No one can ever accuse me of being narrow-minded. Let it be known here and now: I am the talk radio queen. My evening ritual consists of this: scour the shelves for my end-of-the-day chocolate reward, walk past the front door and don't stop to see if it's locked because I'm daring like that, go upstairs, look for Henri in his crib (not unlike searching the cage at the zoo for the tiger; you know he's there, sometimes he just blends in with his surroundings), go to the bathroom, brush teeth, pop pill, pee again for good measure, then settle down into bed with my Walkman. Yes, my Sony Walkman. I know, who even has a Walkman these days? I had an iPod, but it just didn't serve me well because, you see, I'm a talk radio addict. Every night I lay down on one side and put the ear phone over my other ear (yes, I know! An ear phone! Not even an ear bud!) and turn on, tune in and drop out. What do I listen to? Anything that will come in, which means I listen to everything from the ridiculous (Bill O'Reilly, who spins more than a cotton candy machine) to the sublime (Clark Howard, "Save More, Spend Less and Avoid Getting Ripped Off").
Sunday evenings present a particularly interesting line-up, which starts with old-timey radio dramas and comedies and then goes to what is quite possibly the worst talk radio show ever, the Joe Mazza Show with his wonder dog Sebastian. Imagine if you will, the dad from Family Guy. Thick Boston accent, not too many synapses bouncing around. This is Joe Mazza. Now, I don't mean to be insulting or rude, but seriously, this show is so bad you almost think it's a parody. Anyhow, I was asleep last night, with the sounds of talk radio weaving in and out of my dreams when I suddenly sprang awake. The conversation had turned to candy.
He was interviewing a woman from Australia who had called in and he asked her what the temperature was there now. She said 17 degrees C. This sent him into a tizzy and he had to know what that translated to in Fahrenheit. She actually Googled it and told him it was about 60 degrees, which then sent him into another tizzy, because he didn't realize it was winter there. Anyhow, she was commenting on how much she loved the States, but was sadly disappointed in our candy bar offerings. WOW! I would've thought that we had more of a selection than Australia, but apparently not. She said she really missed one candy bar in particular-- it was either called Crispy or Crunchy (I can't remember and not surprisingly, the website for the show is not working). She started describing the candy bar, comparing it to a Violet Crumble, but then Joe Mazza cut her off to AGAIN ask her what the temperature was.
Now I'm even more intrigued by Australian candy. If you're a true Candy Yum Yum devotee, you might remember way back when (holy cow, almost five years ago) that I did a candy exchange with my friend Debbie. Such fun! I'll have to talk to her and find out some more about candy down under. I think she's holding out on me.
Sunday evenings present a particularly interesting line-up, which starts with old-timey radio dramas and comedies and then goes to what is quite possibly the worst talk radio show ever, the Joe Mazza Show with his wonder dog Sebastian. Imagine if you will, the dad from Family Guy. Thick Boston accent, not too many synapses bouncing around. This is Joe Mazza. Now, I don't mean to be insulting or rude, but seriously, this show is so bad you almost think it's a parody. Anyhow, I was asleep last night, with the sounds of talk radio weaving in and out of my dreams when I suddenly sprang awake. The conversation had turned to candy.
He was interviewing a woman from Australia who had called in and he asked her what the temperature was there now. She said 17 degrees C. This sent him into a tizzy and he had to know what that translated to in Fahrenheit. She actually Googled it and told him it was about 60 degrees, which then sent him into another tizzy, because he didn't realize it was winter there. Anyhow, she was commenting on how much she loved the States, but was sadly disappointed in our candy bar offerings. WOW! I would've thought that we had more of a selection than Australia, but apparently not. She said she really missed one candy bar in particular-- it was either called Crispy or Crunchy (I can't remember and not surprisingly, the website for the show is not working). She started describing the candy bar, comparing it to a Violet Crumble, but then Joe Mazza cut her off to AGAIN ask her what the temperature was.
Now I'm even more intrigued by Australian candy. If you're a true Candy Yum Yum devotee, you might remember way back when (holy cow, almost five years ago) that I did a candy exchange with my friend Debbie. Such fun! I'll have to talk to her and find out some more about candy down under. I think she's holding out on me.
1 comment:
You read Chocablog, don't you? The Australian-based chocolate review blog? Chocablog.com It's had me lusting after Australian candies myself.
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