Hakka,about an hour after arriving at my kindergarten class I was promoted so I missed that experience but,I'm sure you're in your own adorable way trying to attack my intelligence.
I'm assuming Ron and Darkchild are one and the same...if so, you must the genius that asked during your show who the president of Canada was. Not once in a slip of the tongue kinda way, but over and over in that endearingly repetitive way that acts as a theme for the rest of the show. It was a while back during some Canadian promo week but given that you obviously excelled at kindergarten, I can only wonder if at those giddy heights of educational excellence, you got promoted right out of the school system altogether.
I have the misfortune of having only a radio in the car and spend my return journey home with the last 15 minutes of Jeff "the complete twat" Locker followed by some rambling buffoon, who sounds as if he's trying to talk while chewing on a mouthful of chicken's foot. The utter banality of Ron "wacky funster" Stewart is bearable only by trying to guess what the f*@k he's talking about, and that he does signal the end of Jeffu's 15 minutes of pain. Blissfully the two shows are interupted by the BBC news, if only for a few well enunciated minutes.
In all honesty I still listen every night. I often think about turning off the radio, buying a CD player, chewing through my own spinal cord or on occassion, just walking the 20 kilometers to work. In the darkest moments of the unintelligble phone ins, whip cracking, canned laughter, I contemplate simply driving into the nearest concrete wall. If I thought my car was fast enough to end it all I probably would, but the thought of being left a mental cripple, a mindless vegetable is to much to bear, given that on waking from my coma I would undoubtedly be snapped up to DJ on ICRT. Thus my circle of shame would be complete. Ron, your show makes me laugh, I fear at you, not with you.
The only saving grace about your show, is its total lack of redeeming entertainment value. Meaning my few protesting brain cells are left to concentrate fully on my driving, thus ensuring a safe return journey home.
The blinding, nauseating migraine that follows each broadcast sends satanic fingers of white hot agony searing along my ganglia bringing blood dripping form my nose, the sight of which reminds me to thank you Ron for helping me not only to safely negotiate Taiwan's traffic, but also for helping me to realize that sadder, more boring, utterly incapable people do exist in the world, also doing jobs for which they have no right or reason to be doing. My own vast incompetencies seem to pale into insignificance.
Stated simply dear Ron, You help me think I'm a better person. For that peace, longevity and thanks.[/i]