: July 2001:Iron Lungs 'n' Golden Airwaves
since the tragically crippling jet-ski accident which
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
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,
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
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
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
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