Valerian and I live on Georgia Street. It's Sun Run day. I don't mind the runners. It's the fucking idiots they get to pump up the crowd and the really, really bad music they play over the PA. While there really is hardly ever a good time for "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor, Sunday bloody morning at 9 a.m. [b]really[/b] isn't it. And why, for crying crap's sake, can't they have someone on the microphone that isn't a shrill, moronic woman?
I'm trying to thing of a way I can accidentally spill about 14 litres of Coke on the P.A. gear and go back to sleep...
Yes, more power to the runners. The amplified cheerlead screetching in false excitement and repitition of one awful "inspirational" song (last year it was the theme to "Chariots of Fire") is what makes this an incredibly annoying event.
Although I did get a good laugh watching the spectators trying to drive away.
So THAT'S what the racket is...I completely forgot about the Sun Run. I'm in the west end, a couple blocks up from Georgia and have been hearing the strains of whatever-it-is all morning. (and no I haven't even bothered to look out the window yet!)
Unfortunately, microphones and shrill morons (of all genders) seem to be an unholy match forged in hell...ours, that is.
That said, good for the runners; they have far more ambition than I on a rainy Sunday morning.
