This time it was the DJ

When will I ever learn?

Listening to the radio (again) and not enjoying it (again). This time it was the DJ that ticked me off.*

*It's not just one station. Obviously if there was just one station that made my veins pop I'd just remove it from my pre-programmed list. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I'm a flipper, and half the time I don't even know which station I'm even listening to.

He was complaining about his wife. He said she dresses up nice for work, but as soon as she gets home she changes out of the nice clothes and into sweats or lounge pants or whatever.

Now, I know the radio is all about razzing people, razzing yourself, and razzing in general. This not going to be a post about a DJ complaining. Ha, I was going to say "complaining about his wife," but really any DJ complaining about anything is not post-worthy. All they do is complain!

But no, it's the content of his complaint; that's what I have a beef with. I wanted to call in and give him the what-for, but . . . only hillbillies do that.**

**No, really I just didn't have the phone number or the motivation to find the number. I'd rather complain about it in a post. Har har.

Now, I'm just a TAD sensitive to this topic, having been accused of the exact same thing by my husband. The difference is I don't change into sweat pants, and I don't really dress up that much for work either. So changing out of khakis into jeans, or (on occasion) into my pajamas a little early, doesn't seem to me to be that big of a deal. I went out and got some leggings though, which look much cuter than PJ bottoms, and allow me feel more comfortable in my own home.

Anyway, my own life isn't really the point here. We've worked it out; I just got all fired up because the DJ was just so unrealistic about life.

I wanted to ask him: how much do you fix yourself up for her?

Am I wrong? This seems to be a common theme for the men species: they like to complain about the ladies not fixing ourselves up, but what on earth do they ever do to fix themselves up for us? I think, grammatical paroxysms aside, it's a fair question.

He said something about the kids (an obviously insincere token toward fairness that her baggy clothes are somehow justified by her taking care of the kids)(he totally didn't mean it), but I really wanted to ask him: when was the last time you took your wife out on a date? When was the last time he took her on an official, pre-planned, not on a non-work day, the babysitter has been arranged, "Let's go to dinner at This Particular Well Known Fancy Restaurant" type of date? I mean, good grief, buddy. Get a clue.

That's the other difference between this DJ's asshole comment and my wonderful husband: at least he takes me out on a date every once in a while. We're both homebodies, so we don't go out a lot, but we prefer doing things on the cheap, so it's not a problem. But the DJ's wife obviously cares about her appearance enough to make an effort for her coworkers; why doesn't the DJ turn the pointing finger on himself and ask why she isn't putting the effort in for him? What could he do to make her want to put the effort in?

I don't think bitching about it on the radio is the appropriate solution here. Take some responsibility, bucko.

What a tool.

Another tool on the radio

I think the same jackass that I posted about who called into the radio after Michael Jackson died just called in about the 75-year-old woman who beat a fawn to death with a shovel.

Personally, I don't get all the hubbub. It's sick, sick, sick. And wrong, wrong, wrong. And I wouldn't have done it if the fawn was in my garden--I just would have felt blessed. But there are a lot of people out there that are sick and wrong do things I wouldn't do. It makes me sad that I'm saying that, because I think it means there are so many sickos out there, when someone does something sick I don't think it's newsworthy anymore. You know, it's not like she held a baby over the edge of a balcony (what are we going to do for news now that MJ's gone?).

Anyway, this guy called into the radio and said, "Would it have made a difference if she shot it instead?" The DJ asked where he was going with that, and then asked the caller, "Well, would you just shoot baby rabbits for no reason?" And this horrible, awful man responded, "Well, they're pests. If they're eating your garden . . . [and trailed off implying he was thinking If they're eating your garden, who cares? Or perhaps, they deserve it]." And then he said something that absolutely horrified me: "They're just animals. God meant for people to have power over animals. It says so in the bible."

EXCUSE ME?!

Correct me if I'm wrong, but this bastard thinks it's okay to just run out and shoot or kill or beat animals to death if they're "inconvenient" because God said so? Pardon me, but what the BLEEPIN' hell? Really, that's what he thinks? Really that's his interpretation of the bible?! Really, he said that on the radio?

"Really?!" I exlaimed in a high, squeaky voice.

Why isn't there a stronger word to express my feelings? I'm appalled. I'm mortified. I'm infuriated. I'm thunderstruck. I'm scandalized. I'm revolted. I'm stupefied. I'm traumatized. These are all true, but none are quite right because I'm EFFIN' PISSED!

I'm disgusted.

So disgusted in fact, that I changed the station. Now I have no clue what kind of response the DJ had. Was he appalled too? Did he (oh horror!) agree? What kind of world am I living in that people can call into the radio and say that it's okay to beat animals to death with a shovel because God said so?!

I have so many outraged thoughts rolling around in my little brain that I don't even know where to start or how to get them all down. I wish I could talk to that chump, but honestly it's probably better that I not. He thinks he's entirely justified; we've got small town folk here, with small town thoughts. That's blunt, and mean, and a total stereotype. And I don't care! I'm mad, and I'm blaming small town mentality. Put that in your butt and smoke it.

Why do close-minded hillbillies* with small town mentality get to run around spouting their uneducated, ignorant thoughts, while I'm stuck being PC and educated and bottling up my feelings?

*Hillbillys? As a practically made-up word, I would have thought it retained the Y, but Blogger spell check says "ies" -- who am I to argue?

So go ahead, call me a snob for letting it all hang out there. Call me pretentious for saying a stereotype out loud (or, er . . . writing it, I suppose). Or, go the other way and call me a close-minded hillbilly for lumping one close-minded jerk in with all hillbillies and then saying all hillbillies are close-minded.**

**Doesn't that just make me a poor mathematician in an "If A equals B and B equals C, then A must equal C" type of way? Remember the overlapping circles in algebra class, and how the MUST was the killer of the sentence? Was I the only one awake in that class?

Calling me names isn't going to change the fact that the guy that called into the radio is the Bad Guy here, and the barbarity of his statement is far worse than any supposed, uppity, negative character points I may be racking up for generalizing. I'm a hillbilly, you're a hillbilly, we're all hillbillies . . . but he's the only creep that called into the radio and said ON AIR that it's okay for a 75-year-old lady to beat Bambi to death with a shovel because God said so.

I mean, how can I keep quiet about this? Just for fear of coming off as un-PC or arrogant? I'm not going to tacitly condone the beating of a baby deer to death just because of the anti-PCness of saying that hillbillies are close-minded.

I could be PC and not say it, but doesn't that just turn "being PC" into meaning that you don't get to say what you're thinking? Or, to the umpth extreme, that the only people who get to say what they think are the close-minded hillbillies? That's positively ridonkulous. I know, I'm deliberately misinterpreting and over-generalizing and uber-facetious-izing and whatever else, but I'm just so furious. I want nothing more than to tell this guy he's a debilitated burro rectum (that's PC for sicko asshole).

I'm just calling it as I see it.