There’s journalism for you.

That’s a tough call. I can’t bite the hand that I’ve desperately been trying to get to feed me, and this thing goes right up to the highest echelons.

Go ahead, Baxxter, make enemies–it’s fun. You can utilize your aptitude to ‘out fucking swear’ them.

Because it’s generally assumed that, anytime anything exciting happens, the protagonists are men.

What was the pregnant woman doing there anyway?

[Daphne – Probably just passing the time of day on a Sunday evening. Her father-in-law, now dead, owned the place and her husband, now dead, would have been there helping out.]

Right now I’ve a double dose of rage. My name is to appear on a report which is replete with Manglish syntax, written by assorted experts and consultants. I refuse to be associated with such blatant Maltese idiocy, but there’s nothing I can do about it, short of making enemies of all my colleagues.

TOPPLES

“Lopsides” is not a verb. FUCKING MORONS.

[Daphne – Language, language. I share your sentiments, of course.]

so?!