overheard
Life's circle
powerline
NY Post
poets
decorative painting


(con't from front page)

CRONNICK: What's this I hear about you teaming up with your sissy European friends and trashing my column.
SHABD: Have you been drinking?
CRONNICK: What's your point?
SHABD: Don't be so paranoid. You know everything I do is designed to ruin your career.
CRONNICK: I've been the king around here long enough, is that it?
SHABD: I think you're overreacting.
CRONNICK: I think you're a young Turk with a hard on.
SHABD: Just because we disagree does that mean we cannot get along?
CRONNICK: This interview is for the record.
SHABD: What does that mean?
CRONNICK: What gets said, gets printed.
SHABD: You can't be serious.
CRONNICK: Nervous?
SHABD: No, I just think you're an idiot. Who wants to read normal conversation. That's why there's such a thing as writers.
CRONNICK: So you're one of these guys who feels you need to tell people what to think. People are too stupid to make up their own minds.
SHABD: People like all kinds of stupid things like: wrestling, country music, beer; that doesn't make them right.
CRONNICK: Wha'da you got against beer?
SHABD: You obviously don't ...
CRONNICK: Don't tell me I got to start drinking French wine to be accepted by your crowd, 'cause that ain't a'gonna happen. I'm an average guy and an average Joe.
SHABD: Me too.
CRONNICK: That's not true, you're too consumed with your phoney idea of compassion to be an average guy.
SHABD: So if I have compassion, I'm a phoney? How banal.
CRONNICK: Always obscessed with anal.
SHABD: I said banal, and you know it.
CRONNICK: Now who's paranoid.
SHABD: It's easy to be paranoid around a fascist psycho.
CRONNICK: Gee, instead of calling me names, why don't you just tell me where I'm wrong. That's what this whole conversation is about.
SHABD: Come again?
CRONNICK: If you think I wrong, tell me. Don't call me names behind my back.
SHABD: What are you talking about?
CRONNICK: Drunk, stupid, Fascist psycho.
SHABD: Oh, yea, well, all in fun.
CRONNICK: I don't think so, Shabd. Anyway, how'd you get the nic name T.B.O.?
SHABD: Totally blogged out, it means, like, tired, too much information, thinking too much.
CRONNICK: Thinking hurts your head?
SHABD: You know something, want to get a drink?
CRONNICK: Sure, where?
SHABD: The Sports Bar. Off the record.
CRONNICK: You buyin'?
SHABD: Why not.
CRONNICK: Okay.

EDITORS NOTE: believe it or not, Nic Shabd and Walter Cronnick are friends.


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