Why I read the newspaper

So I was reading the New York Times sports section the other day (because I'm a liberal and, you know, I hate America and all, but I love American sports), when I came across this great opening paragraph:

"From the time he appeared for warm-ups before playing Florida State at the Civic Center here on Wednesday, J. J. Redick of top-ranked Duke was met by familiar heckling, a crude sign that made an obscene reference to his sister and even a body-painted message that questioned his sexual orientation."

If you're unfamiliar, J. J. Redick is a very good basketball player despite his genetic limitations (he's a white guy named J. J.) and also writes very bad poetry.

But I love the paper's insistence on avoiding vulgarity. For those of you who are curious, the "crude sign" was made out of an old cleaning rag and congealed blueberry yogurt (crude indeed), the obscene reference to his sister read, "I met your sister the other day. She's very fucking nice, ass munch," and the questioning of his sexual orientation was, "Hey, J. J., are you gay or straight? Really, it's a serious question. I don't know."

Redick responded with a line from his poetry: "It's hard living a life behind invisible bars." He then proceeded to hit his head on one of the invisible bars. Poor guy.