GREETINGS FROM THE ANGRY FREELANCER




So how about this for an icebreaker. I once offered to wax my balls for a story. Not exactly my proudest moment as a journalist but hey, I was young and needed the money. While thankfully no one took me up on that smooth idea - I believe I pitched it to several women's mags with the offer to be a guinea pig in the brave new world of spa sanctioned manscaping or something like that - I have to imagine an unnaturally shiny scrotal sac would've been much more pleasurable than a torturous assignment I reluctantly accepted earlier this summer. On a Sunday morning in early June, I fielded a call from a frequent client asking if I'm free to head up to a small town upstate for the day for an assignment. Desperate for cash but clearly not the full details, I accept it quicker than you can say NAMBLA. The gig - a 12 hour concert sponsored by the area's raddest Top 40 station featuring the dulcet singing of a former boy band member and a bunch of other one-hit wonders performing in centerfield of the local minor-league baseball stadium. My assignment - find out if the sensitive balladeer is traveling with any new possible romantic interests. While I certainly appreciated the humor in watching slovenly parents shrug it off as their five-year-olds sang rapper T-Pain's "I'm in Luv With a Stripper," word for word, it wasn't exactly the cleanest feeling being the only grown man in a crowd of preteens. I think the highlight came when a cotton candy toting nine-year-old asked me in glee, "Isn't this the best day ever?" Um, yeah, if I was John Mark Karr. So after ten hours of listening to frosted hair coiffed DJ's with names like Scotty Mac and the Woodman ask the crowd if they were ready to 'get their groove on with [said entertainer],' the man himself finally takes the stage. I'm nearly trampled by an avalanche of screaming TRL viewers and their obese, bad perm, jean short sporting moms while I try to determine if any of the lovelies on the side of the stage are ready to help him get over his recent breakup. Even though the lothario came and left alone, I did find out that T-Pain and his crew were trying to pick up mad hoes at the KFC post-show. Yep, this is why I got into journalism.

So how bout 'it fellow freelancers? Which assignments made you want to rip out your short and curlies? Hit me at angryfreelancer@yahoo.com. Until next time....