Every day was harder than the last. It was impossible to write obituaries every single day and not want to kill yourself and hate your job. All I ever wanted was to be a journalist. And now I am. But it sucks. My dreams of being a reporter were crushed.
Um, annoying? But also interesting. Superman. Lois Lane. Um…1940’s. Noir. Trenchcoat. Fedora. Gray and black and white. Gritty. Cigarettes. Spiderman! SUPERHEROES! Jamenson.
this is more than a job for me it is a lifestyle. i am devoted and i only speak the truth as i am paid to. not a very well pay i am only paying for myself. but now i am given a choice by one named scott jay. his offer is to report lies…they are his businesses lies which is an unloyal thing but the money… its legitimate and bountiful.
The reporters can be very selfish. They will do anything to get their story, but I can kind of get where they’re coming from. They just need to do their job, and that is kind of what their job entails. I would like reporters to…. you know, focus more on the happier parts of lives, and not just the “someone got murdered”, “a home was broken into” or “someone’s face has been eaten” more often.
They are devious horrible people who have very few morals and should be shot on sight. if you look at the crap they pulled in the UK between phone tapping and deleting messages, and then they hide behind the cash of that prick Murdock. At least that red headed bitch has been arrested and hopefully they will crucify the bitch.
And I was forced to tell the world everything they didn’t want to hear. A shooting, a murder, a robbery, a campaign. All the scum of the world forced into me and out my mouth and into a microphone.
My last experience as a reporter was last summer in Alaska. I really enjoyed interviewing and later on site visit to the cell phone tower installers at Wrangell St Alias National Park.
I once wanted to be a reporter. A reporter is someone who relays information, lets everyone know what’s going on. But no one ever pays attention to the reporter, just the information. A reporter is kind of invisible.
she had curly blond hair and she was walking in the rain cursing the fact that she had to do this interview. a motorcycle rides by. “how on earth can somebody ride a motorcycle in the rain.?”
I’ve always thought about being one. But, oh, how annoying the life must be like. Perhaps the asking people questions, having to be at important events. It just seems so tedious. I wouldn’t do with it what I should anyways. Or I’d hope Spiderman wou
is someone that is meant to report truths but really, truthfully they are the governments puppets. conforming to only report what society’ wants to hear’. really everything they write could be seen as bullshit.
dream job. too bad it’s not reality. thanks life, and ambition. I could have written about killer koalas attacking anacondas in sub-saharan Africa. All the fiction. Reporting? No. Social commentary. But alas! Never to be. Real life is already a fiction, why not expand on it through the power of words and susceptibility of people? Prey on the ignorant through naive belief.
“What? What was that?”
I held my hand against my ear as his question rang in my ears. I couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask me such a thing for all the world to hear.
He came towards me, mike in hand and all I could think was “I can’t do this now.”
Not when my life is falling apart around me.
I will not become the fodder of the rest of the world.
Not again.
Not ever.
Reporters are people that generally work with Newspapers, Radio Stations, News Stations, etc. Reports go right into the action to get you the news you need. But that isn’t always the case: Sometimes reporters are given menial tasks like interviewing old ladies trying to bake the biggest cookie ever. Will Ferrel played as a News Anchor in Anchorman, and Christina Applegate played a reporter trying to become a Network Anchor. I love big butts.
I draw a blank. I don’t think I know that I would make a good reporter. Then again, I blog, and its pracitcally the same thing isn’t it? Observing the world around you and dictating it to an audience?
She stood on the rooftop of the Millennium Building. The heated tar found its way through the soles of her patent leather ballet flats. Legal pad in hand, she surveyed the city from above, feeling more and more like Peter Parker the longer she stood in the humid August noon.
The reporter didn’t know what to do. There was something fishy about how Candice got the award. He wasn’t an inspector or a detective but he was wise. He got up, got his notebook, talked to one of his cameramen, and then headed for the door.
One day I came across a reporter. He was an older guy who looked like he had been round the block, more like dragged round the block. Sat on the edge of the bar minding his own business and sipping what looked like a malt. I sat near him. Not next to him, but near him.
and in all the flashing and the shouting, suddenly they’re reduced to nothing but bodies. masses of life pushing and shoving, greedy and hungry for information only i can give. their faces turned up in breathless anticipation, glistening with a sheen of sweat as they lean in as close as they can, desperate for me to say those words they need to hear so they can turn it into a headline.
but in the tumult, they seem practically subhuman, animalistic and ravenous.
humans reduced to elbows and fists as they shove and kick to get to the information first.
as one rams into another, like dominoes the whole herd jostles. their skeletons knock against one another, rattling and clattering against their hollow bones.
the strong survive and the weak are found and driven out with cries of surprise as their hard earned spots are seized by those who simply fought harder.
animals. there are animals before me.
Someone who follows his dream by transforming what he sees in words. Telling people how the real world works in a true way. Someone with guts and creativity
its a job that need a person to move about alot and be able to ask good questions and know how to deal with people. once i played the role of a reporter and i really loved the role…a whole lotta fun..but i dont think i would actually be one..as it is superficial and narrow minded most of the time
The plight of the reporter is two-fold. The world desires bad news. The guilty cast cast scornful glances at you as you ask the right/wrong questions. You often fall into the negativity surrounding you. You are hated by most. And yet you sacrifice dignity to portray and uncover evil.
I am a reporter for a daily newspaper in a metropolitan area. My job discription includes finding stories to write about, writing about specific topics assigned to me by my editors, following up on stories previously written about and helping others write about their stories.
She hated him. Don’t shoot the messenger, sure, but he was being callous about the whole thing. Steve was missing and worse than that he was injured. Yes, he was just reporting the news to the crew, but he didn’t care and that pissed her off. Slipping from the bridge, she moved to her quarters, knowing that no one would be as dedicated as she to finding their missing captain.
ignore how you feel, how your heart is being ripped out of your chest and replaced with pieces of broken glass and ripped metal and rain and screams
just tell us what happened here, and in a couple of days everyone will forget, everyone but you, because you can never leave, you will always be here, be now, be screaming
The reporter was getting the story. They were friends at first then things got a little sticky. They did not understand each other any more. Lots of miscommunication. Left without words.
the person who discovers the news and delivers it to the general population. a reporter is one who takes risks and adventures. it is partially selfish and partially altruistic. reporters crave adventure.
he shoves past the shouting protesters, drenched in sweat, blood and beer, lifts his camera up into the air and tries to take as many shots as he can before he’s stopped
I groaned as the first one showed up. Gawkers I could take, the occasional civilian out for a laugh or a cheap thrill. But not them. Not the reporters.
Their ruthless attempts at ferreting out the truth, or rather — ferreting out the sensational always meant that guys like me got the worst of it. If we weren’t heroes than we were the bumbling, incompetent group that had let the bad guys get away.
A reporter is a person who tells you about things that are going on around the world or in your own home town. They usually work for a newspaper or television station.
“Miss, do you have a statement for this crime?” shouted a reporter. The young but tired detective sagged forward.
“We have no leads. It’s as it appears. Senseless and meaningless bloodshed.” A stand of hair had fallen into her face.
Every day was harder than the last. It was impossible to write obituaries every single day and not want to kill yourself and hate your job. All I ever wanted was to be a journalist. And now I am. But it sucks. My dreams of being a reporter were crushed.
standing aside life watching and then tell other about the obeservations
Um, annoying? But also interesting. Superman. Lois Lane. Um…1940’s. Noir. Trenchcoat. Fedora. Gray and black and white. Gritty. Cigarettes. Spiderman! SUPERHEROES! Jamenson.
this is more than a job for me it is a lifestyle. i am devoted and i only speak the truth as i am paid to. not a very well pay i am only paying for myself. but now i am given a choice by one named scott jay. his offer is to report lies…they are his businesses lies which is an unloyal thing but the money… its legitimate and bountiful.
The reporters can be very selfish. They will do anything to get their story, but I can kind of get where they’re coming from. They just need to do their job, and that is kind of what their job entails. I would like reporters to…. you know, focus more on the happier parts of lives, and not just the “someone got murdered”, “a home was broken into” or “someone’s face has been eaten” more often.
They are devious horrible people who have very few morals and should be shot on sight. if you look at the crap they pulled in the UK between phone tapping and deleting messages, and then they hide behind the cash of that prick Murdock. At least that red headed bitch has been arrested and hopefully they will crucify the bitch.
And I was forced to tell the world everything they didn’t want to hear. A shooting, a murder, a robbery, a campaign. All the scum of the world forced into me and out my mouth and into a microphone.
My last experience as a reporter was last summer in Alaska. I really enjoyed interviewing and later on site visit to the cell phone tower installers at Wrangell St Alias National Park.
I once wanted to be a reporter. A reporter is someone who relays information, lets everyone know what’s going on. But no one ever pays attention to the reporter, just the information. A reporter is kind of invisible.
hat note camera spider man peter Parker red yellow pikmen super smash bros brawl
she had curly blond hair and she was walking in the rain cursing the fact that she had to do this interview. a motorcycle rides by. “how on earth can somebody ride a motorcycle in the rain.?”
I’ve always thought about being one. But, oh, how annoying the life must be like. Perhaps the asking people questions, having to be at important events. It just seems so tedious. I wouldn’t do with it what I should anyways. Or I’d hope Spiderman wou
me cnn job journalism love happiness life work entertainment dream worker girl guy famous falconer interview people celebrity
is someone that is meant to report truths but really, truthfully they are the governments puppets. conforming to only report what society’ wants to hear’. really everything they write could be seen as bullshit.
dream job. too bad it’s not reality. thanks life, and ambition. I could have written about killer koalas attacking anacondas in sub-saharan Africa. All the fiction. Reporting? No. Social commentary. But alas! Never to be. Real life is already a fiction, why not expand on it through the power of words and susceptibility of people? Prey on the ignorant through naive belief.
I am fox news.
reporters can be news reporters.
“What? What was that?”
I held my hand against my ear as his question rang in my ears. I couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask me such a thing for all the world to hear.
That reporter won’t stop calling me. I’ve told him time and again that the shoes were not mine. I don’t even like clowns for crying out loud.
He came towards me, mike in hand and all I could think was “I can’t do this now.”
Not when my life is falling apart around me.
I will not become the fodder of the rest of the world.
Not again.
Not ever.
Reporters are people that generally work with Newspapers, Radio Stations, News Stations, etc. Reports go right into the action to get you the news you need. But that isn’t always the case: Sometimes reporters are given menial tasks like interviewing old ladies trying to bake the biggest cookie ever. Will Ferrel played as a News Anchor in Anchorman, and Christina Applegate played a reporter trying to become a Network Anchor. I love big butts.
I draw a blank. I don’t think I know that I would make a good reporter. Then again, I blog, and its pracitcally the same thing isn’t it? Observing the world around you and dictating it to an audience?
She stood on the rooftop of the Millennium Building. The heated tar found its way through the soles of her patent leather ballet flats. Legal pad in hand, she surveyed the city from above, feeling more and more like Peter Parker the longer she stood in the humid August noon.
The reporter didn’t know what to do. There was something fishy about how Candice got the award. He wasn’t an inspector or a detective but he was wise. He got up, got his notebook, talked to one of his cameramen, and then headed for the door.
Peter Mandello’s slimy grip tightened around my wrist. Gallons of sweat, it seemed, seeped out of his extra large pores.
Once you have a porter, why create a re-porter?
One day I came across a reporter. He was an older guy who looked like he had been round the block, more like dragged round the block. Sat on the edge of the bar minding his own business and sipping what looked like a malt. I sat near him. Not next to him, but near him.
and in all the flashing and the shouting, suddenly they’re reduced to nothing but bodies. masses of life pushing and shoving, greedy and hungry for information only i can give. their faces turned up in breathless anticipation, glistening with a sheen of sweat as they lean in as close as they can, desperate for me to say those words they need to hear so they can turn it into a headline.
but in the tumult, they seem practically subhuman, animalistic and ravenous.
humans reduced to elbows and fists as they shove and kick to get to the information first.
as one rams into another, like dominoes the whole herd jostles. their skeletons knock against one another, rattling and clattering against their hollow bones.
the strong survive and the weak are found and driven out with cries of surprise as their hard earned spots are seized by those who simply fought harder.
animals. there are animals before me.
Someone who follows his dream by transforming what he sees in words. Telling people how the real world works in a true way. Someone with guts and creativity
its a job that need a person to move about alot and be able to ask good questions and know how to deal with people. once i played the role of a reporter and i really loved the role…a whole lotta fun..but i dont think i would actually be one..as it is superficial and narrow minded most of the time
The plight of the reporter is two-fold. The world desires bad news. The guilty cast cast scornful glances at you as you ask the right/wrong questions. You often fall into the negativity surrounding you. You are hated by most. And yet you sacrifice dignity to portray and uncover evil.
I am a reporter for a daily newspaper in a metropolitan area. My job discription includes finding stories to write about, writing about specific topics assigned to me by my editors, following up on stories previously written about and helping others write about their stories.
She hated him. Don’t shoot the messenger, sure, but he was being callous about the whole thing. Steve was missing and worse than that he was injured. Yes, he was just reporting the news to the crew, but he didn’t care and that pissed her off. Slipping from the bridge, she moved to her quarters, knowing that no one would be as dedicated as she to finding their missing captain.
just the facts, ma’am
ignore how you feel, how your heart is being ripped out of your chest and replaced with pieces of broken glass and ripped metal and rain and screams
just tell us what happened here, and in a couple of days everyone will forget, everyone but you, because you can never leave, you will always be here, be now, be screaming
just the facts
like
The reporter was getting the story. They were friends at first then things got a little sticky. They did not understand each other any more. Lots of miscommunication. Left without words.
the person who discovers the news and delivers it to the general population. a reporter is one who takes risks and adventures. it is partially selfish and partially altruistic. reporters crave adventure.
he shoves past the shouting protesters, drenched in sweat, blood and beer, lifts his camera up into the air and tries to take as many shots as he can before he’s stopped
I groaned as the first one showed up. Gawkers I could take, the occasional civilian out for a laugh or a cheap thrill. But not them. Not the reporters.
Their ruthless attempts at ferreting out the truth, or rather — ferreting out the sensational always meant that guys like me got the worst of it. If we weren’t heroes than we were the bumbling, incompetent group that had let the bad guys get away.
A reporter is a person who tells you about things that are going on around the world or in your own home town. They usually work for a newspaper or television station.
“Miss, do you have a statement for this crime?” shouted a reporter. The young but tired detective sagged forward.
“We have no leads. It’s as it appears. Senseless and meaningless bloodshed.” A stand of hair had fallen into her face.