Last night on the car radio I heard what may well be the worst weather forecast I’ve ever heard…whether you take “worst” to mean strangest presentation, or nastiest expected weather.
This was a standard boring-classic-rock-station DJ, female, not normally given to pronunciation difficulties or struggling with awkward metaphors.
“You’re going to need a medic tonight if you like thunderstorms, because that’s what we’re going to have,” she began. “Actually, it can be kind of romantic; you can excape yourself.” She then gave some numbers for temperature and wind, and segued cheerfully into a terrifying assessment of current conditions: “It feels like fallout right now.”
Holy cow, I’m never going outside again after that forecast. She clearly said “fallout” as one word, the “L” sound rolled right into the “ow” sound without a flicker.
But what’s with the bizarre image of needing a medic if you like thunderstorms? And why would I escape (or excape, for that matter) myself if I’m feeling romantic…isn’t it other concerns I’d want to escape? Like garbled imagery and terrifying weather reports?
“If you like thunderstorms, you’re going to need a…no…I mean if you really like them. Ya know, like, really, really like them <wink!>…then you’re going to need a medic”.
Maybe she was making some giant leap from liking Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain and escapes to walking in a thunderstorm while drinking your Pina Colada and either getting hit by lightning or drunkenly stumbling into traffic in which case you would need a medic. As for the fallout, um … I give up because now I have that stupid song stuck in my head!
I think she was in the midst of an in-studio bondage session when the mike went live, and her lover was hovering over her with a cattle prod, and “medic” is her safe word. That’s the only reasonable explanation.
Driving a couple of years ago, radio on, only half-listening to the weatherman doing his usual mind-numbing folksy ramble when he springs this WTF gem on us:
“It was so hot that Lyle Lovett’s hair broke out in a rash.”
…
click
Sorry, Sonny Eliot, I know you’re an amazing person and a fucking institution around here but good lord I can’t stand to listen to you spout garbage like that. I switch channels or turn the radio off now when he comes on.
