How’s that for potential dish? (By the way, here’s Monica on that alleged cigar: “I didn’t inhale!”)īut fuck Fox News–let’s swing on down to Foxy, which comments on sex, and sometimes even presidential sex, in ways that never get canceled. I’ve defended Drudge, but now I think he’s the dregs and Roger Ailes should blow Monica Lewinsky out his butt. (“But make sure to watch the show, OK?” the producer urged.) Weeks later, they rang again to fish for some more gossip, then called back to say, Sorry, the next episode would be all about–everybody now–the presidential sex scandals, and I guess this time that precluded my appearance.
#CAN GAY MEN JERK OFF IN THE MIRROR MOVIE#
In fact, the only regular thing about being a regular on Drudge is that you apparently never get booked! Once, they called in a panic when they thought Lucianne Goldberg might not be a strong enough solo guest– imagine–so they pumped me for potential dish and asked if I’d seen the X-Files movie before deciding that Goldberg could blow off enough steam by herself and Drudge certainly didn’t need me to discuss the movie.
That sounded pretty definite, but it proved to be just another way to shove a cigar up my ass. Then the same network’s Matt Drudge Report asked me to be part of an unpaid “dress rehearsal” of regulars for that exercise in non-vestal verbiage. They were thrilled I could accommodate them, but when I couldn’t also tape a pilot for the show, they suddenly unbooked me, saying the topic they’d planned might change–it didn’t yep, the presidential sex scandals–but they’d surely call again (they never did). Producers there booked me on the first episode of Beyond the News,on which a motley panel blows hot air about current-events topics, usually involving intransigent interns. In less glamorous gossip-world happenings (only on Avenue of the Americas, kids), the Fox News Channel is a nonstop jerk-off session about the presidential sex scandals that doesn’t serve you dinner, and in fact sometimes doesn’t serve you at all. I left ready to explode, but still too dazzled by the wall patterns to tinkle. During the meal, the ears of every celebrity in the world–plus Linda Tripp–must have been on fire, though all that bouncy banter posed no threat whatsoever to the shoving down of food. On my drop-in, I luxuriated in a Caligula-esque tiled tub (without water), only jumping out when Cindy happened to produce a 10-course dinner in yet another room. It cost Cindy and hubby Joey Adams unspeakable amounts to buy and revamp the joint–the window walls alone were more expensive than my education–but with a spot on Good Morning America and an upcoming gig hawking costume jewelry on the Home Shopping Network, “Mother” is even more secure than I am. The sprawling habitat–which is very Citizen Kane meets Chinese modern via early reign of terra cotta–is now resplendent with Asian sculptures, brocaded chairs, Picassos, New York Post covers, and about 300 bathrooms, which are so ornate you’re too busy taking them in to even relieve yourself. I’m thrilled that the gossip diva’s redone everything else in the place in an eye-popping style that’s less Duke than empress.
#CAN GAY MEN JERK OFF IN THE MIRROR CRACK#
The only touch of Doris Duke left in that late rich lady’s apartment is a big old crack in the marble floor–and her fans will be thrilled to learn that the new owner, Cindy Adams,has kept it there as a metamorphic homage to Doris’s spunk.