He is copying the tape and I’ll wait until I hear it myself. He wants to set up some kind of relay in which the show takes place here in Hollywood. Just the broadcast is in Miami. He is a natural talker, where I tend to need a clear direction or topic before I can open up.If I participate, or write more quips, it is out of pure curiosity. I’ve never worked radio before. DJ Steve (that’s his name) has a ton of free coupons, mostly restaurants, I can have. Me, eat in a restaurant? Maybe I’ll just take the ones for things I don’t normally spend money on, like pizza. He’s got passes to some huge press party up in Tampa this Sunday. Rose Bowl isn’t my thing but he states the VIPs of national press will be there. That is, to me, a significant point. I have nothing against shameless self-promotion. Learned it from the Hippie.
It finally happened. I don’t have enough spare parts around the house any more to slap a working computer together. I sold all my power supplies and the neighbour isn’t going to share the DSL. His wife thinks if he does, we can read their email or something. I biked into downtown and downloaded more lyrics and tabs. I even found what was supposed to be the tab for “Bonanza” but it turns out to be just the lead riff. In the wrong key.
We seem to be the last outpost of Internet access near town center. I know Kinko’s is over on Young Circle, but if you include parking, that place costs $13 per hour. New faces have been showing up although my system is rarely more than 30% busy most of the time. It is slack enough for me to use one of the computers whenever I arrive.
Later. I don’t think Rose Bowl is on my agenda. For starters, I don’t like to leave town unless I have my own vehicle and bastante cash to get myself back no matter what goes wrong. Tampa is a good hike up the gulf coast. I’ll wait for more information because I’d like to say I went to a live game once in my life. It would be doubly nice if advertising revenues picked up the tab. What? Bastante is Spanish for “sufficient”.
Wallace’s buddy is crashing here for a few days. He didn’t know he would become the newest serf for her Majesty, Pudding-Tat I. Pete, that’s his name. Pudding-Tat and him get along so well together. I wonder if he’d like to adopt? One great thing about Pete is that, like myself, he has not watched TV most of his life. That means he knows about stuff, and maybe knows a good cat when he sees one.
The Internet has grown another offshoot. Coverage of women who complain about “bad luck” and on-line dating. This has roots; what do they expect? There are actually two types of women who advertise for a date. The unattractive and the unreasonable. It seems to me on-line is nothing more than the logical extension of want ads and computer dating. There are no darker washroom walls than the Internet. You put your profile and contact information there; you suffer the consequences.
I took a moment to analyze the complaints. (I went beyond the usual grumbling over lying about looks. We already know which sex uses more trickery in that department.) Generally, the women are carping about men who exploit the Internet as a proxy pick-up joint. (Duh, ladies, just what in hell did you expect?) I view such dating as a class of people who truly deserve each other. It is the same crowd who say men only want sex and women only want money. The women whine that if they don’t dress like sluts, the men don’t hit on them. And the men gripe unless they brag and spend money, they can’t get the women. Definitely not a bunch of musicians, I can tell.
One lady has a web site begging for money to put an ad on at the Superbowl for a husband. She was “crushed” to find the man she met on-line was running the same ad in twenty other cities. She appeared on TV and I was expecting to see a brainless 20-year-old. Nope, this broad was pushing 35. Didn’t Darwin have a theory on this? When will she discover one can also be crushed by stupidity?
Sorry, I can’t give more info because it was one of those feminist shows that don’t dare suggest anything is wrong with the woman. Let me formulate a guess, though, why this lady was not going to meet Prince Charming. She was expecting a man who would be attracted to the very things she did not have, most of it physical. She was beady-eyed, flat-chested, pinch-faced, black-haired and Ms. Cyrus wants that hair-style back.
Still, there is no such thing as a woman so ugly some man won’t make a wife out of her. Thus I leave you wondering what is really wrong with such people.
