Where would we all be without the Post's front-page headlines? I knew yesterday as soon as I heard the Spitzer news that the Post's crack headline-writing team would spring into action. Those guys are the Chuck Norris of the Copy Desk. One of the most fun things about working at the Post was savoring the paper's fantastic headlines. On a particularly slow news day, the "wood" (slang for the front page of a tabloid) blared a story about Carol Channing's divorce from her longtime husband, in which she charged that her husband of 41 years had only had sex with her once or twice. TThe Post splashed a photo of Channing doing a comic shrug on the cover. The subhed at the top of the page read:
No sex for 40 years
And the big, all-caps hed?:
HELL NO, DOLLY!
How can you not love it? The Post has its faults, heaven knows, but it's such a pleasure to read given how solemn so much American journalism is. One of the Post's virtues is that it doesn't take itself too seriously. It obviously doesn't; it hired Your Working Boy, dinnit?
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Uncaped Crusader.
Nien!
or:
"You gotta be Spitzin' me?"
Thomas Aquinas: The Daily Show did actually use "Spitzer Swallows", among many others.
AMH:
"You gotta be Spitzin' me?"
That's what she said.
I agree with sigilaris--the picture should have been a head shot of Mr. Spitzer, and left her out of it.
Then it would have been hilarious.
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