In Grand Rapids there is a morning radio team that calls themselves Free Beer and Hot Wings. I’ve never actually listened to the show because the promo clips for it are painfully unfunny and I assume that if these are the best and funniest clips they can find to entice me to listen, the rest must be even worse.
But it goes even deeper than that. I just hate morning radio, or most of it. I’m not alone. Pretty much anyone who has ever done stand up comedy hates morning radio. When you’re on the road, the clubs often have deals to send the comics into the studio with the local “morning zoo,” where the DJs are crazy and whacky and think poop jokes are the apex of wittiness. And it’s pretty much the worst part of the job. It’s worse than not seeing home for weeks at a time, staying in shitty hotel rooms and making almost no money for it. It’s the one thing that makes you feel like finding a clock tower.
The DJs are almost always insufferable idiots whose repertoire of jokes is the kind of thing that makes 8th grade boys laugh in the gym locker room. The kind of people who think that the only thing that makes their hilarious jokes any funnier are funny sound effects. Like when they talk about boners — and they do, a lot — they think it is simply comedic genius to play that “booiiiinnnnngggg” sound like a spring. Oh stop, you’re killing me. Or at least I wish you would.
And alongside the two male DJs you invariably have a woman, often called the “news girl” or something like that. But you know what the men who run the stations actually call them? Giggleboxes. That’s the standard term. Because that’s their job, to laugh hysterically at everything the two overgrown teenager DJs say and to react with exaggerated feigned offense when they make sexist comments about her.
Here, this is pretty much what I have to say about most morning radio: