My heart went out to the daughter of Rob Naylor but as as veteran of her trade I can only think: "What else did she expect?"
So in between writing headlines and hitting deadlines I've dashed off the Lady Journalist's Lament.

I am a lady journalist I walk the Moscow beat
I'm a multimedia mistress I can snap, and blog and tweet
But of all my splendid stories there's just one that is well known.
It's of a twat who stuck himself inside a twat of stone.

I penned a searing expose that really ripped apart
The cultural vandalism that's destroying Moscow's heart.
It should have made my name but did it? No, I must be blunt.
I'm famous for the c*** who got stuck in a concrete c***

I dreamed I'd be Anne Leslie, Marie Colvin or Kate Adie
And prove that journalism is a suitable job for a lady
My stories they'd repeat and tweet from Timbuktu to China
But all they ever mention is that bloody stone vagina.

Come all you lady journalists and listen unto me
Here's what to do if ever you a funny tale should see
Delete it don't repeat it and the chances then are slim
You'll share my sorry fate – the lady of the sculpted quim.