I'm a moron, and I'll be the first to admit it. However, I do have a very tenacious sense of self-importance that never leaves me, despite how big a moron I can be. On that note, here's the stupid thing I did, for your consideration.
There's a woman I work with, a jock on another of our company's stations who I see every day because we're all housed in the same building. This woman (we'll call her Rhonda), although frequently kind, is plagued with a sort of persecution complex. That's the best name for it that I can come up with, anyway. I'm quite free with the self depreciating humor, myself. Being a hater of confrontation, it pays to only say things about myself...'cause if I make me mad, I know I can kick my butt. That makes me feel a lot more confident while I pass the hours at work waiting for go-time, when I finally meet myself out back and teach me a freakin' lesson. Anyway. Rhonda always thinks folks are plotting against her. She can get angry and tear up faster than you can say Bob's your uncle. I have at the least thrice been accused of plotting against her, but never once have I actually been guilty. But oh, what she must be thinking right now.
Today, I was running in and out of the production studio during my live show, trying to get a song parody recorded for the next day's broadcast on our talk-radio station. Leaving the control room is strongly discouraged, by the way...especially when you have the wit of a domestic turkey. (Apparently, when you're not in the room and the song ends, well, that's bad.)
Anyway. At one point during my to-and-fro festival, I happened to notice that the control room TV screen (left forever on the Fox News channel) said, "Miners Freed!" "WOW! That's great!!!", I thought. I'd been praying for these guys to be returned to their families safely, and I was happy...so before I dipped back into the production room to lay down the next track, I told Rhonda the good news. "Are they ALL out?", she asked, and I said I wasn't sure but it looked that way, as the headline said, "Miners Freed!" and not "Ten Miners Freed! Three Miners Out Of Luck". Rhonda had to have adjusted her control room television at that point, because she said, "I see it now, thanks!", so I went back into the production room and didn't think about it again.
Until I came out later to find the miners were not free.
They were still stuck.
Apparently, I'd caught my glimpse while Fox News was milking the story by digging up a similar story (in this case, the couple-years-back cave-in in Pennsylvania) and re-running it in order to hold the floor and pass the time while God made more news.
As I feared, Rhonda immediately announced the happy news of freed miners, only to be immediately rebuffed by a listening public who happen to be both paying attention and NOT RETARDED.
I'll bet she thinks I stayed up all night crafting some way-ANY WAY!!!-to make her look like a twit. She'll be all dewy-eyed and steamed tomorrow, and there will be no convincing her that I didn't plot and execute this dastardly trick on purpose like Snidley Whiplash with boobs.
So I've decided to just point at her and laugh right off the bat.
I'll let you know how she loves that.
UPDATE:
I'm at work now and talked to Rhonda sans the pointng and laughing (because I'm not only a moron, but also a lying douchebag). And guess what? She did indeed think I had loaded her with misinformation for the sole purpose of watching her broadcast it like a stooge.
Yes. I concede. You got me, Rhonda. I'm not confident enough to carry on without plotting to destroy you. Yes, Rhonda, I'm going to conquer you because I want your part-time head on a platter. I want your skull opened, emptied, and refilled with a kicky onion dip. I want to arrange Triscuits about your head and shoulders and invite all my friends to partake of your utter and complete failure against my mighty radio show. I'm gonna rip out your greasy heart and eat it while sitting atop your ripening corpse, and I'll do it all live on the air. IN YOUR TIME SLOT.
Naaaaaaaaaaah.
I actually came here to repair a small typo which I noticed while egotistically reading over my own crap...and I got carried away on a wave of what can only be called cynical irony. Two days ago (it's 1/11) I was informed that the company heads have been knocking together without my knowledge and have decided, pending the consultant's approval, to remove me from the country station and in fact place me directly in Rhonda's spot, effectively cutting her throat...just like she thought.
Shit.
They say she gets canned either way. Now I have to harbor this horrible inside info until it's either done or shot down.
Either way I'm not really gonna eat her heart. (Lying douchebag, remember?)
