I can't recall whether or not I've told you that I worked for a radio station in college.
It was one of those moments in life where I was sure that I wanted to work for a radio station after graduation and about 3 months into the job realized that it wasn't the career for me.
But it was a great job for a college senior with a flexible schedule and a healthy love of country music.
I was broke and the job came with some awesome perks, like meeting all of the acts of Country Thunder one year.
And some not so awesome moments, like drinking so much Fuze outside of a car dealership in the 120 degree heat that I had to excuse myself to throw up in the bathroom.
Haven't touched one of those drinks since that day, and just seeing the bottle makes me minorly ill.
I had an awesome coworker and we had some damn good times.
Besides the Fuze, another aversion I acquired because of that job was an aversion for people who call radio stations.
Look, I get it, DJs rely on idiots to call them to interact and make the show. However, nothing makes me cringe more than listening to the radio and hearing some jackass of a person call into the radio station for no apparent reason.
Seriously, get a life. Radio DJs are not your friends. Unless they are your friends, in which case you can call them on their cell phones because you have that number.
Last week as I was driving to M-town for Biggie's graduation the DJs were asking callers questions from some list titled, "Things Every American Should Know." Or something like that.
And grown adults were calling in and answering the questions in the most asinine way that I wanted to drive my car off a bridge.
DJ: Name one country that borders the United States.
Caller: Europe?
DJ: Who was the first man to walk on the moon?
Caller: Louie Armstrong. No wait, Lance Armstrong.
Seriously, I can not make this up.
As one of my favorite quotes says, Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.
It was one of those moments in life where I was sure that I wanted to work for a radio station after graduation and about 3 months into the job realized that it wasn't the career for me.
But it was a great job for a college senior with a flexible schedule and a healthy love of country music.
I was broke and the job came with some awesome perks, like meeting all of the acts of Country Thunder one year.
And some not so awesome moments, like drinking so much Fuze outside of a car dealership in the 120 degree heat that I had to excuse myself to throw up in the bathroom.
Haven't touched one of those drinks since that day, and just seeing the bottle makes me minorly ill.
I had an awesome coworker and we had some damn good times.
Besides the Fuze, another aversion I acquired because of that job was an aversion for people who call radio stations.
Look, I get it, DJs rely on idiots to call them to interact and make the show. However, nothing makes me cringe more than listening to the radio and hearing some jackass of a person call into the radio station for no apparent reason.
Seriously, get a life. Radio DJs are not your friends. Unless they are your friends, in which case you can call them on their cell phones because you have that number.
Last week as I was driving to M-town for Biggie's graduation the DJs were asking callers questions from some list titled, "Things Every American Should Know." Or something like that.
And grown adults were calling in and answering the questions in the most asinine way that I wanted to drive my car off a bridge.
DJ: Name one country that borders the United States.
Caller: Europe?
DJ: Who was the first man to walk on the moon?
Caller: Louie Armstrong. No wait, Lance Armstrong.
Seriously, I can not make this up.
As one of my favorite quotes says, Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.
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