|
|
'*Don,* his nostrils flaring in the white hot heat of the red top powerhouse newsroom that he knew, for a fact, would soon be his for the taking, as if it were a drunken doe-eyed intern that was waiting for him, spread-eagled, in the editor's chair (he'd do her first, he surmised, and then he'd get to the real goods, oh yes, he would - this time around, there would be no mistakes, no quarter given, and no distractions at all, in the stationary cupboard at this year's Christmas party, all that was behind him now... though how easily, he reflected, had it been to escape the charges, when you thought about it...) hit the magic button at the edge of the screen, and then in less than the time it takes to tell, dear reader, shamelessly whored out his ouevre all over the interweb, yet again...
He then had a strange dream.
And then he woke up... Christ, what had he been doing? He was there yes, in the editor's chair, the one he'd always coveted, but what was he doing with his 'John Thomas' out? And why was that digicam still focused on it, and still whirring away like a baleful red eye? And why was he still logged on to that particular website, that one, he knew, to which his... addiction (was that too strong a word? He didn't know, really,) was potentially, arguably, affecting his career in a negative way?
Don was stumped.
'Bollocks,' he thought 'Bollocks to all of them.'
He reached over to the drawer in his (soon-to-be-history, he reminded himself,) editor's desk, and then, just for a laugh, he decided to check out the latest developments on the aforementioned website...
After that, Don would always maintain that his hair had turned white because of an incident to do with his son, and a... snake ('it was a bloody boa constrictor,') in the local zoo on a family outing, but nevertheless, and notoriously, anyone who expressed an interest after that in the works of Grant Morrison, or Dr Who, or teh Magick was, in an interview with Don, on a hiding to nothing.
How he would wish, in years to come, that discretion had in fact proved the better part of valour, when it had come to his decision to post 'Little Don's' image on Barbelith that time...' |
|
|