The f**k jar
Even with the giant deadline looming, I still have to do my duties as the national blog committee chairwoman for the professional organization upon which I'm on the board. *sigh* So, I've had to begin scouring journalistic type blogs, websites, etc. for pertinent information regarding the field. Today, I ran across one that is completely inappropriate for the professional blog, but completely hilarious.
If you've ever worked in a newsroom or known a journalist; well, you'll know we all cuss like sailors. The old timers drank heavily, smoked too much and were typically womanizers (or sluts) and usually wound up divorced. Ok, I drink; I'm as slutty as a married gal can be and unfortunately, I wound up divorced. Although I can attest to never banging anyone that I worked with (despite thinking about it upon occasion!) LOL
So, this guy had a newsroom with a jar you filled up whenever you dropped an F bomb. Good Lord. If I did that at home, I could pay off my car in just a few months between my husband and me. :)
If you've ever worked in a newsroom or known a journalist; well, you'll know we all cuss like sailors. The old timers drank heavily, smoked too much and were typically womanizers (or sluts) and usually wound up divorced. Ok, I drink; I'm as slutty as a married gal can be and unfortunately, I wound up divorced. Although I can attest to never banging anyone that I worked with (despite thinking about it upon occasion!) LOL
So, this guy had a newsroom with a jar you filled up whenever you dropped an F bomb. Good Lord. If I did that at home, I could pay off my car in just a few months between my husband and me. :)
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