Romancing the stoned
Love will tear us apart. Or at least it will, if Sam Snort is involved.
Sam Snort, 15 Feb 2007
Time to stock up on service-station flowers and wine, for ‘tis the day of Saint Valentine.
Alright, that one’s probably not gonna get me a job at Hallmark but, for sweet fuck’s sake, could everybody please get a grip on themselves! Starting with the Hot Press editorial staff.
When Niall Stokes’ nubile young assistant rang Snort Towers to inform me that this issue of hotpress was to be specially themed for Valentine’s Day, I could barely mask my contempt.
“Specially themed for Valen-fucken-tine’s?” I snorted (obviously). “What fluffy-minded fiendishness is this? Why are you calling me? Has Stokes gone off his fucking rocker?”
“No, Mr. Snort,” she replied, nervously. “He just asked me to remind you to, erm, make sure that your column for this issue was about, erm... sex.”
I let those words hang in the air for a while so we could both marvel at the sheer unadulterated stupidity of this request.
Eventually I said, “So basically you’re calling me – Samuel J. Snort – to make sure that my column will be about sex?”
“Yes... em, that’s correct, Mr. Snort,” she squeaked.
“And can you ever remember a time when my fabulous column wasn’t about sex?” I demanded. “Have I ever ONCE in the 30 long and hard years I’ve been contributing to this printed organ delivered an article that didn’t in some way, shape or form concern itself with themes of shagging, fucking, sucking, humping, spanking, wanking, swinging, flinging or just generally doing the nasty?”
“Erm... well... no,” she whimpered.
“So why the fuck are you calling me then?” I snapped.
“Well, you were just on the... on the... on the... list,” she stammered.
“The list?” I said. “Well, that’s just fucking lovely. Tell Stokes that Sam Snort says that Valentine’s Day is for pussies!”
“Erm... okay,” she said.
“LOTS OF PUSSIES!!!” I roared, before slamming the phone down.
Seriously, folks, you just can’t get the staff these days. Ringing up and asking Samuel J. Snort would he be sure to mention sex in his column is something akin to a Principal Management minion ringing up Bono and saying something like, “Oh, by the way, Paul McGuinness just wanted me to remind you to sing some songs when you’re on stage tonight.”
Page 1/3 <Previous 1 2 3 Next>
©Hot Press 2011. Why be a member? | Terms of Service | Privacy Policy