, Wil Wheaton and Robert Picardo would all lose trying to kick their own asses. Game. Set. Match. Checkmate. Uno. Basketball." That's a rule of basketball, right? You have to say "Basketball!" or your shot doesn't count? Anyway, as if I hadn't already won this argument forcefully enough, this picture is the rhetorical equivalent of strangling you with your own intestines, Story of Ricky-style:
Mouth-breather in a miniskirt FTW. I mean, FTL. As you're probably aware at this point, against all probability, somebody has actually made a good Star Trek movie. There was not one single quotation of Shakespeare. Nobody had an evil twin. There were no lengthy speeches during which the characters said overly nice things about each other. The movie actually mocked Star Trek conventions by flamboyantly killing a guy in a red shirt and having Kirk fuck a green chick. HAHA, I'm a movie critic. I wear sweaters and seriously concern myself with what your mom would enjoy watching at the theater. Here is a picture of me:
HAHAHA! Sorry, you guys, it won't happen again.