Quake in fear Queen's-English spewing, Strunck-and-White quoting, ardently fact-checking sheep everywhere... the universe's greatest mud-slinging, truth-burnishing *Rancor-man* has finally arrived!
I'm YELLER JOURNALIST, hear me roar! (for a lie sounds just like the truth if shouted loudly enough!)
This reporter's crashing through your sunny suburban bay window like the Sunday Supplement wrapped round a tire iron! Beware reality checkers... if truth is stranger than fiction, it's only because this reporter wasn't on hand to slant the shit out of it!
I've been called a criminal, a vagabond, a scamp; thankfully few have called me a newspaperman... I was the one who opened the vault to Geraldo Rivera's integrity, and found it empty (and if it hadn't been empty, I'd've cleaned it out myself!). I was the reporter who replaced Connie Chung with an android, so as to convince Maury Povitch to only to make, but also star in, A Current Affair.
How disgraceful, despicable, deplorable am I? I put industrial solvent in Chuck Sheen's Tiger-Blood Balm, and virtually threw Star Jones (no mean feat back then) to The View.
'Nuff said.
So take heed, again, and know, again: YELLER JOURNALIST is on the scene...
The scene will never know what hit it!
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