I’ve always loved listening to – and being heard on — radio. The opportunities for the latter are not so great where I am right now, but it doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about the medium.
Thanks to Google, I stumbled across a piece I wrote a few years ago, titled Things I’d like to hear on radio. Here it is with a couple of updates and modifications for this new frequency:
“This being the ABC, I am not supposed to venture a personal opinion on air, but after what you just said Cyril, I’m prepared to risk my career and make an exception.”
“Cheryl, stop gushing like you’re the only woman in the world who as ever had a baby. If you tell one more cutesy story about your illbegotten offspring, I will projectile vomit over you and the entire studio.”
“If you really think we get this perky in the morning just by drinking products from our sponsor, you are very much mistaken.”
“Actually, Bruce, you may think you speak for the silent majority but you are a hateful, bigoted man who has never achieved anything of significance in your miserable life and rather than be angry with yourself, you have externalised the blame on people who are making an honest effort to make a go of their own lives, and are prepared to risk what little they have to create a brighter future for their families.”
“You know what Shazza, I am constantly amazed by the extent to which so many of our listeners are prepared to demean themselves to win a worthless prize we contra-ed from one of the advertisers.”
“Rather than hook young Darlene up to the lie-detector, I’m going to attach it to myself and tell you all what I really think.”
“If you don’t stop leering at me Bazza, I’ll send those pictures from the last awards night to your wife.”
“Despite explicit instructions to the contrary from station management, I have decided to henceforth refer to myself by my given name, Michael, rather than the childish epithet of ‘Beano’.”
“Who are we kidding, we know most of you are only listening because you like the music, and that you change station whenever an ad comes on or we start talking.”
“And the whole gang from the station will be at the big listeners’ party on Friday night, even though we’d rather apply a dentist’s drill to our eyeballs than meet any of you smelly idiots.”
“Do you seriously think I use any of the products I endorse on air? I have to put on surgical gloves just to touch the huge wads of cash they pay for me doing this.”
“No, by all means, do keep talking Doris. It’s 3 o’clock in the morning, nobody else is listening and, on the money they’re paying me for this graveyard shift, I literally do not have a home to go to.”
“I hate you all.”
