Like I'll be sitting at my desk and I'll think to myself "Man oh man do I gotta pee!" and right when I stand up, the song starts playing in my head as accompaniment to my quick jaunt to the bathroom.
And then sometimes when I'm shaking my pee hole dry, i'll give it seven quick strokes to the tune of the dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-DUM-DUM.
It's all because of that one day when I forgot to bring any CDs and had to find something on the radio (which I used to never ever listen to) and I happened across NPR. It's all been downhill from there.
This American Life, Car Talk, Whad'ya Know, Fresh Air....I am a regular listener of all of these now and it's carving a serious dent in my musical listening endeavours.
I know. I know. "But, Fu-Fu, NPR is so old hat. We've all been listening to it since the dawn of time."
Well, good for you.
I was too busy listening to the Teenage Fanclub/Jad Fair CD and the new Clientele CD and all of those Lee Hazlewood reissues and the Silver Jews to pay any attention to some old radio. PFFFFFTTT.
(plus the radio in my car didn't work)
But now....now I know what all the fuss has been about.
If only Michele Norris would pronounce her name correctly, everything would be well in the world.
What else....OH! The third season of Mr. Show is gonna be released in a couple of weeks and then, in October, ol' Fu-Fu is gonna have an early Christmas celebration with season 3 of the best fucking show on TV ever, Sanford and Son.
That is if I can wrangle Cristi away from watching Twister or Armageddon for the fourty-fourth hundredth time.
Man that woman can watch some terrible fucking TV.
Lately I've caught her watching Charmed, now that she's seen every episode of Buffy. And for a while there she was actually watching Sliders.
I know.
But she makes up for it in the sack.