14 May, 2005 enter, the haggis
one of the charms of pretending to be a "radio announcer" (i avoid "DJ", since every rat-fucker that can throw a CD on a tray is a "DJ", and that may be overqualified), is actually having to announce things. Public Service Announcements, typed by staff, are usually so innocuous that it's of little use to pre-read them... unless there's a name like "Kamakawiwo'ole" in there. 5X fast, just try it, i dare you.
other's concepts of "creative writing" can stop you dead, though... and sometimes, just sometimes, the subject matter is priceless.
i was half way through one in particular, at about 3:30... some Celtic pus party, when i got to the theme: "Enter the Haggis". written just like that.
that's when the giggles started.
there are these tight-assed rules we have handed down to us, about "not embellishing the written PSAs" or the G-Men will fine the station, or force us to work out our indebtedness as hustlers at Rustler's, or some other scrotal-shrinking embarrassment. but i just couldn't help it. i kept seeing a BruceLee trailer in my head that never was... all kicking and howling and bladder-filled oats-n'-beef superimposed against a shoji screen.
this is why i will never make any money with radio. but what a movie i will create. and instead of: "revenge is a dish best served cold",
it will be: "hard words break no bones, fine words butter no parsnips"
...and...
"I've eaten parsnips and come to the conclusion that anything a parsnip can do, a carrot can do better."
...and i will give GolfWidow royalties. 'cause you can't fake genius like that. pity the poor haggis. the only one i've ever seen was this pitiful freeze-dried, vacuum-sealed little turd with at twenty-dollar price tag in the Brit store. if it got the traditional Scots ceremony, it would have been scaled back with the pan flute instead of bagpipes... not stabbed with a saber, but a fondue skewer. so, all in all, a good friday. i got my shades back from Biggles, after they languished at his house for a month, while he pranced around at JazzFest. now i'll be stylingly appointed for the GangOfFour show, next Friday in DC.
and i got a call during the show from SlickWillie... that demon neighbor, the ultra-right-wing-has-it-all-and-wants-more vet spent some of his filthy lucre on surveyors, to prove that i was encroaching on his land (my grandmother's land that he had shed farm equipment and dead animals on for decades). instead, he lost a big chunk to the GPS survey, and they sprayed pink paint all over his affected area. hope it was his asshole.
i have pictures to take tomorrow. and paint to spray.
and a cold dish to savor.
and it didn't cost me a cent.
.
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