(no subject)
Mar. 3rd, 2004 10:47 pmPeople are idiots, as was evidenced today by the one supervisor who told me yesterday after I dumped on "The Passion of the Christ" that I could come to his church anytime. Apparently, there's a language where "Boy, after seeing that movie, I'm actually kind of glad I don't consider myself a Catholic anymore" roughly translates to "Pardon me, but does anyone know a place where I can go to be judgmental and guilty all at once?" (I only say this because if this guy's any indication, that's what this place churns out into the world.)
Anyway, I was listening to the local talk radio station tonight and they were interviewing the witch who's going to that weird "Real World" knockoff on the Sci-Fi Channel. And I was really getting into it, because listening to a well-educated Aussie talk intelligently about Wicca to two radio DJs who were really interested in what she said ... that was cool. Well, the supervisor guy came up and asked me if I knew the song playing on the other radio. I said no, because I was listening to a cool interview. He asked who was being interviewed, and I said, "A witch."
I get a blank stare. "You know," I said. "Witchcraft."
And in this revoltingly condescending tone, he says, "You don't want to listen to that."
Oh ... well, of course I don't want to listen to that. I mean, why would any woman who's got a pentacle tattooed on her shoulder want to listen to a witch giving an informative talk on the radio when I could listening to crappy seventies blues with the rest of you people? The mind boggles, and soundly trounces Nanite-Riddled Super Sekrit Spy's Mind in the finals. In other words, fuck you, the horse you rode in, the guy who fed it apples, and the little girl who braided its mane. Sheesh.
In other news, tonight it's 60 degrees here, and next week we've been told to expect snow. Whoever's job it is to keep the crack pipe away from Mother Nature is seriously fucking slacking off.
Oh, and the music from Jack Sparrow's entrance in PotC just came on my favorite film-score Live365 station. Is it bad that I could picture the scene in my head right down to every miniscule acting cue? A better question ... is it wrong that I want Johnny Depp and Bill Murray to go to Sean Penn's house, whack him unconscious with a two-by-four, then carefully cut the Oscar in two and go on their merry way? Yeah, thought not.
Anyway, I was listening to the local talk radio station tonight and they were interviewing the witch who's going to that weird "Real World" knockoff on the Sci-Fi Channel. And I was really getting into it, because listening to a well-educated Aussie talk intelligently about Wicca to two radio DJs who were really interested in what she said ... that was cool. Well, the supervisor guy came up and asked me if I knew the song playing on the other radio. I said no, because I was listening to a cool interview. He asked who was being interviewed, and I said, "A witch."
I get a blank stare. "You know," I said. "Witchcraft."
And in this revoltingly condescending tone, he says, "You don't want to listen to that."
Oh ... well, of course I don't want to listen to that. I mean, why would any woman who's got a pentacle tattooed on her shoulder want to listen to a witch giving an informative talk on the radio when I could listening to crappy seventies blues with the rest of you people? The mind boggles, and soundly trounces Nanite-Riddled Super Sekrit Spy's Mind in the finals. In other words, fuck you, the horse you rode in, the guy who fed it apples, and the little girl who braided its mane. Sheesh.
In other news, tonight it's 60 degrees here, and next week we've been told to expect snow. Whoever's job it is to keep the crack pipe away from Mother Nature is seriously fucking slacking off.
Oh, and the music from Jack Sparrow's entrance in PotC just came on my favorite film-score Live365 station. Is it bad that I could picture the scene in my head right down to every miniscule acting cue? A better question ... is it wrong that I want Johnny Depp and Bill Murray to go to Sean Penn's house, whack him unconscious with a two-by-four, then carefully cut the Oscar in two and go on their merry way? Yeah, thought not.
Bitter
Date: 2004-03-03 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-03 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-03 09:22 pm (UTC)Yes,
It is very wrong.
They should use a baseball bat embedded with broken glass and rusty nails.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 02:34 am (UTC)We must cull them, for their own good *nod nod*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 06:44 am (UTC)*taunts you with her 80 degrees and sunny*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 08:55 am (UTC)Because nothing says I love you like being beaten half to death by a gay pirate and a ghostbusting groundskeeper.
Take that Spicoli.