SUNDAY, APRIL 6:
Gustavo Arellano posts this blog about Reggie reporter Tom Berg’s ink-stained blowjob of a story on OC developer (and pedophile protector, and valued Reggie advertiser) William Lyon, who's about to fly a B-17 aeroplane from Orange County to Washington DC. Berg follows it up Friday with yet another piece—that’s a lot of swallowing, Tom; your tonsils must be awfully sore—on Lyon’s DC arrival. So if Dillow is the Bootlicker, does this make Berg the Lyonlicker? We're just asking!
MONDAY, APRIL 7:
In a huge two-page spread—slow day in the Life section—the Reggie announces a new staff-written blog for moms, and a companion blog for daddys, which we think is this, but we could be wrong. We check both of them out, and it's what we expected: lots of sappy, emasculated stories about how wuuuunderful everyone's stupid, spoiled brats are, occasionally veering off into what the Reg thinks is “edgy” (i.e., lots of poop and exploding diarrhea references), and everything so sugary-sweet that people will get diabetes just from reading. Bonus: easy grist for future Reg-O-Meters!
TUESDAY, APRIL 8:
The Reggie runs this Lisa Benson cartoon on its editorial page, so completely-batshit-crazy-insane that it verges on Mike Shelton territory. Because, as you'll see after the click, nothing will gain you easy entry into the blessed, peaceful kingdom of Christian heaven quite like deadly munitions….
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9:
Gordon Dillow actually apologizes for gratuitous bootlicking. I’ll defer to R. Scott Moxley on this one, who should be posting shortly. Moxley? Moxley?
THURSDAY, APRIL 10
What’s more depressing—the fact that the latest question asked in a Reggie online poll is “Do you think Priscilla Presley’s face is fabulous, fake, forgettable or fine for a 62-year old,” or that, as of this writing, 387 Reggie loyalists who clearly have nothing better to do with their sad, sorry lives actually voted in it?
And yet, it could be worse. At least the Reggie hasn’t lately been so desperate to fill the space between their erectile dysfunction and hooker ads that they would resort to that hoariest of journalistic clichés—the story on the death of the World’s Oldest Living Person. (Newsflash to Reggie eds: THERE WILL ALWAYS BE A WORLD’S OLDEST LIVING PERSON! THERE’S A FUCKING INFINITE SUPPLY OF ‘EM!) No, as much as we snark, the Reggie would never, ever stoop . . .