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Advice for Richard Jewell
 

What's Richard Jewell's problem?
You know him, right? The Bubba-bomber.
TIME called him a "Rush Limbaugh weigh-alike."

He's whining and whining about how the FBI and the media destroyed his "good name." What a crock!

You know what ol' BartCop would've done if I were him?  I'd say,  

"Hey, CBS, c'mon in and play some poker with me.
Interview me, ask me questions, get to know me.

Hey, NBC, let's go play some pool, let's ride horses.
Talk to me, get to know me. Do I act like a bomber?

Hey, ABC, I'll give you an interview if you give me
nude pictues of Diane Sawyer. (She'd do it, for SURE!)

Hey, CNN, send Catherine Crier over. I'll talk to her!
Interview me, try to trap me, ask me ANYTHING!!!"

Pretty soon, they'd be so goddamn sick of me and my
fat ass, they'd take their cameras and go away.

But when he hid under his mommies skirt,
behind his lawyer, he looked guilty as hell.

"You know my name, but you don't really know who I am,"
he whined at his tearful press conference.

If he had put a lawnchair on his front porch and talked to the media, 
and DARED them to catch him lying, they'd go away.

It's that easy.

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