I’m madder than a senior citizen who accidentally updated from trusty old Windows 95 to one of those fancy new computers that don’t make any sense over the fact that the interweb keeps lying to me and my editor always has to set me straight.
Look, you all know that the Screecher pretty much believes everything he reads in print, online, and on the old Zenith in his living room, so you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I switched to an all-asparagus diet the day I read that it is the miracle cure for cancer.
That’s right, I threw away all my cucumbers in response to an email that said I had to start eating those vegetables pronto if I want to keep Screeching.
I immediately told my lovely wife Sharon to head to the vegetable stand and pick up as much asparagus as she could fit in the car. Then I called my broker and demanded he dump all my cucumber futures and replace them with any and all asparagus commodities that we could get our hands on. Since this stuff cures cancer, I want to get in while the getting is good, and make a windfall the second my column gets out there and everybody realizes that this funny veggie is more valuable than gold.
All that done, I wrote up a column explaining this miracle cure and preventative measure and fired it off to my editor. My plan in place, I sat back contentedly and waited for the money train to roll in.
It didn’t take long for the phone to ring:
“Screecher here,” I answered, as I always do.
“Carmine,” came the voice on the other end. “Did you verify these facts about asparagus?”
“What, verify? I read it in one of my free-mails,” I answered confidently.
“So you didn’t talk to any doctors, lawyers, or nutritionists?” he asked.
“Never mind. Look, if I wanted a column about miracle cures on the internet, I’d hire my uncle Pete.”
“Your uncle what?”
“I fact check for him.”
So now he tells me that I have to make phone calls, or look stuff up on the Google before I send a column.
Of course, I’ll do nothing of the sort. Him not fact checking for me is like the teller at the bank explaining that I can use the ATM machine outside instead of bother her with my business. Well, if they want to keep their jobs, they better let me do what I do. I’m an economic engine! Without me, no one would have to build electric scooters!
So if you end up getting an e-mail that says you should eat asparagus on a regular basis, don’t let me stop you. It’s probably part of a well-balanced breakfast. But I wouldn’t know, because I hate the stuff.
Which is bad because now I have to unload the truckload of asparagi my wife is screaming at me about!
Screech at you next week!
Read Carmine's Screech every Sunday on BrooklynPaper.com for the foreseeable future. E-mail him at [email protected]. And comment how awsome he is below. Really. We're tired of this negativity. So all those Carmine lovers need to speak up!