I called, but they said you were unavailable and

offered me a shovel...

Not being acquainted with every aspic of modern

broadcasting, we were chagrined to learn that we could

have been using a satellite feed from some place other on

the globe, with various names and locations dropped in by

computer, rather than having to write, record and edit all

this dreck by ourselves...

Not being acquainted with every aspic of modern

broadcasting, as we might have mentioned, we were further

chagrinated when we discovered how expensive such a

satellite and computer service would be and shuffled back

to our little shack with the manual typewriter, the wire

recorder and the Hallicrafters transceiver.

Sometimes you don't know how good you've got it until you

find out.

We regret to inform of another death or demise in the IPR,

YFITA, family. Binky, the mouse we had been depending on

to eat the nasty tarts the management kept buying by the

boxload from a co-op for the tea cart has fallen prey to a

stray cat. Try as we might, we can't get the cat to eat

the tarts and we haven't yet figured out how to dispose of

them without dipping them into brandy and throwing them

into the woodstove. Anyway, anyone with a spare mouse can

drop it by the station and we will do you the favor of not

mentioning your name on the air.

A list of the offences for which we

are being indicted:

1. 8:57 AM
The

Dimwit Zone: Concealed in the Shrubbery
by Your Other Right Foot
(appearing nightly without

warning)

2. 9:57 AM
The

Queen of the Obvious by Short-sheeting the flower bed, Jr.

3. 9:58 AM
Fear of Vowels...er, voles?
by The Crime of the Ancient

Mariner

4. 10:57 AM
The Homely Homily: This Week, The Most

Reverend Edith Lee Lee by Corpsicle T. Veeblefeester