We Read America's Worst Columnist, Sam Fulwood III, So You Don't Have To
Headline: Old TV triumphs in Madness month
March 20, 2007
After Sam's last column, in which he took a county judge to task for acquitting a racist cop
editors were concerned. They feared Sam was dangerously close to becoming relevant. That's Connie Schultz's job. So Sam got a week off to recharge his ego, and the result is spectacular: The story of how a nice old repairman named Joe Sopko fixed Sam's three-year-old TV so he could watch basketball.
0/10. If only Sopko could have fixed Sam's writing, too.
1/10. This, Cleveland, is the story Best Buy doesn't want you to read. Thank God Sam had the courage to break it, using only his narcissism and the Yellow Pages.
Sam Gets Poetic:
"It's so ancient, a large piece of furniture must support its heavy tube. Oh, yes, that's a tube jutting out back like the Hottentot Venus' callipygian booty." Sam compares his TV to a 19th-century European circus attraction, something maybe four people at Oberlin will understand — and they'll think it's, like, totally exploitive and sexist. (You can learn about the Venus — and about how smart Sam really is — here
The Master Has Spoken:
"For the rest of March, I'll be on the edge of my couch and cheering my old television on as the Madness runs its course." Expect Sam next to tackle a multi-part series on comfortable reclining positions, helped along by long passages describing the contents of his refrigerator.
What Sam Reveals About Sam:
That although occasionally he needs some prodding, Sam will always deliver on the mantra PD
editors had stenciled on his bedroom stucco: ALL PLAY AND NO WORK KEEPS SAM A VERY DULL BOY.
Bust out your bracket, Cheryl — it's time for Sammy to teach you the ultimate lesson in prognosticationalizing pain! Get me a Yoo-Hoo first, will ya? Aw, turds — my TV doesn't work! Gotta get 'er fixed. Man, this thing is heavy. Look at it. It's got a big butt! Okay, Cheryl, you carry the TV while I drive to the repair shop! I'll keep it in second gear, so you don't fall too far behind. What, Joe? You want fifty bucks? What about an autograph? Okay, okay... lemme see what's in my wallet: business card, notes cribbed from Mark Naymik, notes cribbed from Mike Tobin, Pulitzer speech... aw, forget it! Let's play one-on-one for your lousy scratch! Double-or-nothing! Got my Chuck Taylors right here! Whattya say? Sammy Three in da howwwwwzzzzzzzzz!!!