June 18, 2002 -- Washington (APJP) -- Yesterday morning, the always-entertaining Media Whores Online reported the news about the de facto demotion of the Washington Post's resident hypocrite courtesan, Sally Quinn:

Sally Quinn turned up for work at her old desk at the Washington
Post recently to receive a rude shock -- she's been ousted from
her prime real estate and banished to the editorial nether regions.

I was laughing out loud at the irony -- after all, she wouldn't have been where she was at the overrated newspaper (that still stakes its reputation on its reporting of the the now-three-decade-old Watergate) if it weren't for her promiscuous use of her own nether regions! The story continued:

Of course, Sally went ballistic. But to no effect.

She's been exiled.

To the Post's equivalent of Siberia -- or, this being America, to
the outer reaches of Beringia.

You just have to laugh.

But the Post should go further. It's about time that Ms. Ride-along-on-your-husband's-rep was booted out of the Washington Post -- and booted out of the Beltway, for that matter.

Of all the repulsive personalities in the District, Quinn -- a graceless, self-appointed grande dame of nothingness -- takes the cake. Her putative reign as a dilettante non-journalist should have been squashed the moment she sat her ass on Ben Bradlee's lap. Quinn deserves nothing but the worst.

In that case, let's hope People magazine interviews her. They should --mostly about her slovenly appearance and bed-head hair, but also about how the snobby Mistress Quinn made a habit of pillorying Hillary and Bill Clinton (and helped drive then-young Chelsea Clinton to a couch) as she strutted her snide stuff at the Post.

For now, ol' Sal is using a desk "down" among the Post's sports staff. You can practically picture her reaction: "Horrors! What will her neighbors think? Consorting with these... these... these PLEBES? It's almost as bad as having to host guests from Little Rock!"

There is nothing funnier than a snobbish, proselytizing gutter snipe getting her comeuppance.

Come to think of it, she DOES belong in the sports section -- as a pinup girl for washed-up predatory pundettes before they become hateful hags more at home on 14th Street than in Georgetown.