One time on a long drive on a lonesome highway at night in Nevada, I was bored and listening to a talk radio show that happened to have a psychic on taking calls.
A woman called in and was upset about what she feared were ghosts in her house. She didn’t use those exact words but spoke instead of noises coming from “the foundations” — and she clearly meant her house foundations.
The “psychic” got it completely wrong and started long-distance-diagnosing the caller’s PSYCHIC foundations and went on a long ramble that the host himself had to interrupt with a politely embarrassed-for-her sake explanation: “No, I think the caller is talking about her house foundations...”
It was a long time ago (though I still remember LMAO) and I don’t remember what the “psychic” said but if there ever was a Gilda Radner Nevermind moment that was it.
On a dark desert highway,
cool wind in my hair.
Warm smell of colitis
rising up through the air.