Exotic Magazine Online Uncovering adult entertainment online since 1993
xmag.com : July 2001:Iron Lungs 'n' Golden Airwaves

Ever since the tragically crippling jet-ski accident which Confined to an iron lung, the author listens to his radioTopless gal smiles with Liz WildeJim Goad reclinesGoad's sidekick Josh licks his own nipplesKim Morgan weilds a knifeBilly Turner attacks the paparazzi left me confined within an iron lung, I've spent much of my government-subsidized life listening to the radio.

Radio is an obvious entertainment choice for the handicapped. Given my condition, it's not exactly like I'll be a NASCAR driver anytime soon. It's hard to work acomputer mouse with one's teeth. I can't read books or magazines unless someone's standing there, flipping the pages for me. Jerking off is out of the question. And so I spend most of my waking hours listening to Mr. Marconi's wondrous invention.

But, alas and alack, most of what passes for radio entertainment in the craggy Northwest is roughly as compelling as wallpaper paste. What blazingly entertaining personages does Portland offer the hungry, iron-lung-bound radio listener? Lars Larson? Bill Gallagher? They're about as exciting as a neatly folded brown paper bag. To call them "radio personalities" would imply that they have personality, and that would be unfair. My frickin' IRON LUNG has more charisma than these jokers, and that's without the rad customized chrome job I had done on it a few months ago.

And the syndicated programs which cost-conscious programmers pipe in from other cities are no better: sweaty-jowled clogged-artery conservative blowhards; colonically irrigated liberal veggie-burgers; delusional genitally manipulated space-alien abductees; lantern-jawed testosterone-O.D. jocknuts; emotionally arrested wedgie-givin' "Morning Zoo" poop-flingers; and a vast, dark, cattle stockyard filled with stuffed-shirt spiceless human breadsticks who possess bland voices and no ideas.

Yet, in a giant ocean of runny diarrhea, a few solid turds inevitably float to the top. And these top-flight turds, ladies and gentleman, are "The Liz Wilde Show," "LET'S FIGHT!" with Jim Goad, and "Big Fat Radio" with Kim Morgan and Billy Turner. These three shows bring a tender smidgen of hope to this paralyzed-below-the-neck body of mine.

We finally...son of a fucking bleeding CUNT, we FINALLY...have some good local radio in Portland. Thanks to these three shows, there is hope in Rip City. There is promise in Puddletown. There is reason for celebration the City of Roses.

Hail Radio! Yay for radio! Woo-hoo, radio! YEAH...Rrrrrrrradio! Everybody throw their hands in the air and "raise the roof" for radio! Rizz-adio is in the hizz-ouse! Awwww, yeah, party people! That's what I'M talkin' 'bout! NOW what? You gotta problem wit dat? Didn't think so, bee-yatch!!!


THE LIZ WILDE SHOW * Noon-3am Weekdays * 1080 AM KOTK www.lizwilde.com

This show is the staple of my weekday listening. Think of Liz Wilde as Howard Stern with a smaller nose and bigger tits. Syndicated in twenty or so cities, Liz is a large-boobied, full-figured gal who rests her massive jugs on the console and takes a humorous approach to sex, sexuality, sexual matters, and other sex-related, uh, stuff. Liz is a menstruating Mensa member surrounded by such wacky regulars as Scary Intern, Jay the Lizbian, Sam the Jewish Mailman (who was reportedly once married to entertainer Martha Raye), and Mickey the Irish Prick, who has been permanently banned due to allegedly insensitive comments. Whatta zany show! Men vomit on interns. Strippers insert objects into their vaginas. Entertainers drop by to comment on the affairs of the day. A frequent guest is Exotic's own Shecky "Bates" Greene, who drags one "sex worker" after the next into the studio and, in his forceful, studly, Otto Preminger style, commands them to do all manner of degrading acts.

Fun stuff. Fun, funny stuff. Go Wilde, everybody!

LET'S FIGHT! with Jim Goad
11am-Noon Saturdays * 1010 AM KGUY

This ultra-spicy Saturday-morning program is perhaps the only radio program in the nation where both the host and his sidekick are convicted felons on parole.

Jim describes himself as "not just another bad boy--I'm the worst." He boasts a seductive, growling voice which, if it were a fluid, would be a rough mix of hot semen and golden caramel. His loyal sidekick Josh is a lovably chubby Registered Sex Offender who recently became a first-time father and has a perverse obsession for male breasts and obese women. A recent program featured an extended conversation about whether, in lieu of one of those cute (but expensive) hanging mobile thingies, Josh intended to dangle his scrotum in his newborn son's crib for the child to bat around.

But I don't know...these guys seem like assholes to me.


BIG FAT RADIO with Kim Morgan and Billy Turner 7-9pm Saturdays
1080 AM KOTK

Do ya like smart, sassy takes on pop culture coming from a pair of stylish, fun-lovin' goofballs? Then you'll dig this show, hombre.

Kim Morgan is a film critic for The Oregonian who has an oddly humanistic affinity for ne'er-do-wells such as Ted Kaczynski, Kip Kinkel, and Ike Turner. Regarding a highly publicized recent rape case, her response was, "Who cares? Shit happens." You go, girl!

Well-groomed rake Billy Turner, who has a shadowy, checkered past, came up with perhaps the most brilliant sitcom idea of all time: Battered Buddies, in which two struggling male actors in the Big Apple pose as female domestic-violence victims in order to get free room and board at a women's shelter.

My only problem with this Saturday-evening show is that neither Kim nor Billy are fat, which is sort of hypocritical, if you ask me.


There's really nothing worth listening to on Sundays, so mostly I sleep and quietly plot my revenge.




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