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1. I will spend the entire time trying not to collapse into a sleepy clump on the floor. Let's go over the schedule for the newspaper convention on Friday and Saturday:
Friday, 9 a.m. I'm not sure who this guy is, but the name "Jock" makes me think of the seminar as some sort of wildlife expedition. Let it be known that I think my feature stories already sparkle enough. Any more sparkle in them, and our newspaper's elderly readers would be blinded for life. That is, if they're not blind already. You know, from being so old and all. God, I hope my editor doesn't read this. If he does, I'll have to go into the old "Oh, I was just kidding, I love old people" bit. I hate having to go into that bit.
Friday, 10:30 a.m. This seminar is labeled as a "free-wheeling discussion open to all". Translation: they will force me to participate. This is pointless, because everyone knows participation is stupid and unnecessary. The whole reason why we invented the Internet is so we could avoid participation. Cripes.
Friday, noon If I have to listen to Jock at 9 a.m., does that mean I can skip listening to him at lunch, and watch TV in my room instead? Yes. Yes it does.
Friday, 2:30 p.m. This means I'll have two and a half hours after lunch to pick up chicks. Judging by the way most women in print journalism look, this portion of the day may not go well. The legal update will be boring, but maybe if I sit in the back, I can amuse myself by pulling my arm into my shirt and pretending I'm the drummer from Def Leppard.
Friday, 7 p.m. Have you ever seen Tina and Lena's show? I have, and I would rather live for a week inside Oprah Winfrey's anus than watch it again. I would rather have my groin crushed by a large ferris wheel than watch their show. Anything described as "wholesome", "good clean fun" or "Minnesota-style" always means "not funny". People who do "good clean comedy" should all be put on a small island together, so they can annoy each other to death.
Saturday, 7:52 a.m. to noon While there's not an actual seminar called "A whole bunch of boring crap", all of them probably should be called that. Of course, then you wouldn't be able to decipher one seminar from the other. Not that you can anyway. (long pause as Paul's brain completes the special ed class it so desperately needs) Okay, I'm going to bed. It's late, and I've got a lot of sleepiness to work through tomorrow.
2 parts Godiva liqueur
Tastes just like an Andes chocolate mint. Daaaaaamn, that's good stuff.
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The newspaper convention starts today, and it'll be just like going to school again. The only difference is that now it's conferences instead of classes. Much like high school and college, one of two things will happen at each seminar:
