(Washington Post.)
"Among the clutter on the coffee table, I found my 4-year-old’s Party Popper, a bright yellow gun that fired confetti. For some reason, I held the gun up to my eye and looked down the barrel, the way Yosemite Sam always does.
It looked unloaded.
Then, for some reason, I pulled the trigger.
When I got to the ER, I had a swollen face, metal-foil confetti in my hair and a faint odor of gun smoke. Finally, the doctor could see me.
“I shot myself in the eye with a glitter gun,” I said. I showed him the Party Popper, which I had brought with me, in case he wanted to send it off to the National Institute of Morons for further study."
BWAHAHAHAHAHAH.
"A Trump spokesman later offered the explanation that the resort was actually doing the foundation a favor, by storing its art free of charge. Tax experts were not impressed by this reasoning.
“It’s hard to make an IRS auditor laugh,” one told me. “But this would do it.”
And then there's that video.
"In the meantime, I had to start writing. The story was easy to compose, since much of it was simply repeating what Trump had said. The only problem was the bad words.
The Post is a fairly fusty place when it comes to profanity. If a reporter tries to get a bad word into a story, the word is usually forwarded to top editors, who consider it with the gravity and speed that the Vatican applies to candidates for sainthood. That unwieldy system assumed that bad words would attack one at a time, like bad guys in a kung-fu movie.
But in this story, we were dealing with a whole army of bad words at once. The system was overloaded. When Trump said, “Grab ’em by the p----,” for instance, the editors weren’t sure people would be able to guess right away what “p----” was. They added a letter at the end: “p---y.”
Other words required a ruling from the bosses.
“Go find out about ‘tits’!” I heard one editor tell another, while the story was being edited — Trump had used the word in criticizing a woman’s appearance. The second editor left to find a higher-ranking editor who could make a ruling. “ ‘Tits’ is all right,” he said when he returned.
On Twitter I watched myself become a minor celebrity — all because of a story that had, essentially, fallen into my lap.
“My wife says that David @Fahrenthold is a time traveler from the future trying to carefully fix the darkest timeline. I believe her,” wrote James Church , a professor at Austin Peay State University."