This little cubicle at Fox is pathetic. And why I ever let the Pinchlette convince me that I’d like working for his protege Jimmy M. is beyond me. I should have known from listening to Jimmy’s cell-phone convos with Becky B that he’d never be more than a half-wit trying to make his mentor proud. Plus, Pinch himself told me he thought there was something “congenitally weird” about these Murdoch Katzenjammers. So here I am in a utility closet where the walls are covered with torn O’Reilly posters. More on this once I find the charger. Battery’s almost gone.