Go to a party last weekend. Two roommates, both early 30s. One’s a consultant/lawyer/arms dealer of some sort, one’s a journalist. Arrive relatively early (8:45 pm) and only the first guy’s friends are there. 10:30 tolls and… the journalist’s friends arrive! The porch, previously empty, is now full-to-bursting with pasty people and cigarettes, and the first host has to shuffle this new crowd inside.
1) Journalists live up precisely to their stereotypes.
2) Non-journalists lead boring lives.