I had the most dreadful realisation today: I thought I was a unique snowflake but it turns out I'm not the only one who can't stand jazz flute.
Seriously, playing jazz flute is like going nuts blowing a feather around an empty room. An empty room, people.
But back to my dreadful realisation: so I thought I was the only one who, for millenia, had despaired at the breathy, trilly, wince-inducing silliness of the jazz flute but today I discovered that the magnificent Ron Burgundy has stomped around in this fluty bog already. Check this out:
Once Will Ferrell has gotten his hands onto something it can never be considered seriously again: think picking up ladeez at a funeral, rubbing your testicles on your step-brother's drum-kit, and getting off watching grown men act like dragons, acts which, prior to Mr Ferrell's treatment, were perfectly mainstream and acceptable.
Bah unique snowflake, I'll stand with Ron Burgundy any day.