When no one's listening I have so much to say.

Grrar.

It's been ages since I wrote anything here, and with good reason. My life is an unchanging sea of 'working for the man'. Which is not nice, but tolerable. As long as I get my rent paid on Friday.

Anyway, since this internet loser palace is woefully unused, it's time to, um, un-unuse it. So I'm going to start using it for Singing with Barbra re-caps.

Next week.

And I'll tell you why. Because this week, I have no freaking clue what we talked about. None. Off the air, Jonelle told me that she'd seen Catwoman, and that it did indeed suck as much as the critics promised. Damn, I hate it when they're right. We played some songs, including a track by The Feminists. I don't even remember if it was good, but I don't think it was bad, either. We did some community announcements. Something about the humane society. Oh, there were dogs in the studio - Brandy and Lou(cifer) - the latter holds the title "Barbra .5". He's small. That was pretty distracting. Most of the show I was spitting out floaty hair. So it was "hi, pfeh, this is CJSF, pfbbt, you're pah, listening..." That's some beautiful broadcasting right there.

The one thing I'll say about university radio is that despite the militant attempts to impose professionalism, the constant jack-booting around the station, even the stink eye through short, $4 haircut - we suck and there's nothing anyone can do about it. As much as they fight us, they fight in vain. To some, we're like a tiny, persistent rash. But we'll never be painfully humourless jerks, and that we'll promise you faithfully. It's our credo. Everybody needs one. I need several, but that's beside the point.

But enough of the political claptrap. I'm going to go back to eating my ice cream straight out of the tub, and I'll assault you some more next week. Tuesday, 7-8pm p.s.t., www.cjsf.ca.