Listen to this steaming pile of words:

The night was black. The moon full. Live music from Vinoy Park floated in the salty air. But Ed Maloney was not at peace. Ed Maloney was thinking: I need a hand. I don't want to screw this up. Ed had been invited to his cousin Frank Maloney's Venetian Isles home Saturday for some backyard shark fishing. Ed's a novice angler, so when he felt what seemed to be a block of lead yank at his line, he knew it was time to call in reinforcements. "So I sit in the chair, " the more experienced Frank recalled Saturday, "and I said, 'Holy s---!' This is just the strongest thing I've ever felt!"

LOL!

This is what those jerk-offs killed:

Seriously, the writing in this article is so bad that you should really read it for yourselves.

Take note, young journalists, that is not how you write a story. I will rewrite this story for you now so that it makes sense:

Chuck, Frank, and Ed, three overweight, middle-aged, middle-class, losers caught a big beautiful Bull Shark off a pier and killed it during Bull Shark spawning season--congrats. They called up local fish markets to try to sell the meat, but they were refused by all because Bull Shark tastes like shit, is laced with mercury, and isn't even eaten by the Chinese.

Chuck, Frank, and Ed--the classy mustache and muscle shirt crew.

Also in this "article" Will Van Sant refers to Bull Sharks repeatedly as "giant man killers." Does this mean that the sharks like to kill "giant men," or that they are simply really large "man killers?" Either statement is completely false, still, quit dangling your participles smart ass.

Professional journalism my clasper-holes,

--Sharky

technorati tags: fishing, shark fishing, Bull Sharks, Giants, Killers, Journalism, writing, mustaches, muscle shirts, overweight, sharks, dangling participles