This is so fucking self-indulgent, and believe me, I'm not under the illusion that anyone on this board of fucking degenerates <3 gives a fuck...but I was thinking about it earlier, and I just have to get it off my chest.

When Patrice died, I was wrecked. He was my favorite thing about O&A, and I used to get...embarrassingly excited when I heard he was going to be on. I listened to the eulogy shows, and...after that last Friday, that was the very last full show I ever listened to.

I figured I'd just "take a break," or whatever. It hit me way harder than it ever should have, probably...but it's something you can't explain until it happens to you. You know you're being a Nancy, but you can't stop it.

And it was in that state of mind that I continually heard Jim Norton hold Patrice's freshly dead feet to the coals, to do everything in his power to stop the gushing over the man's talent, to point out how he probably got in his own way in the business, and to point out his flaws at every opportunity.

It was weird. I honestly felt strangely betrayed by Jim. Here was this hugely talented friend of his, and he's trying to be the "realist" in the room while they're probably shopping for a coffin across the city. It was just such...shitty timing. It made Norton seem like a real dick to me, a damaged man with a frail ego who somehow couldn't let his friend's talent and modest legend shine because he was too busy being the fucking hall monitor with shitty undies he secretly is.

There are some words I'm gonna get shit over. "Betrayed," "legend," etc. I get it. We're irreverent, and we tear the show's legacy apart in here. Given what they've become, I'm okay with that. But given that I was still entertained by the show and an everyday listener of 7 years by that point...it was one hell of a disillusionment.

Anyways. Please start telling me what a faggot I am and form a line for the gloryhole.