Gladys was frustrated; the graffiti artist had struck for the third time, and the police would do nothing. “Just stay a little further from the highway and avoid the loading chute,” they said. Spray paint graffiti was bad enough; it would eventually wear off or wash out, but when they used the branding iron, it never went away, and the stink from that burning hair lasted for days. And what if the paparazzi heard about this? . . . . . David, Sf.G.
Janine was beginning to think her mother either had early onset Alzheimer’s or was just plain wacko. Her mother claimed, and swore it was true (you know the major papers don’t lie), that tabloids claimed Condoleeza Rice was converting to Islam along with President Obama, and after the conversions, she was becoming his second wife and working for ACORN doing community organizing. As soon as the FBI released the paparazzis’ camera memory cards, there would be photographic proof–provided the photos didn’t implicate Michael Jackson or Elvis. . . . . David, Sf.G.
Madame Gogo (not her real name for privacy’s sake) did her best to try to get out like normal people and not have her privacy invaded by the stinking paparazzi, but somehow, no matter what precautions she took, they always seemed to find her. . . . . David, Sf.G.