Today’s Google Doodle is celebrating the 100th birthday of my cool French guy, photographer R. Doisneau.
“The marvels of daily life are so exciting; no movie director can arrange the unexpected that you find in the street.” ~ Monsieur Robert Doisneau
Reporter commenting on the stories that get the highest web hits, coming up with the perfect news story: “A cute kid and his accomplice dog go on a crime spree while trafficking in pot — and in a blizzard.”
Photographer: “I come here for the intelligent conversation. I stay for the smut.”
Copy editor 1: “Redundancy is our enemy.” Copy editor 2: “You can say that again.”
Reporter: “Oh! You smell good, what perfume is that?” Editor: “I think it’s eau du Redbull.”
On approaching ice storm: “Hoping for the worst, fearing for the best.”
Mother to son: “Honey, I’m a journalist. I’m allowed to say words like shit; it’s part of our cred.”
City editor: “My problem is, I don’t get off early enough to get drunk.”
Managing Editor: “We need a little more text to fill this space. If only two more arrests had happened.” Editor-in-Chief: “All right, people. Let’s make this happen.”
Reporter 1: “If you can turn water into wine, I’m going to start bringing jugs when we hang out.” Reporter 2: “Thus far, I’m afraid I can only turn bullshit into articles.”
Reporter to another who was not drinking caffeine: “Maybe you shouldn’t see it as coffee. Maybe you should see it as a vaccine against being a bitch.”
Columnist: “It’d be nice to have some tradition in the newsroom.” Graphics Editor: “We do – hard news and unabashed love for boozing and schmoozing, apparently.”
Engaged reporter debating whether to change her name after getting married: “I’m concerned about what it will do to my SEO.”
Reporter, who had to interview difficult strip club owner: “I was going to take a lap dance for the team.”
Photographer, talking about a new building next door: “That used to be where we could see the sunset. Now there’s no sunset.” Reporter: “I feel like there’s a journalism metaphor in there somewhere.”
Reporter 1 complaining about the Internet’s growing influence: “It’s the worst invention ever. All it’s done is give a voice to every asshole out there.” Reporter 2: “Yeah, it used to be only we newspaper assholes who had a voice.”
“I ain’t writing shit till I get some caffeine.”
Reporter on local town turning road into sledding hill: “I hope they make it slick enough to make it dangerous.”
Copy editor 1: “We have to rerun the Licensed to Wed tomorrow because we ran them today under Divorces.” Copy editor 2: “Anticipation.”
Print reporter returning from assignment: “I’ve tweeted it. I have my video and B-roll. I even have a podcast. Now if only I could figure out what my story is.”
Reporter: “It’s either Christmas trees and children or blood and gore. I love the holidays.”
Editor: “Did you want to do this story on Justin Bie-” Reporter: “No.”
Source: (Overheard in the Newsroom)
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GB is an unapologetically unreconstructed hippie and devoutly politically incorrect. She sold her soul to Guns 'N' Roses in the 90s, bought her first good electric guitar from Slash's ex-wife in Detroit, and never looked back. She /sometimes/ writes fiction (you figured it out after the "Slash's ex-wife in Detroit" part, didn't you?), nonfiction, and some things she can’t quite define. Also, she can turn bullshit into articles. She’s been published in her obscure blog, and two or three local newspapers, leaving behind digital traces like glitter. Like most snobbish wiseguys, she also pretends to know everything about everything, until questioned. :D
stories are everywhere 