Need Journalistic Integrity? I'm On The Case!

As all two of my readers know, the first year of college tends to be incredibly demanding. With introductory course, parties, and an endless amount of horny women, freshman year is quite a challenge. I, however, have transcended such petty obstacles and accomplished a task few have ever dare to try.
You see, many students fearfully steer clear of participating in the student newspaper, for fear that their incompetent writing skills will lead to embarrassment. And those that do scribe for student papers usually head straight to the editorials under the delusion that their opinions, well, matter. I, on the other hand, am completely different (Surely my opinions matter.) But when I signed up with the Old Gold and Black, I went straight for the jugular, where journalistic integrity really matters. I went for the sports.
Now, my overwhelming aptitude dictates that I should write for the biggest sports on campus, like rugby, cricket, and beer pong. However, our senior editor assigned me to report on the most menial of sports, like tennis. Not one to hold a grudge or act immaturely, I bit my lip and wrote the articles that my dickhole editor assigned. But one day (and the following events are completely true), instead of assign articles by e-mail as he usually does, he called me into his office. He told me to sit down and said in his commanding, 22-year-old voice, "Hey, fish. Your work's gettin' sloppy. I should ride your ass out of here on a pike, you sonuvagun. But I'm giving you one more chance. I'm givin' you the keys to a gold mine, so don't screw it up!" He handed me the assignment that is every journalist's wet dream. I was to report on my school's track meet; the Open Classic.
However, I could not foul this one up. As always, I had to remain at the top of my game. Therefore, I buttoned up my shirt, tied my shoes, and did all my research from my laptop (as all responsible journalists do) instead of walking across the street to where the meet was being held. However, the only difficulty greater than downloading PDF files was encapsulating an entire weekend of action on the track into 800 words. And to make matters worse, my 8:00 PM deadline was slowly approaching. But with integrity flowing through my journalist veins, I sent in the article only 14 hours late.
Still, my senior editor must have wet his pants when he finally read my masterpiece. How else can you explain his choice make it the lead article in the sports section that week. Of course, the title needed a change and 100 words needed to be loped off, but sacrifices must be made (like sacrificing a good lead article on a small event for a crappy lead article on a big event.)
Now, I'm not one to immediately accept fame (though you can find my amazing article and full name here), but my lead story as a freshman has earned me some notoreity. No more than two people came up to me and inquired about me writing for the newspaper. Even though the article was never mentioned, I assume they couldn't recall it out of jealousy.
I can also assume that this particular lead article will lead to even bigger and better assignments. As an important journalist, I will report, expose, and postulate on stories that will give me so much selfless glory that it would make Mother Theresa seem self-centered. In fact, just to fill you with anticipation, my next article will detail illegal immigration on the border between the United States and Canada. I will examine how the higher exchange rate for Canada causes them to come to our country and steal our jobs. But I will also expose inconsistent politicians that only support a wall between the United States and Mexico. If we must construct a wall between our land and Mexico, we must do the same for Canada. There are no differences between our neighbors, or their job-stealing citizens (except skin color).
So, if my dear readers ever need journalistic credibility, I'll be on the case. Give me an assignment, set a deadline, and I'll be sure to give you a half-assed written story that's at least four hours late. But at least it's right in my mind.