All aboard

Listening to late night Q107 and on comes some Ozzy Osbourne. I like Black Sabbath, but I am not an Ozzy fan. I find him trite, as a person. I am told this is a bit of a contradiction, and that a person can't like Black Sabbath without liking Ozzy Osbourne, because he is Black Sabbath. I appreciate him, musically. That is the extent of it. I often get the sense that he's really making an effort to be exceptionally insane, and I can't abide that. It's like emo kids, and pseudo-intellectual textbook psychology angst. I can tell they're working hard at it. Also, I had to endure the popularity of his reality t.v. show, which in turn spawned a talk show for his wife, and resulted in his children making the tour of various sitcom guest spots and hosting on S.N.L. I can't forgive him for that.

The song on the radio was Crazy Train, which always makes me think of the Pink Floyd song Have a Cigar, which is recognizable for it's lyrics, "riding the gravy train".

I think that would be the best kind of train to have go off the rails. There'd be gravy everywhere, and it would be a bit of a mess, but oh! it's the most delicious mess there ever could be, and could be easily cleaned up by an army of dogs and turkey enthusiasts.

This is what happens when S. and I are apart and I am left to my own devices. I should be sleeping (S. is such a normal person that he keeps me on a regular sleeping schedule but he has gone back to the apartment to await the arrival of our new fridge tomorrow) but am instead imagining the mash-up of a crazy gravy train going off the rails. Goddamnit I'm hungry. It'll be a good four months until Thanksgiving with turkey and gravy. It's not something that can be whipped up in the middle of the night.