The DJ
Scrubbed shiny bright, daytime DJ prepares for the tactical skirmish to come. Considers a flavour for the game…. Anticipates a controversial musical decision, perhaps an advertising foul, free kick, or worst of all, death by text request.
The audience
Walking along the hazardous pitted ground which passes for Cotillo pavement my mind tunes that cerebral radio dial. On the outside listening in, an audience eavesdropper. Pick a tune, any tune and on a good day the lyrics scroll along just above eye level.
Red on black…always red on black.
The tactic
Master of all she surveys, double click on slashed wrist sincerity, just above the phone in voodoo and the perfect audience participation broadcast fits into place, hers for the taking……
The Conflict
We are strangers, on opposing teams. She whispers platitudes in my ear. I am adversary yet supplicant with capitulation my only out. Thus our invisible entertainer cradles sweet victory for another show.
The End - Quid Pro Quo.
No annoying babble nugget of peer pressure, but slick styled presentation, digitally packaged in mpeg. Sent worldwide……. if the world wants.
- Down loaded – digested –
While peeking around angers edge, percussion kicks in…gently at first, rising in volume to a funk, eventually augmented by cutting riff.
One cut at a time please…………….CUT FM…999.99 recurring.
And now a message from our sponsor………………………….
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inapropriate content-----------the end?
Well dear readers (s) if I am writing to an audience of more than one....whomsoever was fiddling with my FB, as you have nothing else to do...
This is great info to know.
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