Official Book Club Selection Part 19

Steve, I wish al the best for you! Have you guys set a date? XXOO, KG From: Kathy Date: April 25, 2008 1:32:53 AM To: Woz Subject: Finally!!!

I sent you an email Sunday night, but my iphone ran out and I couldn't find it in my sent or drafts or anything. Anyway, there's a cute picture if us in the STAR, so folks online are commenting on your wedding ring slash not wedding ring. SO, did you two crazy kids actual y tie the knot or not?

On the D-List show, we're kind of dating. It's harmless stuff, but I don't want to be seen as some one who would "date" a married guy. XXOO, KG From: Woz Date: April 25, 2008 8:58:00 AM To: Kathy Subject: Re: Finally!!!

not married but it's possible secretly I'l have to see the STAR.

From: Kathy Date: May 9, 2008 2:19:53 PM To: Woz Subject: Goodness gracious!

I'm sure youre laughing at the STAR article. Some very funny mistakes, but did want to let you know I did not speak to them and I would never say I'm "glad its over" Hope youre wel .

XXOO,.

KG.

King and Queen of Woz's charity event, The FurBal .

From: Woz Date: May 14, 2008 1:30:22 PM To: Kathy Subject: Hi, love!

Kathy, I have to thank you profusely for the great fun you brought into my life, in many ways.

I can also never thank you enough for helping out at the Fur Bal . The Humane Society raised something like $315,000 after expenses, far above what they had expected. You have done a good things for me by helping them out.

missing you, xoxo.........sw From: Woz Date: July 1, 2008 6:04:47 PM To: Kathy Subject: Fwd: Re: geeksares.e.xy.net Hey, so guess who's going to be on Dancing With The Stars this season?

xoxo steve

BFFs 4-evuh.

I know Barack Obama had an historic 2009. But real y, can it top the fact that the world realized I have what has been referred to as a "bangin'

bikini bod"?

I have Paris Hilton to thank for it.

Not many people know this, but Paris Hilton is a genius. She speaks seven languages, including Urdu and I believe Romulan. She's written countless scholarly works under pseudonyms, because she's famous enough as it is without being pestered for her intel ectual prowess. I heard she just declined a position on the board of directors of the Rand Corporation because she's too busy advising the Pentagon on delicate international matters. And apparently she's at the forefront of a gene therapy breakthrough.

Okay, that was fun to write. Real y, she's an idiot. But she's my my idiot, dammit. And here's why. idiot, dammit. And here's why.

For season five of My Life on the D-List My Life on the D-List we did a whole episode chronicling my harebrained scheme to join Young Hol ywood at the tender age of forty-eight. We decided that the quintessential example of living out loud Young Hol ywoodstyle was, of course, Paris Hilton. She real y is the generation's best amba.s.sador. (See, she's a diplomat!) When I brought this idea up to her, Paris and I hammered out a trade whereby I agreed to do a day of filming on season two of her MTV show we did a whole episode chronicling my harebrained scheme to join Young Hol ywood at the tender age of forty-eight. We decided that the quintessential example of living out loud Young Hol ywoodstyle was, of course, Paris Hilton. She real y is the generation's best amba.s.sador. (See, she's a diplomat!) When I brought this idea up to her, Paris and I hammered out a trade whereby I agreed to do a day of filming on season two of her MTV show Paris Hilton's New BFF Paris Hilton's New BFF , and she agreed to do a few hours of taping for , and she agreed to do a few hours of taping for My Life on the D-List My Life on the D-List. Now, in her defense-and I have to admit, it's kil ing me to write anything about a celebrity that starts with "in her defense"-Paris was one of the easiest people I've ever worked with on my show. She got the dril . The more Paris-y she could be, the sooner we'd be done, so she flicked the switch when the cameras rol ed, laughed at my jokes, and general y took it on the chin. I walked away from my day with Paris liking her, and tel ing her I would think a little longer before being as hard on her in my act. Then I reminded her that it was stil my job to put her into the act, and that if she could go to jail one more time but maybe stay a little longer, I would be personal y grateful. A moving violation would be nice, but a.s.sault and battery would be ideal.

As we taped our first scene for the Young Hol ywood episode on trendy Robertson Boulevard, I got younger with every store. We started out at Kitson, and by the time we ended up at Lisa Kline, I was sixteen and a half years old. Of course, it wasn't just us, but approximately fifty paparazzi photographers. This may have been a little too much for even Team Griffin to handle. I had to rol with an entourage, so of course I brought my twenty-four-year-old a.s.sistant and Young Hol ywood aficionado Tiffany Rinehart, and beleaguered tour manager and trichotil omania (look it up, freaks) sufferer Tom Vize. They had their marching orders. Tom was in charge of my two eighty-pound, il -behaved dogs Chance and Pom Pom, and Tiffany was busily Twittering our every move. But I tel ya, it's hard to focus when everywhere around me were video cameras and flashbulbs going off. I get so angry when I think that someone cal ed the paparazzi photographers and tipped them off. If I ever run into that someone, let's say a red-haired lady who lives at my house, I'm going to give her what for.

Spending a day like that with Paris, I have to say, was more of an eye-opener than my 2003 upper-lid face work. Those photographers were pushy, noisy, physical y aggressive, fighting among each other, shouting, knocking each other over, and general y unapologetic about causing an insanely chaotic scene. But the way she and her security team handled them, and the onlookers and screaming fans and tourists, was impressive. She'd turn to me every so often and say "Hungry tigers!" in her bizarre, yet oddly fascinating baby-voice affect. Real y, that voice is younger than a baby's. It's fetal. A spot on her mother's pituitary gland.

Plus, she had her tiny dog with her, who was so calm for such a frenzied situation, the dog must have been on some of my mother's "nervous pil s." I don't remember the name of the dog, but I just started thinking of her as Little Paula Abdul.

Paris was sporting a bob, which may or may not have been Paris Magic Hair, and a ringed headband, as if she was a hippie from a commune bankrol ed by a trust fund. I asked her if she knew what a hippie was, and she just giggled. She also had on high-heel black Ferragamo boots, and a very trendy peasant top and tights-al very fashionable. As for me, my original idea was to get an outfit of Paris's that she'd recently been photographed in, and wear that. I had a vision of magazines comparing us on a "Who wore it better?" page, and I thought it'd be funny if it was something like, "Paris Hilton 96 percent, Kathy Griffith 4 percent."

But when I cal ed her office to talk to her stylist, to see if I could wear this '20s-era tube dress that she wore for her birthday bash in Vegas, it was, "Oh, you'l never fit into it. She's much smal er than you." Ouch.

Wel , they wouldn't send me anything she'd actual y worn, but they sent me her own line of clothes, which is ridiculous and must only do wel in Asia because it's al so loud and over-the-top and pink pink pink.

True, half of it I couldn't squeeze into, but I did pick out the most obnoxiously pink, sil y outfit, a dress with a ful -on '80s tube top. But because my b.o.o.bs are real and tend to bounce off my knees, I wore it with an old-lady Maidenform bra-pink, mind you-completely showing.

Look, I was going for a joke here, but I'm not that hard up for a laugh that I'm not going to wear a f.u.c.king bra.

So we make our way into Kitson past the snapping hordes, and then to Lisa Kline. We hadn't real y planned it, but Paris started faux-

shopping for me, and began sifting through Pucci bikinis. She picked out a blue-and-green paisley one for me, and said, "You'd look huge in this."

This is an actual Paris Hilton dress that she loaned me.

"Go f.u.c.k yourself."

"No, no, I don't mean you're huge like that. You know how I used to say, 'That's hot'?"

I cautiously said, "Yes?"

"Wel , 'huge' is the new 'hot.' So if I say you're huge, that's a good thing!"

"Oh, okay. And just so you know, 'go f.u.c.k yourself' is stil 'go f.u.c.k yourself,' but I'm sorry I said that."

Wel , she bought the bikini for me, which I thought was nice. Next we were going to go to this trendy hotel cal ed The Avalon and film by the pool, because this is where Young Hol ywood grazes. So the show's producer said to me, "When we shoot this scene with you and Paris hanging by the pool, you've got to wear the bikini that she bought you."

s.h.i.t. Now al my weight issues were suddenly bubbling to the surface again, even though I have to say, 2009 has probably been my thinnest year since high school. But I started thinking crazy s.h.i.t again, like how I was five pounds lighter only a week ago! Plus, it was me next to 61, super-skinny, super-perfect model-like Paris Hilton, who is a complete stick. How could it not bring up my issues? And in a bikini on top of that?

"I don't think I've even worn a bikini in about fifteen years," I told the producer.

It's true. When I go swimming I'm usual y in a turtleneck wetsuit. And if that's not available, I'l wear a mens' suit. As in, a three-piece with tie and vest, and maybe an ascot. And a bowler hat. I'l wear that to take a shower if I'm having a particularly bad body-image day.

And can we discuss my skin for a second? It's not as if I have pale, alabaster-like-a-baby's-a.s.s skin like Anne Hathaway. When I say that my skin is white and pale, that's an understatement. It's translucent. You can see right through to my veins and organs. I'm real y no different from an anatomy figure in biology cla.s.s.

Now, Paris, in al of her skinny Paris-ness, wouldn't even agree to wear a bikini without a sarong for the Avalon pool shoot, so I decided me in the tiniest bikini without any cover-up would be good for a few laughs. I just had to suck it up. Maybe I'd make it onto a worst-dressed bikini list. As you may know, I'm a staple of worst-dressed lists, ever since my days on Suddenly Susan Suddenly Susan when no designer wanted to touch me or loan me anything for awards show appearances or public events. when no designer wanted to touch me or loan me anything for awards show appearances or public events.

The first time I was ever tagged by one of the magazines for worst dressed-it might have been me in a Betsey Johnson outfit, because those were big in the '90s and I liked her designs-my initial reaction was this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Then, about ten minutes later, I thought, Wait a minute, this is kind of funny Wait a minute, this is kind of funny . Such began my many appearances on these lists, usual y next to pictures of Margaret Cho in some peac.o.c.k-feather dress, Paula Abdul in something from her signature QVC line, and Bjork dressed like a swan or goose or some other waterfowl. For the longest time I cut out and laminated these photos and stuck them proudly on my refrigerator. . Such began my many appearances on these lists, usual y next to pictures of Margaret Cho in some peac.o.c.k-feather dress, Paula Abdul in something from her signature QVC line, and Bjork dressed like a swan or goose or some other waterfowl. For the longest time I cut out and laminated these photos and stuck them proudly on my refrigerator.

Paris Hilton getting served, Griffin-bikini-style.

My only real triumph in the fashion area was the year I was asked to be a red carpet correspondent for the VH1/Vogue Fashion Awards, interviewing celebrities for the moments going into and out of commercials. Because Vogue Vogue was involved, they wanted to pick my outfit for me. They dressed me in this Ralph Lauren Purple Label girl's tuxedo with Versace heels. Wel , was involved, they wanted to pick my outfit for me. They dressed me in this Ralph Lauren Purple Label girl's tuxedo with Versace heels. Wel , Vogue Vogue editor Anna Wintour fired me the night of the show because I was so offensive on the red carpet editor Anna Wintour fired me the night of the show because I was so offensive on the red carpet -basical y none of my segments were going to be used-but months later Glamour Glamour ran a smal item on women who wear suits, and they cited me as someone who did it right! I considered it pretty much a Best Dressed award. So, no thanks, but thanks, ran a smal item on women who wear suits, and they cited me as someone who did it right! I considered it pretty much a Best Dressed award. So, no thanks, but thanks, Vogue! Vogue! (I stole the outfit, too. (I stole the outfit, too.

Stil wear the shoes!) The hilarious part is, you know what joke provoked Anna to ax me when she heard it in the production booth? I said I was going to try to be a part of the fashion community by going into the bathroom later and doing blow off the Hilton sisters' a.s.ses. Luckily, since then I've learned how to talk about celebrities with restraint and grace.

Now here I was with Paris, about to expose to the world my pale 53 form in a sil y-smal bikini, and those d.a.m.n pesky paparazzi (grrr, who called called them anyway?) had fol owed us over here to the hotel from Robertson Boulevard. Then I thought about that old helpful "act as if" rule from the Overeaters Anonymous Big Book, the technique that guided me through more than a few downward spirals after binge-eating. Act as if it's al going to be fine. When it came time to shoot, I just had to say to myself, "Kathy, act as if you have the f.u.c.king hottest body there, and every guy in the crew wants to bang you. You are the hottest"-wait, them anyway?) had fol owed us over here to the hotel from Robertson Boulevard. Then I thought about that old helpful "act as if" rule from the Overeaters Anonymous Big Book, the technique that guided me through more than a few downward spirals after binge-eating. Act as if it's al going to be fine. When it came time to shoot, I just had to say to myself, "Kathy, act as if you have the f.u.c.king hottest body there, and every guy in the crew wants to bang you. You are the hottest"-wait, "hugest," sorry, Paris-"piece of a.s.s ever!"

That night, it al began happening online. There I was in photos next to Paris Hilton, and the consensus from US Weekly's US Weekly's website to PerezHilton's seemed to be that I have a "bangin' bikini bod." When they drop the "y," on "body," it's like you have something other than a website to PerezHilton's seemed to be that I have a "bangin' bikini bod." When they drop the "y," on "body," it's like you have something other than a "body." That "y" was holding me back, it seems.

I say this with humility, but I am now in the infancy of my new career as a semiprofessional bikini model.

The press reaction, for one thing, has been the kind you can't buy. The National Enquirer National Enquirer featured me on a page of Hottest Beach Bodies. I did a bikini shoot for featured me on a page of Hottest Beach Bodies. I did a bikini shoot for TV Guide TV Guide, as wel as one for OK OK magazine, which wrote, "Kathy Griffin's got a hot body and she isn't afraid to show it!" magazine, which wrote, "Kathy Griffin's got a hot body and she isn't afraid to show it!"

They brought bikinis to my house to my house, because at that point I thought the only bikini that existed in the world was the one Paris Hilton bought me.

But when you have a "bangin' bikini bod"-or "bbb," as I'l coin now -they come to you you with bikinis, and ones that fit, not ones that let your real b.o.o.bs accidental y slip out so you can trip on them. Did I mention with bikinis, and ones that fit, not ones that let your real b.o.o.bs accidental y slip out so you can trip on them. Did I mention People People magazine had a "Bikini Body Showdown" and pol ed readers on whether I, Lisa Rinna, or Tara Reid had the hottest bikini bod, and I won? And I don't take steroids magazine had a "Bikini Body Showdown" and pol ed readers on whether I, Lisa Rinna, or Tara Reid had the hottest bikini bod, and I won? And I don't take steroids or or get drunk and fal down in public. Not that they do, of course. get drunk and fal down in public. Not that they do, of course.

Look, I'm not out to embarra.s.s Gisele Bundchen or Bar Refaeli, or whatever bikini model Leo is or was banging or wil bang in the future, and my goal isn't to make any of these women lose any sleep over the contracts they're about to miss out on because of me. But I'm clearly not far away from a Bain de Soleil campaign, some beach towel contracts, and the inevitable pleading from Sports Ill.u.s.trated Sports Ill.u.s.trated for a cover shoot and, if the attorneys can work out the details, a tasteful centerfold. Wil anyone real y be surprised when Tyra Banks simply cuts to the chase next season and stands in front of my bikini-ed self-wel , not that close, because she'l be too self-conscious to be that close to my "bbb"-and says, "Kathy Griffin, congratulations, you for a cover shoot and, if the attorneys can work out the details, a tasteful centerfold. Wil anyone real y be surprised when Tyra Banks simply cuts to the chase next season and stands in front of my bikini-ed self-wel , not that close, because she'l be too self-conscious to be that close to my "bbb"-and says, "Kathy Griffin, congratulations, you are are America's Next Top Model." I'm ready to change lives here, people. Oprah, you're going to be trading in Dr. Oz's scrubs for me in a bikini every Tuesday. America's Next Top Model." I'm ready to change lives here, people. Oprah, you're going to be trading in Dr. Oz's scrubs for me in a bikini every Tuesday.

The reality, of course, is that this whole bikini thing has been hilarious and great and bizarre, and it couldn't have come at a better time when my tireless efforts to get the word out about My Life on the D-List My Life on the D-List often meant sitting in a room doing twenty-five interviews in a row with places like often meant sitting in a room doing twenty-five interviews in a row with places like Wake Up, Tulsa! People Wake Up, Tulsa! People magazine would never give me the time of day-wouldn't cover me going to Walter Reed Army Medical Center magazine would never give me the time of day-wouldn't cover me going to Walter Reed Army Medical Center -but now that I have a bangin' bikini bod, I guess it's al good. If it gets one more viewer to watch The D-List The D-List, cal me the worst or the hottest, I don't care. Although a few extra straight guys turning on my show to jerk off to me would be so great. A pretty lady has dreams.

Here comes the section my editor is making me write. She keeps asking me to explain my "typical routine regarding diet and exercise,"

and "how you got the bbb." Oh Christ, Pamela. Here it is.

KATHY GRIFFIN'S BANGIN' BIKINI BOD REGIMEN: Sometimes I work out with a trainer. I get real mad at him occasional y because it's real real hard. And ... [sob] ... I hurt afterward. But I do it, because I'm on TV. If I was stil a loan officer in a bank I would be a good fifty pounds heavier and a lot happier. Sometimes I forget to work out for a month. Guess what happens then? I GAIN WEIGHT. Sometimes I'm so stressed out and exhausted I just have a bunch of diarrhea. I'm pretty sure "bunch" is the correct term for multiple diarrheas. Anyway, it's good for at least a jean size. Sometimes I'm out of town and go for very long walks or hikes. Yawn. One thing, though: I find the thinner and hotter I get the b.i.t.c.hier I get. If you see me in an airport and say, "I didn't know you were so tiny!" I might slap you in the face or kick your husband in the bal s. It's not personal. I'm just real y hungry. In fact, I'm hungry most of the time. hard. And ... [sob] ... I hurt afterward. But I do it, because I'm on TV. If I was stil a loan officer in a bank I would be a good fifty pounds heavier and a lot happier. Sometimes I forget to work out for a month. Guess what happens then? I GAIN WEIGHT. Sometimes I'm so stressed out and exhausted I just have a bunch of diarrhea. I'm pretty sure "bunch" is the correct term for multiple diarrheas. Anyway, it's good for at least a jean size. Sometimes I'm out of town and go for very long walks or hikes. Yawn. One thing, though: I find the thinner and hotter I get the b.i.t.c.hier I get. If you see me in an airport and say, "I didn't know you were so tiny!" I might slap you in the face or kick your husband in the bal s. It's not personal. I'm just real y hungry. In fact, I'm hungry most of the time.

Now for my nutritional regimen: Have you heard of sugar-free Red Bul ? Sometimes that's lunch. That's because I have such a crazy upside-down schedule-early morning radio promotion interviews at 6:12 a.m., two shows at night, and in between whatever is demanding my time-that I can't real y stick to normal meal times. Some days I have three healthy meals, and make sure a big salad is one of them. Good for me! Wheeeee! Other days I think I wil die if I don't have some pizza. I mean I real y think I'm going to die. Guess what? At those times I eat pizza. And I haven't died yet! What's real y helped me is having "sensible" specialty meals delivered every day. I stil adore al my favorite junk foods (shout-out to marble two-layer cake with chocolate chip frosting in between and b.u.t.tercream on the outside), and I'm never going to love steamed broccoli, but I also know that having a Cobb salad in my hotel room before I do a stand-up show-instead of pigging

out on bad things because I'm lonely or bored-means I won't feel like c.r.a.p onstage later.

Al this bikini hoopla doesn't mean I stil don't struggle with my weight.

Body issues don't just go away. Just the other day a flight attendant had the bikini picture in a tabloid and wanted me to sign it, and there was stil that little part of me that wanted to go, "Oh! Wel , just so you know ...

heh heh ... this picture was from five pounds ago ... heh heh ... I didn't get to work out the week prior to this photo being taken ... heh heh ...

I've worked out so much more since then!" I had to stop myself and say, "Kathy, sign the f.u.c.king picture."

My first bikini picture, with my cousins Maureen and Nancy. Why do I look like I just got punched in the face?

G.o.d, I could talk about my hot body al day. Couldn't you, Oprah?

Don't you find it heartwarming that in this rol er-coaster D-list life of mine where talking s.h.i.t about celebrities and making fun of crazy Hol ywood has given me an incredible career, it's a fitting irony that I'm ending this book by offering my grat.i.tude to a celebrity? One who was responsible for getting my picture into so many magazines and TV shows. And by way of a frickin' two-piece, no less.

So to whoever's reading this to Paris Hilton, tel her I say thank you.

EPILOGUE.

So what do you think of my life so far? Oh shut up, you're you're too skinny. too skinny.

Wel , I've read my book, too, and here's what I think about my spiritual journey: Cake is awesome. I want some right now.

Actual y, it's a little strange to look back so thoroughly on my life and realize I haven't learned one lesson. Instead, I just go by my own creed, which is essential y: Make mistakes (tel ing Jesus to suck it), repeat them (FanningGate), don't learn from them (got two Emmys), and blame others (the Vatican).

More than anything, the guiding force of my life has been my work ethic. Like a lot of things, as you've probably gathered, it goes back to my childhood. When I was growing up, my family loved watching 60 60 Minutes every Sunday, and I remember once there was a story about an old woman who had lost everything. She was so poor, she had to eat dog food. After watching the story Mom turned to me and said, "I hope you're proud of yourself, for Chrisssake." every Sunday, and I remember once there was a story about an old woman who had lost everything. She was so poor, she had to eat dog food. After watching the story Mom turned to me and said, "I hope you're proud of yourself, for Chrisssake."

"Whuh?" I said.

"I know you spent three gahdd.a.m.n dol ars at Woolworth's today on a Barbie outfit. I saw you."

"Whuh?"

"You keep spending money like it's goin' out of style and you're gonna be eatin' dog food outside in our Dodge Dart, cause we're gonna lose this whole gahdd.a.m.n house. Everybody around here is spending money like it grows on trees!"

Mind you, we didn't have a dog. But the point is, my parents instil ed in me their very own prewar, Depression-era work ethic, and along with that goes the daily fear that I could truly lose everything tomorrow. And by "lose everything," I mean succ.u.mb to the hot-or-not system that governs every aspect of the entertainment business, that turns A-listers into D-

listers faster than you can say, "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here."

I'm not eating dog food now, and that is why I want to take this opportunity to sincerely express my grat.i.tude to al of you for coming to my stand-up shows, downloading my CDs, watching my little cable show, ordering T-shirts that say "Suck it," and, of course, buying this book. When I look out into the audience, when I see you at book signings, when I read favorable comments online, get your emails, or notice that more of you are fol owing on Twitter, none of it is lost on me. I see you. I thank you.

Here's why I'm the luckiest motherf.u.c.ker on earth. I get to do what I love, and I mean I love al of it. Stand-up. The D-List The D-List. Talk shows. Red carpet. The occasional yeast infection. (That's from performing in polyester blend pants in an outdoor venue in Milwaukee during Summer Gay Pride.) Al the people I've gotten to meet. I mean, who else gets to do s.h.i.t like this: Yeah, that's me in bed with CNN's John King. And his his Emmy. It gets better. His wife, White House correspondent Dana Bash, took the picture, then told me I'm her Cher. Sure, it's fun to be in bed with John King, but it's way better to be somebody's Cher. Emmy. It gets better. His wife, White House correspondent Dana Bash, took the picture, then told me I'm her Cher. Sure, it's fun to be in bed with John King, but it's way better to be somebody's Cher.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

First and foremost, I would like to thank my friend and col aborator Robert Abele, who did the heavy lifting of shaping this book, while I just mostly b.i.t.c.hed and moaned; his lovely wife Margy, who guided us along the way, constantly muttering something about "More detail!

More detail!;" my editor Pamela Cannon, who gets how awesome I am; Team Griffin, not to be confused with the Griffin clan, so shout-out to Jessica (miss you!), Tiffany (best laugh ever), and Tom (love); the agent who made this happen, Trena Keating; my WME gang, Nancy Josephson and Ari Emanuel; my beloved attorneys Bil Sobel and Alan Isaacman; my stand-up agent Steve Levine; the entire gay community; Nancy Silverton and the delicious pizza she would serve Robert and me at Mozza after writing sessions; and a pretty, pretty lady publicist named Whitney Tancred.

I also want to thank Jeff Zucker, who has done very little for me but thinks he discovered me. Jeff Gaspin, same thing. The Bravo gang: Lauren Zalaznick, Frances Berwick, Cori Abraham, and of course, Andy Cohen. Now can I get a f.u.c.king bil board? I love you freaks.

Sorry, gotta go. Les Moonves is on the other line.