I should be focussing on my own show and on today’s release but of course I got to CiTR a little too early.
Which means I’m in the lounge having to listen to the gawdawful hip hop show before me.
Now, I can’t stand the genre at the best of times, though even I admit there are some good tracks in the genre.
But if hip hop is a blech for me in general, nothing is worse than white frat boy hip hop.
And so in mid-March I will be moving the Vampire’s Ball off of Friday nights where it has been for 10 years (not continuously since I went on hiatus for a couple years), to the promised land of Wednesday nights from 1-5am after Hans Kloss, who plays post-punk and new wave and goth and experimental.
In the meantime I have four more Fridays of listening to skinny white suburban twats pretend to be something they’re not, say “word” like their great messiah Vanilla Ice in 1990, toss out N-bombs, and rap about “cracker snatch” that I doubt they’ve ever experienced, only seen on the Internet.
And claim that all this garbage is somehow “pantywetting.” Yeah right. Only if they’re wearing panties under their baggy jeans.
Four more weeks.
And twenty more long minutes tonight.
Note to self: next week bring headphones.
