[Current Mood | nostalgic ]

[Listening To | Canadian news ]

Good morning, y’all. It’s a wet Wednesday here, and I believe our heat wave is well and truly over.

The morning DJs I grew up listening to in Rhode Island are retiring after 36 years, they made an announcement this morning. There’s talk it’s less a retirement and more likely IHeartRadio’s “AI can do your job so we no longer need DJs”, but it doesn’t matter. Sure, they rotated through about a dozen artists’ discographies and I’m pretty sure anything from this millennium was prohibited from entering the studio, but that was our Led Zeppelin/Skynyrd/U2/RHCP station. Paul and Al were a staple of RI radio, feeding my childhood – and well into adulthood – a steady stream of raunchy humor for a listener base that thought Howard Stern might’ve been a bit too much¹. One of them even signed the guestbook of my very first web page sometime back around the turn of the century.

A guy I’ve never seen on CB came into my chat on Monday, tipped², and opened the conversation with “I’ve been trying to catch you on stream for a while now!” and I immediately knew he was a bullshit artist. Firstly, ain’t no one seeking me out. I’m lucky if I break into the top 1000 cams online. Second, it’s giving car warranty spam. He tried to suck up to me, telling me he loved my aesthetic and the vibe I cultivated, and asked how long I’ve been camming.

“I’m eternal”, I replied. He tipped another token and asked the same question. “I’m eternal“, I told him again. “I am the past and the future, and I’ve been here since the beginning.”

That wasn’t enough to stop him, and his next question was what keeps you in the cam business for so long? I leaned into the camera conspiratorially and replied, “I think it’s the autism.”

He left shortly after, when I made it abundantly clear I wasn’t interested in joining “his” cam site. I reported him for trying to pull me off-platform, and made a note on his profile in case he tried again.

And of course he came back – last night. Same username, but now with an extra letter on the end. He was smart enough not to keep going with his bullshitery.

Today, we work. I hear the crows, which means I need to put on some pants and throw some wheat puffs to them.

1. Not all the time, though. I distinctly remember this radio station having an X-rated hypnotist on to “make” a woman cum on the air during an evening commute. ↩︎
2. 1 token. He threw 5¢ at me. ↩︎