Do yourself a Halloween favor and tell the kids trick-or-treating is canceled this year. Go ahead and lay the old all the candy is full of pot excuse on them.
Because…
KFI is interrupting your regularly scheduled Frost Stilwell fill-in to bring you (probably a rerun of last year’s) Theatre of Doom tonight 7-10pm.
Bwahahahahahahhaha.
Update: So…not a rerun. Also, not as good. Scottish accent cheap way to mask subpar dramatic reading ability.
Here’s some photographic evidence of the following:
1. I’m clearly avoiding doing anything constructive or important today.
2. I used to listen to music radio.
3. I pretended I was sick so I could stay home from school when I was like 13 .
4. I not only stayed home and listened to the radio, I called in for some contest.
5. I won $106!!! Woooooooooo!!!
Or, you’re a really good teacher, Harry.
Fair Warning
I am probably going to say some things that sound sexist and unprogressive. I, in no way, mean to disparage men or women.
Please don’t call Gloria Allred, Tammy Bruce, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Gloria Steinem, Hillary Duff, or Taylor Swift.
OK. Here’s a conversation I recently had with my brother…
Him: I can’t listen to Teresa’s news on the Peter Tilden show. It’s so liberal.
Me: She has to have SOME fun.
Him: She wasn’t like that on the Adam Carolla show.
Me: Well yeah, because she was happier there. She’d rather be with Adam but she has a strong work ethic and an obligation to her family to make money, so she takes the job with Peter Tilden that pays money, even though it’s not what she wants to do. So to make it bearable, she gives a liberal slant to the news. It’s for her. It gives her some pleasure in that depression city that is KABC. Get it?
Him: Wow.
Me: It’s just like Cho Chang and her complex feelings.
No idea what I’m talking about? C’mon people…Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix? It was like two movies ago.
Alright fine. I’ve transcribed the scene for you. Set-up info: Harry and Cho Chang kissed at the end of Dumbledore’s Army practice. Cho was crying.
Hermione: Don’t you understand how she must be feeling?
Ron/Harry: (Blank, clueless faces.)
Hermione: Obviously she’s feeling sad about Cedric, confused about liking Harry, guilty about kissing him, conflicted because Umbridge is threatening to sack her mom from her job at the Ministry, frightened of failing her O.W.L.s because she’s so busy worrying about everything else.
See? It’s totally the same thing.
So, yeah. I’m the brand new Hermione Granger. Look at me.
www.ihearttalkradio.com
Annual Shareholder Meeting
25 October 2010
(What? We’re anglophiles here.)
Agenda
Two interesting anecdotes followed by an impressive segue into a talk radio thing, concluding with a spectacular summary.
In Attendance
Jennifer Saunders, President, Founder, and CEO
Barry from Omaha (I hope! Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?)
Anyone monitoring this site for journalistic integrity
Interesting Anecdote #1
So I was at the laundromat (classy, I know) with my super-cute laundry baskets and this chick comes up to me.
Her: Where did you get those?
Me: Um…The Container Store.
Her: Where’s that?
Me: By South Coast Plaza.
Her: ???????????
Me: In Costa Mesa.
Her: Oh.
The look on her face demonstrated that I could have told her it was at McMurdo Station. (Btw, how AWESOME would it be for those guys at McMurdo to have a Container Store? I mean, they need stuff like this, right? Who doesn’t need that?) She lives in Orange County. And yet she is never going to make it to Costa Mesa. Ever.
Interesting Anecdote #2
This one time I was on a Moon Walk (kinda like a nighttime nature hike where you learn about the native plants and animals and talk about the phases of the moon) at Crystal Cove State Park . The woman leading our group is also in charge of school field trips.
Her: I had this group of 4th graders here today and one boy kept asking me if this was the real ocean.
Him: That’s really the ocean?
Her: Yeah, it’s the Pacific Ocean.
Him: REALLY? The for-reals ocean?
Her: Yeah, totally for-reals. It’s all ocean-y and everything.
This boy lived in Santa Ana. He was 9 years old. He had NEVER SEEN THE OCEAN.
Impressive Segue
Sometimes things seem impossible. We have a dejected mindset and a narrow field of view. We think we’re not good enough to want more.
I guess it’s easy to pity or make fun of people who won’t drive to Costa Mesa. Even when they will be overwhelmingly stunned by all the pretty storage solutions contained therein. And it’s easy to feel tremendous empathy for a kid who lives 12 miles from the beach and barely believes in the ocean.
But in my nerdy, talk radio-ish way I do the same thing. I’ve been pretty set in my talk radio/podcast listening ways. I might check out a new show here or there, but I never really venture out of my narrow bubble.
Last week I decided that’s not the kind of person I want to be. I want to be better. I deserve to listen to good talk radio and I’m emphatically committed to making it happen.
Summary
The ocean doesn’t come to you. Get on a bus if you have to. But make it happen.
So…latel KFI has been scheduling a decent number of Frost sit-ins on the Tim Conwa, Jr. Show. As well as a heav number of Frost fill-ins on the weekend.
Are we to assume that Frost is out of retirement? Did he alread grow wear of all the earl morning breakfasts, bingo plaing, bell dancing, biccling, Habitat for Humanit house building, butterfl watching, genealog, kaaking, photograph, potter, puppetr, reading to the elderl, sk diving, food pantr working, oga, and o-oing?
I abnormall, absolutel, abstractl, absurdl, abundantl, academicall, acceptingl, accidentall, achingl, acousticall, acrimoniousl, acrobaticall, actinicall, activel, adorabl, affectionatel, agitatedl, allegoricall, alliterativel, alphabeticall, anaerobicall, approvingl, asexuall, austerel, avidl hope so. Azimuthall.
So thanks, KFI. Bringing on Frost was a ver, ver, ver, ver good decision. Thank ou.
P.S. What do we think is the long-term plan here? Sorr, Bill Carroll.
I don’t mean to interrupt your nights of football watching, gambling, drinking, cocktail waitress flirting, Sharon’s sister sexually harassing, ice cream sundae eating, butt dialing, Facebook flame war inciting, computer breaking, computer shooting, wife’s ass kissing, bad car deal complaining, midnight snack eating, cat rescuing, pain pill popping, sleep apnea denying, squelched out whining, secret eating, and wife’s money spending…but…
GET THE EFF BACK TO WORK!
Fine – it’s not a real job. I get it. But seriously, how hard is it shoot the ess with your friends for a couple hours?
And this Justin Levine is soooo going after your fake job. He’s all, “I’ll do the news! Pick me! Pick me!”
But the thing is, Rob. No one wants to pick him. Everyone wants you. Why do you have to be so god damned difficult?
Now…back to work with you!
So yeah…it’s Saturday night. You know what that means – Date Night! And in the absence of any interesting and likable men to go out with, I took my favorite nerd to see a nerdy movie about a famous nerd. Because I’m a cool mom like that.
(Oh, and I also bought a super cute top at Old Navy for $3. Because I’m a girl and a thrifty shopper.)
Sorry, back to the movie… The lesson learned is this. Sometimes bloggers write some stupid ess. When it’s 4:00 in the morning and you’re drunk and your girlfriend dumped you. Or when it’s the middle of the day and you’re remarkably sober and your radio people want you to give them $50 a year to continue your relationship.
But if we bloggers can’t publicly admit we were wrong, what kind of people are we? So here comes my confession…
I know I said I wasn’t subscribing to the Heidi & Frank Show. But I caved. I’m totally a full-fledged VIP member. So when y’all see me traipsing about Southern California in a Scotch Lobster hat…um…say hi?
Well, say hi and then tell me to take that stupid hat off cuz I’m messing up my hair. Deal?
Or, damn you Frank Kramer.
Or, call off the chickens!
Or, Kars 4 Kids can shove it up my a**.
(I can keep doing this but that would be super lame so I’ll stop.)
Or, Tootie, Frank and Frost.
(Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’ll totally stop now.)
Or, looking for a guy with a jambox.
(I swear I didn’t type that last one! My typewriter is out of control!)
(My typewriter?!?! Who do I think I am? Frank Navasky?)
(I’m sorry that link didn’t do a good job of associating Frank Navasky with typewriters, but apparently there’s a conspiracy amongst the good people who contribute to YouTube to censor all Frank Navasky/typewriter references. I know…it’s a big problem and I intend to get right on it.)
Anyway…
Frank Kramer was a guest on the Pretty Amazing Podcast (episode #324). Wait, I mean the Pretty Good Podcast. And he was good. No, amazing.
(Who’s writing this post? Marginally literate monkeys?)
Just please know that Frank was so incredibly funny and charming that I’m about to throw $5 at him.
He always said he could do it. I had my doubts.
(Please don’t say anything to him.)
I expected chin-face and affected accent and ‘that’s a character I do for the show.’
But what I got was fantastic. It was dynamic and entertaining and interesting and informative. Pretty much everything you want from a talk show. Except maybe news for babies. (Hehe…good one, you.)
So yeah…Frosty Frost Stilwell (one L in the middle there, Gary Lycan) had a great show tonight on KFI. If you missed it, you can download it here.
I’m pretty sure. It’s not actually posted yet but there’s a section for Sunday Guest Host so…I guess just keep checking. UPDATE: The podcast has been posted and it’s mysteriously labeled simply as ‘Frost.’
P.S. I think it’s VERY essy that Heidi and Frank didn’t post any words of support for Frosty on their Twitter/Facebook pages.
P.P.S. Did Frosty delete his Facebook page?
It smells like a sewer. And the indoor pool at the Fullerton YMCA where I took swimming lessons when I was a little girl.
First it’s the clanking of forks against plates and the low rumble of voices. It’s the chairs scraping across the floor and the squeaking of shoes as the wearer quickly changes walking direction. It’s the tinkling of ice in a glass of tap water and the thump-thump as a cup of hot coffee is placed back on the table.
Then it’s a lullaby of buzzing lightning bugs and squeaking crickets. It’s quiet. Until suddenly an eerily vacant voice warns you about dead men and tales.
Next it’s the roar of a waterfall and the singing begins.
Too soon it’s the cacophony. It’s the booming of cannons and the gurgling of a drowning man and the call of an auctioneer. It’s the children scooting closer to their mothers and the kissing and groping of lovers behind you. It’s music and the electronic beeps of cameras being turned on and the impostor-ish opening and closing of a shutter that doesn’t really exist. It’s the shrieking of cats and the crackling of fire and the howling of dogs. It’s the gun fire.
And then it’s the voice again, only this time it sounds like Bill Nighy. Then it’s people – a lot of them – some jubilant, some pissed off, some arguing, some dejected. And there’s a squawking parrot, which seems out of place in this symphony of sounds.
Lastly it’s the mechanical revving of an engine of sorts. Then the gathering of belongings and friends and loved ones.
It’s over. Drink up. Yo ho.
*Excerpted from my fake book – The Sounds and Smells of Disneyland Attractions. Next installment: Soarin’ Over California With a Twist of Orange Glo.