Always pushing the frontiers of filler copy, the lazy junkies of this phoned-in fishwrapper are rolling out yet another scheme for meeting their assigned word counts: something called "What Are You Doing?" It is exactly as thin a conceit as it sounds. Someone of no consequence finds someone else of no consequence and asks: "What are you doing?" The answer spills directly into empty columns until the necessary inches are filled. I will say, in passing, that this idea exemplifies not only the extreme lassitude typical of the Stranger staff but also their penchant for outright theft of intellectual property. You see, for some years now I have been strolling around the premises every Tuesday (which is supposedly deadline day here, though you would not know it) with a wooden clipboard and a single question: What ARE you doing? If the editors are truly so desperate for copy, they are welcome to peruse the seventh drawer in my file cabinet, which I will now open so that I may, following their poor example, pick out a bunch of words to dump into my column:

February 9, 2010, results of the weekly staff-wide inquiry, "What ARE you doing?" as administered by A. Birch Steen, Stranger Public Editor and OSHA Board of Governors Member (Retired). DAN SAVAGE: Slams door. Sounds of rubbing, then moaning, followed by some sort of high-pitched whinny, the thud of a head hitting a desk, and finally, loud snoring. CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE: "Shu(cough) u(cough), old man. And hand me that lighter." CHARLES MUDEDE: "Hello! You're just in time. Let me pour you a glass." CIENNA MADRID: "Sexist swine misogynist [unprintable, possibly Spanish]!" JEN GRAVES: "HelloIamverybusyblahblahblahboobs!" PAUL CONSTANT: "Can you hand me that spray bottle? My eyes are sticking to my bearded-lady porn again." ERICA GRANDY: "Heeeeeeeeey." Smiles coquettishly, appears to be at extreme leisure. DAVID SCHMADER: "Juh?!?" LINDY WEST: "CAN YOU HEAR ME? I AM TALKING TO YOU! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR HEARING AID? HOLD ON, LET ME PUT DOWN THIS PEOPLE MAG-ZINE AND COME A LITTLE CLOSER!"

I believe I have made my point: Such nonsense is unsuitable for print.

In other failed efforts this week, BRENDAN KILEY purports to have uncovered some sort of "scandal" at King 5 Television, which scandal is exactly the Stranger business model: requiring people to pay for coverage. (At The Stranger, staffers demand payment in the form of blowjobs, cocaine, and free tickets.) Ms. West calls for the storming and burning of a locally owned small business that had the temerity to make her pay full price for dumplings while not serving her any "life-giving alcohol." Mr. Savage coins the term "kinktrepreneurs," as decent people everywhere shudder. And a new sporting-event column called The Score appears, no doubt in an effort to masculate this place, though a quick reading of the first installment shows that CHRISTOPHER DeLAURENTI is under the misapprehension—common among all sissies—that moving a violin bow to and fro counts as athletics. To employ the idiotic language of your generation, Mr. DeLaurenti: Fail.

Follow A. Birch Steen at www.twitter.com/strangerslog.