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Give us Dirty Laundry

So it turns out that two of the victims of that boat fire off of Santa Cruz Island this weekend were classmates of my 17-year-old. Parents of one of the kids also presumed dead. School is reeling, many kids who knew the victims stayed home today, grief counselors all over the place, yada yada. After my morning workout I dropped by the front office to ask if they needed any help, and they said the big problem they were having was with the media trying to interview students. So Baleful Glare BW has spent the last several hours in a standoff, keeping the media away from the students during their morning outdoorsy stuff and lunchtime. Local CBS guy asks me if I want to make a statement. I tell him to fuck off. CNN guy asks me what the problem is, I tell him that kids have had fucking cameras stuck in their faces this morning. He tells me not to get angry. I tell I'm not fucking angry. He says you're dropping f-bombs on me. I say Spongebob and Patrick call them sentence enhancers. Stops the skinny-jean motherfucker in his tracks. Local NBC affiliate guy shows up. I go up to him and tell him I see him at the supermarket, we're neighbors, so I want to tell him to have his fellow vultures show some fucking respect and stay out of the kids' faces. He blathers about public has the right to know. I say fine, you do that from over there. He waddles off. New principal comes out and makes a short non-informative statement, then walks over to me and thanks me for my help. I then spend the next hour, lunchtime, getting in the way of the cameras on the street as the grief porn merchants try to get some long-distance teary kid footage they can use.

Fucking vultures. Several kids came up to me afterward and TMFMS, so the headache from glaring all that time was wurth it.

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