I was in the middle of watching Shut Up, Little Man! on Netflix today when I recalled a series of answering machine recordings that I received late one night a number of years ago. Our phone number at the time was one digit off from that of the local access cable company office, and we received a series of irate calls from a viewer. He was outraged over the idiocy exhibited on a local redneck talk show. I looked up the program and the host in question was horrible, yet similar enough to the complainant that there might have been some jealousy involved. The show featured a cooking segment and biscuits and gravy were separated into two separate shows. Anyway, I pulled out the old machine and managed to record one of the messages, but it appears that the original, more lengthy tirade has been lost forever. This following recording was a shorter followup call from the same guy, who apparently was so disgusted by the first show that he was compelled to watch a second one immediately thereafter. I must warn everyone that foul language follows!
