Earlier this week I got to co-host on my friend Christopher’s college radio show because his former co-host, the spectacular Beb, had gotten too busy with school and life to continue doing it for now, so because of my love for hearing my own ungodly voice I gladly accepted to fill in for her until she feels she’s able to come back, which could be never or could be next week, no one knows…but it probably won’t be next week.
I was a little nervous, mostly because it’s college radio and even though I thought college was supposed to be about expanding your mind you still can’t cuss on college radio, which is fucking ridiculous because by now we should know that words aren’t fucking bad, but rather the context of the words make them bad, but I’ve railed about that enough. It wasn’t hard not to cuss. Despite my penchant for obscene language I don’t feel the need to use it. They’re just like any other words to me. I can find other ways to say things, maybe it won’t convey my point as well as I liked, or sound as good, but it will do. Plus because it’s my friend’s show and not mine I don’t feel the need to try and strongly convey my point on things. I think that makes it more fun and easy going for me, rather than doing the podcast where I often struggle to find the right words to allow the listener to know what’s going on inside my head.
I don’t even remember what we talked about. Something about a woman rubbing her butt on a 30 to 40 million dollar painting, which I thoroughly enjoyed because I’d like to see butt rubbing become the world’s biggest insult. The painting is one of those artsy fartsy paintings that I’m either too smart or too fucking stupid to understand why people think it’s so fantastic. I’m more impressed when people paint like a super realistic mountain or lake with a reflection in it or whatever. I don’t mind really far out weird stuff, particularly surrealism, but the stuff in the vein of Jackson Pollack is just beyond me. Again, I may just be too dumb to understand it.
At some point we talked about rape, I can’t even remember why. Oh, because there was a story about this guy breaking into his ex’s house and cuddling with her and then Chris made a joke about him being in prison and the inmates cuddling with him, only he said it in a way that was funny, not like the way I just wrote it, so listen to the episode to hear that joke – I’ll post a link where you can listen to the show if you’d like, and also see the painting I was just talking about. I’m not sure if we were allowed to talk about rape on college radio, but we did, and it was nice. We didn’t go into brutal detail like we probably would have on the podcast, but we made some cliché dropping the soap in the shower jokes and things of that nature and I found it at least somewhat humorous. Definitely better than when we talked about the zombie fly taking over Bees bodies.
I got to play a song, so that was cool. Yes, much like everybody in the entire world I love forcing people to listen to my shitty music, only unlike most people I don’t assume everyone will love it and then am really surprised and disappointed/offended when they don’t – although on occasion I am, because I am just like everyone else in fact. I wasn’t really prepared for it, so I just picked the song I had listened to the most the previous day, You Know Who You Are by E For Explosion.
I like the band mostly for the lyrics, but overall the songs are enjoyable. The lyrics that struck me most from this song were, “If I could make a promise to give you your last first kiss, would you swear to keep my smile hanging from your lips?” Also in the song he sings, “I’m standing here before you and I know I’m such a wreck. I should be somebody’s mess. I could be your mess.” Which I of course identify with because I’m a wreck, although I don’t necessarily want to be somebody’s mess, I’d like to clean up my miserable act before I allow myself to give my all to someone, otherwise I fear I’ll just keep screwing things up, which I’d like not to do.