I Might Be Wrong Has Suspended Bob Woodward for Sending Nude Pics to RFK Junior

Why does RFK Jr. have this effect on journalists?

Above: A rare clothed photo of Bob Woodward. (from Horatio Villalobos via Getty)

Last week, the news world was stunned to learn that star New York Magazine reporter Olivia Nuzzi was suspended for having a personal relationship with RFK Junior while covering his campaign. This week, more details of the relationship have been alleged: Nuzzi is said to have repeatedly sent Kennedy provocative pictures. At one point, after Kennedy blocked Nuzzi’s number, Nuzzi allegedly contacted Kennedy from a different source claiming to have information about an imminent hit piece, and once Kennedy re-established contact, Nuzzi sent more illicit photos.

What would compel a reporter to behave like this? Why would a 31 year-old rising star jeopardize her career for the attention of a 70 year-old married man? I’m not an expert on ethics and standards in journalism, so I hired someone who is: Award-winning reporter Bob Woodward. The long-time Washington Post editor and author of 14 best-selling books is an authoritative source on the subject of journalistic practices. It wasn’t easy to fit Woodward’s services into I Might Be Wrong’s budget, but I felt that his pedigree warranted his handsome pay. His first assignment was to investigate the origins of the Nuzzi/Kennedy story.

And it is with great sadness that I must tell you that I Might Be Wrong has suspended Bob Woodward for sending nude pics to Robert F. Kennedy, Junior. This really went poorly: I didn’t even get one story out of Woodward. But the egregious breach of journalistic ethics, as well as the shockingly pornographic nature of the photos, leaves me no choice.

I first knew that something was amiss when a Kennedy staffer wrote to me complaining of “harassment” from Woodward. Initially, I assumed that the staffer was referring to the tenacious, leave-no-stone-unturned approach that led to Woodward breaking the Watergate scandal. I wrote back: “This is simply what Bob Woodward does. If it shocks you, then perhaps you’re shocked by professional journalism.” Boy did I end up eating those words when the staffer sent back a picture of Woodward coyly perched on a hotel bed, fully nude, with a strategically placed copy of All The President’s Men the only thing preserving the 81 year-old’s modesty. “Where did this come from?” I demanded. “Same place these came from,” was the reply, and then the aide sent me a DropBox link to more than 500 self-taken lascivious photos of Woodward.

Needless to say: It was beyond awkward calling the married octogenarian whom Bob Schieffer called “the best reporter of our time” into my office to discuss this development. Woodward sat across from me with his head in his hands while I confronted him with the evidence: A picture of him in the bathroom mirror wearing only socks, him writhing on the floor rubbing strawberries on his nipples, him on all fours in a bubble bath with his buttocks peeking above the water like some liver-spotted tropical isle. Woodward couldn’t look at me; he stared at the ground and muttered “I messed up” over and over. I told him that I was pulling him from the RFK story while we investigated the situation.

And here’s the part that really makes me mad: That same afternoon I received an email from Kennedy’s assistant titled “YOU SAID YOU WOULD STOP THIS” with more X-rated pics of Woodward. These were high-quality boudoir shots, including Woodward as a sexy cop, Woodward as a mischievous fox-type creature, and — most disturbing of all — Woodward in a Nixon mask with “INVESTIGATE” written in lipstick on his chest above an arrow pointing to his genitals.

Apparently, Woodward had gone directly from our meeting to an adult photographer, where he spent several thousand dollars on the photos. Back in my office, he openly wept: “There’s just something about RFK Junior!” he wailed. “I don’t know what it is — he’s just so cool!” I moved to console him, but as I did, I could see him trying to shove his phone down his pants, presumably to snap a dick pic. I suspended him on the spot.

Why would an esteemed reporter act like this? What could possibly have been going through his head? I figured there was one man who might be able to figure that out: Woodward’s long-time partner Carl Bernstein. Bernstein is a top-notch reporter who has been close to Woodward for more than 50 years, so I hired him to investigate the Woodward-Kennedy connection.

And obviously I was apoplectic when the next day I found myself being screamed at by the same Kennedy aide as photos of a nude Carl Bernstein spread-eagle in a kiddie pool arrived in my inbox. This time, there was only one interaction between the reporter and Kennedy before the pics started flying: An introductory email from Bernstein was met with “will fwd to my scheduler” from Kennedy, to which Bernstein replied with 50 terabytes of self-made porn. I honestly feel bad for RFK Jr.; it must be off-putting to send one short email and then be bombarded with pics of a legendary reporter perched nude on a motorcycle, exposing himself in an elevator, and placing his genitals on a kitchen scale while giving the “thumbs up” gesture next to the scale readout.

I’ve decided to stop assigning reporters to investigate RFK Jr.’s mystique, as this has become a real “The Old Lady Who Swallowed the Fly” situation. Because it’s not just Woodward and Bernstein — I have also assigned Tom Brokaw, Christiane Amanpour, Tom Friedman, Ted Koppel, Linda Greenhouse, David Remnick, and Dan Rather to this task. The result is always the same: The reporter is blinded by Kennedy’s charm and ends up bombarding him with photos that Larry Flynt would have found in poor taste. The only things that change are the amount of whipped cream on the reporters’ nipples and the color of their crotchless underwear.

I may never understand why RFK Jr. has this effect on people. These reporters are sacrificing their careers and reputations, and for what? Kennedy appears to be a conspiracy-addled weirdo who has treaded on his famous name and lived a life devoid of accomplishments. And yet…well, I suppose he does have a certain je ne sais quoi, doesn’t he? I may need to look into it myself.

For the lawyers: This is a joke, none of it is real. Furthermore: For a libel charge to be valid, the claim has to be believable, so if you bring a lawsuit, then you’re saying that you find these claims about Woodward to be believable. So maybe digest that before you serve me with papers.

---