Announcer: Good morning everyone, and welcome to Misty in the Morning! Today Misty talks to City Councilman Irving Blatt, actor Tom Arnold, and Billy Jackson from the San Diego Zoo. But first, it’s time for our monthly visit from fitness guru Zachary Zakmann. Here she is, Misty Morrison!

Misty: Hi, everyone! I love you all! I’m so glad you could come visit with me today! We’ve got such a great show for you today, and let’s jump right in with my favorite guy, Zachary Zakmann!

Audience: Yay! (applause)

Zakmann bounds onto the stage, waving and smiling at the crowd. He is fit, tanned, and sporting a mane of shoulder-length white hair. He bows to the audience and then crosses to Misty, air-kissing her before standing next to her behind a waist-high counter.

Zakmann: Hi everyone! Hello Misty, you’re looking beautiful!

Misty: Oh, thank you! You’re so sweet! It’s so good to see you! What have you been doing with yourself since we saw you last?

Zakmann: Misty, I’ve lost over 23 pounds!

Misty: (squeals) Oh my god, that’s amazing! Liposuction? Botox? Radical experimental chemo-treatments?

Zakmann: (laughing) No, no, no. You know I never use invasive medical techniques for something as natural as losing weight!

Misty: Okay, you’ve got me, I did know that. So how did you do it? And (turning to invite the audience in her question) how can we do it too?

Zakmann: Well, I suppose I can let you in on the secret. I’ve been masturbating like a fiend, and it works! (strikes manly pose with fists on hips)

Misty: Wow! That’s really… what?

Zakmann: (beaming) That’s right! Masturbation gave me the trim figure you see before you!

Misty: (uncertainly) Uh, Zak…

Zakmann: It’s long been known that pleasuring yourself has many excellent healthy benefits, as well as being good for your sexual well-being. But recent tests have proven that regular masturbation can be a superior non-contact aerobic exercise. Good for the heart, good for muscle tone, and you get a much better night’s sleep, am I right Misty?

Misty: (staring wide-eyed at the audience, visible sweat on her forehead) I… um, I suppose so, I really don’t…

Zakmann: But before I go further, some of your audience seems to have questions for me. May I? (he takes the microphone from her and walks towards the stands to where several women are waiting) Yes?

Woman #1: Are you serious?

Zakmann: Completely. A simple act, that many of us do every day anyway.

Woman #1: But how can you lose weight doing it? I mean, if that was true I’d weigh about 30 pounds! (the audience laughs, woman blushes)

Zakmann: The same way you do every exercise! At regular intervals, and with gradually increasing repetitions. (he strides back to where Misty is in furious argument with the producer) Misty!

Misty: (she gives a small scream and turns around to face him) Yes?

Zakmann: Your audience seems skeptical! Tell me, how do you masturbate?

Misty: (panicking, frequently darting glances off-camera at her producer) I, uh…

Zakmann: You know, one of the reasons I love coming on your show is your brutal honesty, your passion for clear speaking and up-front discussion of vital issues.

Misty: (visibly wringing her hands underneath the counter) I’m, uh, happily married, and I really…

Zakmann: Ha ha, of course you are! But everyone needs a little extra release now and then, maybe when hubby finished his ride before you were finished fastening your seat belt, am I right? (he turns to the audience) Am I right? (the audience cheers) So tell us your technique.

Misty: (looks towards the producer, who is communicating through surprisingly expressive mime how many phone calls are coming in and why she should keep going, dammit) Uh, wow, thank you, I uh. Um. Well, I just, you know, touch… myself, and… that’s it really. Isn’t it?

Zakmann: (booming) Misty, that’s pathetic! No wonder you don’t lose any weight! How strong would you be if you went to lift weights and just kinda tugged on one! You need a program, and that’s where my technique comes in. I’ve developed a way to improve your jacking and jilling methods for maximum calorie burn as well as maximum orgasmic pleasure!

Misty: How… (clears throat and begins to rally back to hostess mode) how do you do that?

Zakmann: (produces strange white device from behind counter and slams it down) With my new invention, the Whack-O-Matic! (Misty eyes it warily) The Whack-O-Matic forces you to modulate your masturbatory movements by driving you to near-climax, and then shutting down for a pre-set interval.

Misty: And how does that help?

Zakmann: By causing muscle spasms all along your abdomen and pelvic girdle. You see, the Whack-O-Matic dedects, through this easy-to-attach monitor patch, where you are on the arousal scale at any given time. As it brings you closer and closer to your sensual cloudburst, it knows when to click off, leaving you frustrated and desperate to come. Your body then automatically flexes the appropriate muscles in an attempt to finish the process. After you’ve given up in sobbing grief, it starts right up again and brings you to the edge all over again.

Misty: But how exactly does it do that?

Zakmann: I’m so glad you asked! The Whack-O-Matic is, simply put, the single finest sex toy ever designed. Equally adept at satisfying men and women alike, it features seven speeds, a vast array of attachment heads, easy-to-clean reservoirs, and it’s dishwasher-safe! And it’s energy efficient! How long do you think the average vibrator battery lasts?

Misty: 2 1/2 weeks, unless it’s sweeps week. (claps hand over mouth) Um, I mean…

Zakmann: That’s right! And the plug-in models are just too awkward! But the Whack-O-Matic is powered by a battery-powered flywheel which uses electrical energy to tighten, and then replenishes that energy as it slowly unwinds. It’s quiet, it’s powerful, and it’s environment-friendly!

Misty: That’s a lot of torque. What happens if the flywheel breaks?

Zalmann: That’s only happened a very few times, God rest their souls. But just look at these attachments! (he pulls out several white components of varying shapes and sizes) Why limit yourself to poles and prods? Let Whack-O-Matic take you back to your earliest memories! We have Bedpost, Horseback, Firm Pillow, Washcloth, and that’s just for the ladies! Tell me Misty, did you grow up in a two-story house?

Misty: Three, actually.

Zakmann: Great! (he swiftly snaps an attachment on the device and whips it behind the counter into Misty’s lap – we cannot see it in action, but Misty reacts immediately, gripping the counter with both hands and moaning loudly)

Misty: Jesus God! Oh, God…

Zakmann: You’ll appreciate this one then, it’s our popular Bannister head! (Misty is obviously pumping her hips and seems to be heading towards a massive orgasm) And, any time now… (the humming stops abruptly, and Misty nearly falls over the counter)

Misty: (wild-eyed and husky-voiced) What the (bleep)! Turn it back on! Now!

Zakmann: Feel the burn, Misty! Can you feel your buttocks clenching, your stomach contracting, as your body reaches hungrily for the climax that it was expecting? (Misty is frantically clawing at the device, trying to get it to come back on) It remains inactive for a full two minutes, the time it takes for your arousal level to subside. It’s also great for your Kegel exercises. Can you feel it?

Misty: (running one hand over her chest and driving the other between her legs) Turn it on turn it on turn it on oh god turn it on now!

Zakmann: Uh ah, this is why beginners may want spotters to help them out. (he grabs her wrists and gently pulls her arms away from her body – Misty begins weeping) It doesn’t work if you don’t let it work, Misty. Are you calmer now? Starting to relax a bit?

Misty: (pulling herself together with exaggerated dignity) Yes, I’m fine now, thank you. Mr. Zakmann, why do you feel that this devi-i-yi-yi-yi! (the device starts up again and Misty throws her head back in exultant joy) Yes! YES!

Zakmann: (turns towards the audience as Misty writhes on the counter next to him) The best thing about this exercise machine is that it’s truly fun to use. It won’t end up on the scrap heap along with your old exercycle, your Stairmaster, your Abdominizer, your Thighmaster, your Tai-Boe tapes, and your Subway coupons. The Whack-O-Matic uses your already-existing desires and uses them to build you up. Guys, don’t think this is another woman-only device – the Whack-O-Matic has powerful suctioning apertures with lots of attachments for you! Just dial the opening to the preffered orifice simulation, and choose from Tight to Professional, from dry to dripping, from Schoolteacher thin to Angelina Jolie full! (next to him Misty is laying across the counter humping the Whack-O-Matic, which cuts out again – she bursts into tears and begins hitting it with both fists)
(he looks towards the audience, where several women are waving their hands) Yes?

Woman #2: Can you control the timing?

Zakmann: Yes! The Whack-O-Matic has several settings to help move you along in your quest for fitness. There’s the beginner, which simply throttles down occasionally. There’s several intermediate modes, where it cuts off for a few seconds at just the right time, and there’s the expert setting which is what Misty is experiencing now. It’s best not to start with that one though, I advise working up to it. (Misty is clutching the device in both hands and attempting to rub it against the floor – it kicks in again and she screams and drops to the ground, arms flung wide)

Woman #3: What if you change your mind once you’ve started? Can it be turned off?

Zakmann: No, I’m afraid not. There are several safety features, mostly to keep you from being electrocuted or dehydrated, but once you’ve turned it on it has to run through its cycle. (Misty is snaking across the stage floor, involuntarily, as she shimmies underneath the device’s pulsating vibrations) You see, it’s important to stick to your exercise regime or you won’t lose weight at all

Producer: (walking out hesitantly before the cameras) Uh, excuse me? I’m afraid your time is up, Mr. Zakmann.

Zakmann: (waves to the audience) Thank you, everyone! Look for the Whack-O-Matic at your favorite store! Comes with a 90-day warranty, handsome carrying case, and a free monogrammed towel. Tell your friends! Thanks Misty!

(Misty continues to gyrate, gripping the base of her chair to keep from moving around and arching up until only her hands and feet are touching the floor – she’s now whipping her head back and forth and yelling “(bleep)! Me! (bleep)! Me!” over and over. Tom Arnold walks onstage, looking nervous and confused.)

Arnold: Misty? Hi? Am I on?

Ladies, how many times has this happened to you:

You’re sitting on the couch, pretending to be reading a magazine and in reality trying to ride the waves of pain of a truly killer headache. You’ve just about resigned yourself to an evening of utter misery when your guy bounds into the living room with a happy grin and a pup tent in his pajamas. You know what’s about to happen. It always happens. Somewhere, up in the fluffy clouds of white man’s heaven, God Almighty is looking down on you and getting you back for that damn apple thing all those years ago because you know that when you try to explain your incredibly excruciating pain, your guy, the man who loves you and puts your welfare above all else, is going to advise the same medical procedure he always does.

“Well,” he says, as your headache finds a nerve and starts jumping on it, “maybe you just need my famous beef injection!”

Stop! Don’t kill him! He’s not just being an inconsiderate ass. He’s speaking from the sure knowledge culled from thousands of years of passed-on male medical knowledge. An oral tradition, if you will.

Medical studies, real ones that I could link to if I wanted to bother, have shown ripping off an orgasm does wonders for a headache. A good screamer can help relieve stress and increase blood flow, which aids in the easing of cranial pressure. In fact, if you wanted to head it off completely, next time you even suspect that you might be getting a headache, knock your man to the ground and fuck him silly. Even if he’s at the office. Especially if he’s at the office.

Guys, this is our fault. If we treat it like we’re joking, of course they’re not going to take us seriously. It’s about time we let them in on all the centuries of painstaking research and let them know about the true health benefits of choking down on your willy. Ladies, these things are actually true, as far as you know:

Semen really does have magical properties.
You’ve heard us tell you, but you didn’t listen. It really *is* a first class skin emollient. Spunk is great for your complexion, conditions your hands, adds body and lustre to your hair, and makes a healthy mouthwash. I can personally vouch for one interesting by-product of this miracle liquid; when I was dating my girlfriend, her chest measurement was 34C. Some twenty years later she’s a proud 36D, and I modestly accept the credit. Other men report success in using their sticky elixir to treat stuttering, any number of mental disorders, hysteria, and hemmorhoids, although the last one is still unproven.
Also it has something to do with babies, I think.

A man is the ultimate exercise machine.
I know, I know. You thought that when he was twisting and tossing you all over the bed, flipping you over at a whim and begging you to imitate those boneless people in sick foreign sex books, he was doing it just to please himself. Oh, if you only knew the selfless sacrifices he makes for you! Better than any Nautilus, a man can exercise every part of you in a whole body workout, low and high impact. He can stretch your thigh muscles, adjust your lower back, improve your jaw muscles, and get that cardio-vascular system pumping. He can help you build up those upper-body muscles with repetitive arm and neck motions. You bitch about him leaving in the middle of the night, but that’s because you don’t know he’s rushing home to write down the number of reps.
He’s really just thinking about you. He’s too embarrassed to tell you, but I will.

Finally, he’s improving your self-esteem.
You don’t really think we lose all higher brain functions just because we’re packing wood, do you? Please. We know from long, painful experience that just telling you how beautiful you are won’t convince you. But if you see us losing all control and acting like a crazed wombat because we caught a glimpse down your blouse, you might believe. Please, on behalf of guys everywhere, can we get past this? Can you accept our sincere compliments so we can stop making fools of ourselves on first dates, at the prom, in front of your parents and roommates, and in bad sitcoms?

Next time, listen to him. He’s looking out for you. Really.

There’s something special about sex out-of-doors. Whether it’s an act of mystical sensuality under the stars in the middle of a vast sylvan wilderness or a quick boink in the back of a crowded subway car, outdoor lovin’ can add a special excitement to the old in-out in-out. But, I beg you, please observe some basic, common sense rules when you decide to rough it.

• Unless you’re completely comfortable being nude in the great outdoors before the eyes of hikers, tourists, passers-by and spy satellites, wear clothes that can be pushed out of the way rather than removed.
• Never, never, never wipe yourself up afterwards with any three-pronged leaves. Trust me on this.
• Train yourself to scream out the names of local sports teams during climax, so that when you’re whomping away under the bleachers or beneath a big lap-blanket people will think you’re just really enthusuastic.
• Keep your shoes on, it’s easier to get that initial sprint going if the authorities show up.
• Never apply “Deep Woods Off” to anything you intend to put in your mouth.
• I don’t care how sexy it looks in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, beach sand is a pain in the ass to get out of those tender crevices. Bring a blanket.
• If you fall asleep outside in post-coital languor, be prepared to have to explain some odd sunburn patterns.
• Yes, the other people on the bus do know what you’re doing, they’re just not saying anything.
• There is no naturally-occuring condom-substitute available in nature (unless maybe in the rain forest somewhere), so hunting around in the middle of the night when you run out is a waste of time and just likely to result in one of those multi-county missing person searches. Bring extras, like the boy scouts do.
• I favor cool weather. Nipples pop up promptly, the more you exert the better you feel, mosquitos are blessedly few, and you might even get steam rising from the frictioning bits (see? You DO smoke after sex!).
• The “Mile High Club” has become passe. How about Extreme Sex? Skydiving, on the slopes of Everest, or in some other distant, exotic locale. The sacrificial altar at Macchu Picchu comes to mind, or even St Peter’s square? For a real kick, do it in the crowd during mass so your orgiastic gyrations are inadvertantly blessed by the pope. That abandoned launch pad at the Cape would be something to brag about. How about Kennedy’s tomb? You can help keep the eternal flame burning, and give the guards something to look at. Besides, JFK would have wanted it that way.
• Always bring extra batteries.
• Try to keep moans and gasps of lust down to a manageable level, or someone will call the usher.
• Park rangers are just like pool boys, babysitters and pizza delivery guys — always ready to jump in and they’re hung like a bull moose, every manjack of them. Really. Try it.
• For those on limited budgets, there are plenty of places close to home. The roof, the pool at the Y, the middle of the street (late at night, when traffic is light), the back of your pickup in the driveway, the local park, the backyard if your yard is fenced (or if you’re quick). How about the school cafeteria during a PTA meeting? Gotta be some benefit to volunteering besides getting first pick of the cookies.
• You can’t believe what it’s like to tear off a piece on the lip of an echo canyon, just make sure you have a quick getaway ready.
• Before you indulge in some x-rated spider-swinging, make sure the swingset is rated for adult weights.
• Check for fire ants.
• Don’t you hate those long, lonely waits in the doctor’s office? There’s always plenty of lubricant and a comfortable table right at hand, and even latex gloves and tongue depressors to play with. Please keep in mind that a defibrillator is NOT a toy, except for a few hard core and short-lived S/M types.
• Churches are ideal to make out in: during the week they are often deserted, they rarely lock up too tight, and you can bump and grind in the little sunday school rooms for an extra little blaspemic thrill. Just be sure to thoroughly clean any of the toys or sacrements you use before and after. Be polite.
• Airplane bathrooms are only good for emaciated premature ejaculators. Stick with adjoining seats and a blanket.
• Before you slip over the side into the water, make sure you tie a line to your ankle. Nothing brings you out of the mood faster than realizing your boat’s out of sight, you’re bare-ass and the sun’s going down.
• The romance of making love in the pounding surf is often offset by the water rushing up your crotch, the seaweed and small marine animals that join your passioned embrace, and the fact that everything about your lover now tastes like seawater.
• On the other hand, really gooey mud can be a blast.
• Make a game of it. Get one of those nation maps you see on the backs of Winnebagos, right next to the “Good Sam” stickers, and start buying stickers for every state in which you’ve publicly consummated. Or you could follow a strict pattern: Civil War buffs could make it a point to “re-enact” the major battles in a somewhat stickier, less lethal manner, for example. Or you could hit the states in the order they were acepted into the Union, or you could follow the Appalachian Trail. Can you hit every single guard post on the Great Wall of China?
• Grab your lover(s), hop in the backseat and have someone drive you through Lion Country Safari. There’s nothing like ragged loving while lions roar and giraffes walk majestically by.
• Try to avoid tying your lover down anywhere where youth groups camp regularly.
• If you go at it during a rock concert, make sure you’re near the stage. No one will notice.
• Above all, please remember this – if you’re caught, Hoot Island will publicly disavow any knowledge of your existence. Have fun!

Quick! Think of a penis!

I’d be willing to bet that for the majority of you, the first thing that came to your mind’s eye was an erect willie (although some of you may have pictured coleslaw, a gentle rain, or the color indigo – face it, some of you are whacked). Could have been any color, could have been any size, but most likely it was pointing skyward. And that’s certainly natural; you’ve been trained by society to think of the penis as a tool, a powerful symbol of manhood, even as a weapon.

I’d like you to think of it, just for a moment, as a play toy.

Penises can be a lot of fun, no matter what degree of rigidity they may be currently displaying, and there’s no reason to think that your favorite wonker is only worthwhile if it’s upright. There’s all sorts of things to do with it while it’s in its dormant state, and for once you can relax and enjoy the moment before the urgency starts to build. Get him while he’s asleep, or coming out of the shower, or just completely unsuspecting. Also, it is a truth of nature that at some point in your life you will encounter a cock that flatly refuses to cooperate with your intentions, whether it be your own or the prick of a loved one. It’ll happen, and there are as many reasons for impotence as there are men.

He could be limp because he’s tired, or drunk, or worried, or stressed, or not feeling well, or nervous, or stoned, or cold, or hot, or anxious, or asleep, or uptight, or too excited, or because his Paxil hasn’t kicked in, or because it has, or he’s really not interested, or even because he just used it twice in the last hour. The causes and cures for impotence could fill volumes (and they have), and we’re not here for a psychological treatise, but I offer you this: Imagine the weight of the psychic load that will lift if he produces a wet noodle and you respond with eagerness and joy instead of disappointment and disgust.

Whatever the reason, there’s a soft pile of male organ there. What now?

Study it. You can read about it in those funky paperback books with names like “The Sensual Prong” but you really need to see a real one up close to understand what they’re talking about, and it’s much easier to examine this doodad when it’s sleepy. Caress it, squeeze it, and let it loll across your hand. The mushroom-looking-bit at the top is the head, or glans. At this point the head is soft and spongy and not at all like the tight throbbing sword point it can become. Peek in the hole and see if you can see anything coming. There’s a line leading from the underneath of the head down to the base – that’s the urethra, and it’s a sensitive place indeed. Should you ever feel the urge to run your tongue down a part of your man’s body, that’s a dandy place to begin. And to end. The skin around your buddy there is loose and moves easily, so move it. Slip it around and feel this odd little worm move with it. The testicles are safe underneath and they’ll seem bigger now than they usually do during the festivities, since the sack of skin they’re in (the scrotum) is loose and dangly and relaxed.

Grasp the tip of the willie carefully and stretch it out to get an idea of how long it will become once the blood starts pumpin’. Penii vary greatly when it comes to comparing limp vs erect sizes — some men shoot from peanut to logger, some just change direction without changing size, the majority are somewhere in between.

Play with it! Don’t worry about how to get it angry, don’t start stroking it frantically hoping for wood — fast friction on a soft dry tallywhacker is a cruel mistress indeed. You can treat it as a challenge, or you can toy with it as it is. There are some advantages: you can probably get the whole thing in your mouth without hurting yourself, and there’s room to swirl it around in there. Let your tongue wrestle with it and go for two falls out of three. You might even be able to get the whole three-piece set in there, and wouldn’t that make a nice visual for your man? There are few feelings more interesting than growing erect inside a lover’s mouth.

Use it to spread lotion on yourself. Nipples dry out so easily, and the head makes such a nifty applicator. The little mushroom ridge catches just the right way on an erect nipple, have you noticed? And there’s nothing like rolling baby oil around your throat and face with a warm friend.

Hump it. Push your mound up against that little nub and grind away. While it can’t compete with the iron-man version for penetration, you’ll find that it’s just sturdy enough to keep your clit happily occupied without rubbing you raw. Dip it in Kama Sutra massage oil and run it up and down between your lower lips just to feel ‘em open up. Hold the end firmly, whip it across your clit and see if you can get yourself off before it gets out of your control. Rub yourself all over with it — you’ll discover a soft, warm, velvety feel that’s remarkably sensuous.

Use your hands. Caress it, stroke it, pour lotion on it and rub it between your palms like you’re making a Play-Do snake. Run it through your fingers and hold it like a fine cigar. Sniff the fine musky bouquet (don’t snip off the end!) and puff away. Hold it like a pen and write your lover a sonnet, bat it softly between your paws, catch it in your toes, have him kneel over a Yes/No pendulum mat and ask it questions.

Fill some shot glasses with various liquids and use your new utensil to feed yourself. Just a quick dip into the chocolate pudding and a swipe through the whipped cream, or perhaps a dash of wine, and then pop it into your mouth and start the insanity. Be careful, caustic fluids getting into the little hole can stop the evening cold, but you can always use a spoon to drip some brandy over your fleshy spork to keep the chill away. Can you use it to get peanut butter out of a jar and into your mouth? How about M&M’s?

Dress it up and have puppet shows. Slap it around and tell it to shape up. Get down there and have a face-to-face discussion. Balance the head on the tip of your fingernail and test your man’s nerve. Press it to your closed eyelid to relieve headaches. Run it through your hair. Get some body paints and use the thick brush (would that be dingle-painting?). Drape it over Barbie’s shoulder, give your stuffed bear something to be proud of, see how many ponytail ties you can get around it, anything!

Oddly enough, many of the things you can do to enjoy a soft pee-pee may suddenly result in a hard pee-pee, and I suppose that has its place too. But never treat a pouting penis as an insult — learn to see it as an opportunity.

See, awhile back I took a shot at writing a porn script since I didn’t feel my writing resume would look complete without it. To date it has not been filmed and I figured I had to put it somewhere, so…