Today is the last Tim Conway, Jr. show – Saturday edition. Good for him. He deserves the whole weekend off.
So what happens now? Rotating tryouts.
Next week – Lisa Ann Walter sits in.
After that – Who knows?
I have a confession. I went a little crazy today, as evidenced in the following photograph.
But to be fair, I put the song on repeat to punish my kid for choosing the wrong restaurant for dinner. So that accounts for like 15 of the plays.
(What? You don’t punish your kids with repetitive talk radio show themes? What do you do, like have a reasonable discussion followed by appropriate discipline and follow-through? Hm. Sounds boring.)
Anyway…recently I learned by way of my friend’s mom that you shouldn’t pray for people getting things done to their hineys. Fair enough. But maybe you could pray for people with an uncontrollable urge to listen to Gary Hoffmann sing in German?
Sie wissen, wie Teresa Strasser sagt, sie hat eine leichte NaziFantasie? Sie liebt die große, blonde deutsche Männer mit großen Stirn.
Ich glaube, alle Frauen teilen diese Phantasie. Ein bisschen. Es ist Ralph Fiennes Schuld. Wir möchten nicht wie Nazis, aber wir können nicht helfen.
Gute Nachrichten, liebe Kolleginnen. Sie können jetzt fühlen Sie sich frei auf Deutsch dudes ohneStigmatisierung zu zerquetschen.
Oh? You don’t read German? This is what Google Translate thinks I wrote:
You know, says Teresa Strasser, she has a slight Nazi fantasy?She loves the big, blond German men with big foreheads.
I think all women share this fantasy. A little. It is Ralph Fiennes debt. We do not like Nazis, but we can not help.
Good news, ladies. You can now feel free to German dudes without stigma crush.
In 1998 I lived in the middle of nowhere. 30 miles from the nearest grocery store. 60 miles from the nearest hospital. 80 miles from the nearest Chinese food (which, by the way, was mall Chinese food and, therefore, not really Chinese food at all).
But only like…across the highway from the nearest llama. So THAT was totally awesome.
Our town had only one postal worker – the Postmaster. (Hey – if you’re the only one there, I guess you get to call yourself whatever you want.)
I worked from home all day. All alone in a house with patterned blue carpet and fluorescent lights in every room.
My neighbors were mostly alcoholics. And perpetrators of domestic violence, along with their victims, of course. Which was fine though because we didn’t have a police department anyway.
So yeah…I basically had no friends.
But I did have talk radio. Granted, it wasn’t super high-end talk radio. It was more like G. Gordon Liddy and Dr. Toni Grant.
One time a woman called into the Dr. Toni Grant show to say she discovered her husband was having inappropriate relations with sheep.
I was like – Will someone PLEASE invent a thing called iTunes and a device called an iPod and something called a podcast and a person called John Hodgman? And will the invented person called John Hodgman PLEASE impart on me all world knowledge AND ALSO pretend to be a judge and solve relationship-y disputes?
Thank you, Universe. That will be all.
Sometimes it’s fun to look at the search terms people used to find this site. Today one made me go – Huh?
Search term: hot mathletes
And then I looked at the specific post that term matched and I was all – HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Matching post: Mathletes are hot
I wrote a post called Mathletes are hot?!?! Totally don’t remember writing that.
Warning: This post is mainly for chicks. If you’re a dude, you might want to take a powder. Which should be fine cuz there are practically no guys who are into talk radio. Talk radio is like…real heavy on ovaries.
And speaking of ovaries…
Gina Grad, you did me a big favor by turning me on to the Period Tracker app. It’s awesome – I don’t know how I menstruated without it. (Sorry men…I warned you.)
So Gina. I’m very excited to repay your kindness by telling you to PLEASE stick it out with The Wire. You are going to be SO happy you did.
Because of this.
P.S. Hey Period Tracker app people. Enhancement request from a guy friend of mine… Please allow the tracking of multiple chicks’ periods. Because you know “in case you’re wrangling a lot of bitches and you need to find good week.” Um…thanks?
Hello, Jack? I’m Annette.
Some of you have wondered why I’ve been so generous and complimentary lately. You’re like – What’s going on with you? You seem so happy. Did you get a new kitten? Are you pregnant? Are you in love? And I’m all – No…I don’t think so…and no.
So lest you think I’ve become too soft, here’s a list of people who are doing it wrong.
Heidi and Frank – They open the show with various songs that have two things in common. They’re super long and they’re super annoying. Actually, the entire show is filled with terrible music.
Pretty Good Podcast – Sorry, Randy. I’m totally glad you have a girlfriend. Will you please just call her your girlfriend? Or at least make up a new, normal name for her? Something like Rachel or Emily or Brooke? I mean, I get the Apollonia significance, but c’mon. Unless you’re actually Prince, you can’t call your girl Apollonia.
KFI – Alright, we’ve had our Frosty trial. Enough. He’s not getting better. He’s getting worse.
by Jennifer Saunders
Before I tell you why Wayne Resnick matters, allow me to please apologize to Mr. Resnick, as I’m sure he’s grown weary of my ebullient and effusive outpouring of compliments. He really should tell me to shut up please. (But now I have to beg him to not actually do that because it will hurt my feelings. Please.) Just know that I know that you know that I know that you know. We know. We’re smart.
Phew. Now that that’s out of the way…
Wayne Resnick matters because he discusses Libyan rebels just as easily as he discusses Rebecca Black.
Wayne Resnick matters because he works in Søren Kierkegaard references during said Rebecca Black discussions.
Wayne Resnick matters because he forces you to, not only use Scandinavian letters in your blog post, but to spell Scandinavian correctly. Also, he forces you to Google the phrase, ‘o with a slash in it’ to 1) find out what that’s called 2) find out the keyboard shortcut for typing ø on a Mac.
FYI…it’s called an ø (who woulda figured?). Also, FYI…it’s option+o. Again, FYI…I’m really enjoying myself typing øøøøøøø over and over. Try it. See…isn’t it fun? I’m gønna start typing English øs like this just tø be alternative.
I’m a mom. And sometimes as a mom you feel motherly to kids who aren’t really your kids. Like I couldn’t have been more proud of Neville in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
And sometimes you just want to give hugs and homemade cookies and coloring books and new boxes of crayons to kids like Sally Draper. (Season 4 Sally Draper. Not seasons 1-3 Sally Draper. She was a brat.)
So, yeah, I kinda want to give Rebecca Black a new box of crayons. But maybe she’s too old for crayons. How about this?
I’ll make the Friday song even WORSE, so people will laugh at me instead of her. And what could make it worse faster than inserting indiscriminate talk radio references? Right. I’m a great mom.
Five AM, waking up in the morning
Gotta Re-Todd, gotta Gary Hoffmann
Gotta have i heart, gotta have radio
Hearin’ everything, the show is goin’
Tickin’ on and on, everybody’s laughin’
Gotta download to my iPod
Gotta go to work, I hear Carolla
Listenin’ to Luke Burbank
Lovin’ the News Bender
Gotta Pretty Good Podcast
Which show can I hear?
It’s Friday, Friday
Gotta get Steck on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend
Gettin’ talk on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ for Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me
KFI, KFI (Yeah)
TRO, TRO (Yeah)
Bill, Marc, Rob, Tim
Lookin’ forward to the weekend
Here’s the instrumental version so you can sing along. I know you want to. :)
Wait! Don’t stop reading just cuz this is a repost. This part right here is BRAND NEW!
Tonight my absolutely favorite sports person (well, besides Bob Boone) Petros Papadakis sang the LONG Timmy Time theme live on the Tim Conway, Jr. show.
It is with no hyperbole that I tell you it was one of those talk radio moments that I’ll always remember. Timmy Time is SO important, you guys.
From January 25, 2011…
Here’s a scene from my Pre-Timmy Time life…
Me: Oh, 7:01. Hm. Tim’s coming on soon. Let me just finish this episode of House Hunters/wash these dishes/organize my earrings/look up the lyrics to the Raveonettes’ You Want the Candy online and I’ll catch TCJ in a bit.
Here’s a scene from my Timmy Time (long edition) life…
Me: Oh, 7:01. (To everyone who happens to be in my house or car…) TIMMY TIME – FOUR MINUTES!!!!! Turn on KFI/turn up volume/tell friends and family to please shut up and get ready to sing.
Similar to that initial low, bassy, electronic vacuum-sounding buzz that kicks of the Main Street Electrical Parade composition, the opening notes of Timmy Time are evocative and pregnant with verisimilitude.
Everyone becomes instantly enchanted and mesmerized. Then we sing. And dance. And celebrate. And we listen to KFI for three straight hours.
Timmy Time is important. We need it back. It’s a celebration of community and humanity and freedom.
It’s America. In the best way possible.
P.S. If you believe in America, please LIKE - Bring Back the LONG Timmy Time Theme on the Tim Conway, Jr. Show. Thanks. You’re a huge stud.