Actual call to the station just now

Me: Spaceship of Fools!
Caller: Hello. I just wanted to say that I just heard the "F" word.
Me: Well, sir, I really don't think you did.
Caller: Yeah, it was there.
Me: Sir, I check the lyrics of every song I play, and I know the three I've played so far very well, so I don't know what you think you heard, but it wasn't the "F" word.
Caller: What's this song called?
Me: "Think About It" by Flight of the Conchords.
Caller: I'm going to look it up, and then I'll call you back.
Me*: While you're at it, you might want to google this: fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

* In my head. In reality, he slammed the phone down.

I suppose it could be one of the station's many enemies out there; after all, we're the "worst plague ever in eastern Kentucky", so I guess someone could be sitting at home listening to (what he has to consider) perfectly horrible music in the hopes that I might let an errant F-bomb go by. If so, he deserves what he gets--a three-hour enema of completely fuck-free quality indie rock.

If it's just some random loser with no agenda...that's too sad to even think about.