Monday, June 11, 2007

Surgery

The best thing that happened since my last post was Mark Cross leaving the morning show on Yes FM. Thank fucking god!! Somewhere between wise cracks and fake accents those two jokers lost the concept of radio. Which was primarily to PLAY MUSIC. Shack is as funny as drinking your own vomit and Mark just don’t know when to shut up. Tracy on TNL did the best moring show I’ve listened to. Now that’s one funny radio jock. I still remember the day she played “lankawe ape lankawe” by the Gypsies on the show. That’s kick ass DJing. Shack, dude I’m sorry to say that the only people who listened to you guys were recent middle management retards who still head bang listening to Summer of 69. So please do us all a favor and get another job.

I did come across a few interesting social situations that made me think however. If this post feels like surgery, please stop reading now. The worst curse you can carry in life would be not to fall in love. Imagine going through your entire lifetime but not falling in love. The social circumstances around you prevent you from feeling the essence of life itself. It’s quite amazing the number of people you would find in this social paradigm if you listen hard enough. Getting stuck in a marriage when you are barley out of your teens and before you know it fifteen years go by and three kids come along. All this and you’ve not even reached you 35th birthday. Suffocating isn’t it? I want to do so much in life. I want to meet so many people. Visit so many places. It’s obvious we all not wired the same way but you speak to these people and realize that when they started out they had a lot of potential and hope by somehow it never really panned out quite like how they expected. Guess if its anything, life is full of surprises. The good, the bad and the ugly.

This post is, sort of, all over the fking place as I have been over the past few months. April and May was like going through surgery. People came and went. Functions were attended. Plans were made. Deadlines were missed. I lost myself in the whole eruption of materialistic orgasms. Not being able text “my favorite mistake” didn’t help either. So here’s hoping that the next few months will be something to celebrate about.