NY Mirror

12-19 I hear that a commentator on another Metro show got grief for joking that Fashion Week is like "the gay Olympics." Back at New York Central, the "gay platform" argument was invoked again. But isn't our sex reporter on a straight platform? Her beat is to cover every possible way to fuck guys. (Still, the show's the queerest thing on the air, if you just go by outfits and mannerisms.) There were six layoffs, then we went on to our Christmas party.

1-7-02 A lot of old segments are being run again, to save money. It's winter, but we're airing stuff about people in tank tops. Buitoni must have stopped advertising—their posters are no longer part of the set. Still, we're on literally 26 times a day, so Metro must think we've got something.

1-8 Maybe not. They're letting us do five gossip segments a week again, but apparently it's only because they just want us to play out our fate through April 1. I'm stumbling a lot, feeling tentative and uneasy. I saw this happen to the original two hosts. I ask an agent to call Metro and determine my future. She says, "I already know that the show's being totally revamped." I get a different agent.

Diary of a mad talk-show host: The shit hits.
illustration: Nathan Fox
Diary of a mad talk-show host: The shit hits.

1-17 A joke about me being a "queen" was in the script. Whose platform is this, anyway? I changed the line. Last chance to save my ass. I should be shot. But maybe they want me to say I'm a queen, just not defend them.

1-21 The shit hits. New York Central will have all new talent as of April and it will be an hour again! The producers are supportive and say I wasn't too anything—"We got fired too."

1-31 Now Metro isn't replacing us; they won't be doing the show at all. I guess they couldn't top it as easily as they thought. They'll apparently just run old fashion shows through eternity. Meanwhile, we're airing segments so ancient that, after one of them, we had to say, "Sadly, the woman you just saw later died in a car accident." We're taping a week's worth of shit a day so they can stockpile and save dough. (Not surprisingly, we won't get our full salaries until six weeks from now.) These best-of shows are generic and dated, a far cry from the earlier, fun stuff. My life's joy is now a daily dread. On the final episode, Lori has to apologize for making fun of Kelsey Grammer 's wife's irritable bowel syndrome. What a way to go.

2-12 Wrap party. Speech, Michael. "I'm sorry I was too gay." Cheers and laughter. Ha ha ha. Start thinking.

EXTRA ITEM: Party Monster—the all-star movie about club kid leader/killer Michael Alig—has added some more names to its roster. In addition to Macaulay Culkin, Seth Green, Dylan McDermott, and Marilyn Manson, the motley cast now includes Mia Kirschner as club owner Peter Gatien's wife and John Stamos as a talk show host. Wackier and wackier.


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