Public Radio Slave

Ten Fingers, Ten Toes

It has been relatively quiet around here for a few weeks. The crazies must be out enjoying the nice weather, or maybe they're  beginning to take their hoarding seriously. They are trolling garage sales all day. It shouldn't have taken me so long to figure this out.

But the radio station employees, or one particular employee, has scooped up all the normal  and shoved it down their pants. Yesterday, the eerie semblance of ordinary was gone, and in its place disgusting had arrived.

I was cleaning and moving a couple pieces of furniture. I lifted a box, and there behind it, was a nice, tidy pile of toenail clippings. Somebodies nasty old dead tissue just waiting for me to run a DNA test on it.  I'll take a psychotic listener any day....

Perfect English

 The BBC stands for British Broadcasting Company--as in hey we are British!

I had a caller last week who hadn't realized that English didn't originate in Texas, or even Washington, D.C.

"I heard a program last night and I was just amazed at how well those people spoke. Their English was just perfect."

"You must have been listening to the BBC, sir."

"Yes, the way they talked, it was just so much better than what I usually hear over this way, no slang."

"Yes, that is the BBC, in Britain."

"They sounded much closer to what I consider the true book, the King James version of the Bible."

"Okay, yes, they are very knowledgeable and well spoken. Did you have a specific question about what you heard?"

"I only went to grade school. So I like to hear the good talkers."