So the pressure was on. First things first, I booked a hair and makeup artist to come over to my little studio in Manhattan at five A.M. since I had to arrive at K-Rock by eight thirty. I enlisted my gay opening act, Wendel, to come with me for moral support, to lighten the mood as he always did, and to program his tape player to record the show on cassette so I had it forever.
Then I set about figuring out what to talk about on the show. Gary had told me Howard wanted to hear the Chevy roast jokes and stories. In fact, ever since my first appearance, it’s become a tradition for me to give Howard a preview of my jokes for the roasts, plus give him the exclusive on the ones that don’t make it into the broadcasts. But what else should I talk about? I wanted to stay on as long as possible, and Chevy would take up about fifteen minutes tops. I mean, this wasn’t 1982—the guy wasn’t that interesting anymore.
Luckily, I bumped into comedian Jim Florentine, a friendly, affable, and funny guy who had made his way into the Stern inner circle of guests. Jim is probably the nicest guy in the business because he is genuinely happy for people who get ahead and he shares any knowledge that he has openly and freely. At the Comedy Cellar the night before Stern, Jim said he’d heard I was doing the show and gave me some valuable advice: By the time you’re done at the studio, make sure you leave Howard with one hook about yourself, Jim said, what you’re known for, so you’re memorable to him and you stand out in his mind. At the time, I’d just started talking about having a black boyfriend, so Jim advised me to lead with that. The hook had an added benefit, Jim said, because Howard loves to talk about sex. Jim guaranteed that this would really tickle him.
The next morning, with my hair and makeup done, I headed up to the studio in a cab with gay Wendel, armed with all my notes on Chevy, my roast script, my jokes about banging black guys, and a few insults about other cultures in case Howard asked me about being an insult comic as well. I was wearing my blond hair in the shoulder-length suburban housewife flip that I had sported at the roast, a light-blue cashmere sweater set from Bloomingdale’s, and a long navy tube skirt from Eileen Fisher. My weight was at my all-time comedy low, and I felt great, albeit nervous.
As we were buzzed into the studio, we walked by a shortish Italian guy who I later found out was Ronnie the limo guy. He didn’t smile but nodded hello. At the time, I wondered if he was familiar with my comedy and hated me. Gary came out and ushered Wendel and me into the greenroom, an area complete with an animal-print couch and hot-pink pillows. Wendel joked about how many bare penises must have flopped around on the couch, but I was too busy looking over my notes to listen or fake a laugh. Besides, he’d made the exact same joke in the taxi and whenever we shopped at Macy’s.
Before too long, Gary said it was time, and truly almost everything else is a blur. I was seated on a large couch across from Robin in her news booth, so I could direct most of my comments and jokes to her. Howard was to my right, so I tried as hard as I could to face both of them at the same time. At my feet were my notes, which I whipped out and looked over during the commercials, since Howard was busy talking to his assistants and Gary whenever the show broke and Robin was in the booth. I figured it was better to look busy than to sit there idly staring at the walls of the studio.
Here are the things I do remember about the appearance:
Howard was a perfect gentleman. He said I looked nice, and when Joey Boots, a Stern Wack Packer whom I’d had a brief fling with, called in and said I wasn’t attractive, Howard said, “She’s not bad. What’re you talking about?” Score one for my self-esteem.
During one of the few commercial breaks during which Howard wasn’t conducting business, he asked me if I went to a shrink. I said I did, and he said, “Good,” and told me that he too was going to a shrink, only he went four times a week. I remember thinking, “I wish I could afford that.”
After asking me about being an insult comic, Howard asked me if I said “nigga” onstage. No, I told him, I used the word “nigger,” and pronounced the word with a hard “R” at the end. He was fascinated and I explained my philosophy on treating everyone equally at my show. I told him that if I’m gonna say “kike” to Jews, I should, by rights, say the N-word to black people. Howard seemed impressed.
After about a half hour, my segment came to a close. I sat there bracing for the worst, and Howard said those cherished seven little words: “Can you stick around for the news?”
I said, “Absolutely.” And I did.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mixed Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire
Some people were born to be great parents. Others were born to find cures for diseases like cancer and the AIDS. I, however, know I was born with a higher purpose in mind: I, Lisa Lampanelli, was born to roast.
Roasting is my calling, and if I look back on my life, even at an early age, I can remember knowing I could make fun of people and have them take no offense. To me, poking fun or roasting means you can say whatever you want about someone because you clearly don’t mean a word of it. And as a kid, I could make my mom smile even when she was having a bad day by taking little jabs at her and the rest of the family.
It’s not like my history of insulting people is unblemished. My stomach turns when I remember referring to someone in my dorm at Syracuse University as a “kike”—probably not a great idea, considering it had a large enough Jewish population to be referred to as “Syracuse Jew-niversity.” And there was that unfortunate incident with an Asian guy—I’m not sure which kind—when I called him a “Chinaman” and I ended up on the business end of one of his martial arts throws. But, remember, these things took place in college, where all things are liberal and nobody cares if you mean it or not.
Twenty years later, I get paid to make fun of people, and it’s nowhere more appreciated than at the roasts. Whether on Howard Stern’s radio show, on Comedy Central in front of millions, or at the closed-door, thousand-seat, no-reporters-allowed Friars Club, a roast is my time to shine. All you need is a microphone, a podium upon which to place your script, a pen so you can cross out similar jokes by guys who go before you, and a very open-minded, non-self-serious individual as the guest of honor. Other than that, there are no rules, and political correctness is out in the parking lot where the spics are breaking into the roasters’ cars.
Below, in no particular order, are my recaps of some of the roasts I’ve done, beginning with the one that started the ball rolling for me and the reason I have a career to this day, the Friars Club roast of Chevy Chase.
NY Friars Club Roast of CHEVY CHASE
Date broadcast: December 1, 2002
Roastmaster: Paul Shaffer of The Late Show with David Letterman
Fun Facts About the Roast:
In an interview in Entertainment Weekly, Chevy Chase said this roast was the absolute worst experience of his life.
Comedian Kevin Meaney, who has since enjoyed a lengthy run in the musical Hairspray on Broadway, bombed so hard at the roast, he was cut out of the telecast.
As a result of the roast, I was given my first shot on the Howard Stern show and was able to snag my amazing manager and personal appearance agent, with whom I still work today. This could be an industry record for longevity in such a relationship.
Roastmaster Paul Shaffer pulled me aside at the after-party and told me I was the only roaster Chevy liked because I did not reference his drug-addled past.
People on the dais included tennis superstar John McEnroe with his wife, singer Patty Smyth of Scandal; talk-show host and plastic-surgery victim Sally Jessy Raphael; Chris Meloni and Dean Winters of Oz fame; and still-cute-as-a-button actress Martha Plimpton.
Paul Shaffer’s Introduction
“Lisa Lampanelli has been called the cross between Don Rickles and Archie Bunker, but in fairness to Lisa, she has a much younger-looking penis. Not thicker, just younger. Here she is—Friar Lisa Lampanelli.”
Joke I Chickened Out of Doing
“Sally Jessy Raphael is a very dedicated professional. Ev
ery day, she has her stylist drive all the way in from Connecticut to do her makeup. No offense, Sally, but by the looks of you lately, I think the commute is affecting his work.”
Favorite Joke of My Set
“Chevy, your beautiful wife, Beverly D’Angelo, in those Vacation movies. What sparks flew between those two, huh? I haven’t seen chemistry like that since Rosie O’Donnell poked Tom Cruise with her strap-on. Speaking of Rosie O’Donnell, it’s nice to see you here…Oh, that’s Freddie Roman.”
NY Friars Club Roast of DONALD TRUMP
Date: October 15, 2004
Private, closed-door roast/not for broadcast
Roastmaster: Regis Philbin
Fun Facts About the Roast:
The Donald Trump roast marked the one hundredth anniversary of the legendary Friars Club.
Because of my performance at the Chevy Chase roast two years prior, my parents were seated at the front of the room with Richard Belzer’s and Geraldo Rivera’s wives, instead of in the back of the room with the kitchen help.
When he got up for his closing remarks, Donald Trump was extremely entertaining and funny, and I left the roast a huge fan. During the Don King roast the following year, Trump served as roastmaster and was smug, unfunny, and even more unlikable than you’d think. I left unimpressed.
Afraid of offending “the Donald” with my material that was edgy even by roast standards, the Friars Club asked me to do the roast in character as Esther Rabinowitz, who lost her virginity to Donald Trump. After having sex with Trump, “Esther” was so horrified by her experience with the “short-dicked egomaniac” that she renounced sex for good and joined a nunnery. I appeared in a full Roman Catholic nun’s habit, complete with huge wooden swinging cross. The Esther Rabinowitz character was first seen earlier that year when I had appeared at a tribute in honor of Friars Club dean Freddie Roman.
Seated on the dais next to me was Artie Lange, who consumed a huge amount of alcohol during the lunch. I was completely sure that he would bomb because of his great ingestion of inebriants, but from backstage where I was changing into my nun’s habit, I heard him crushing with the best set of the day thus far.
I had heard a rumor before the roast that comedian Susie Essman had requested to sit next to CBS president Les Moonves during the roast. Unfortunately, Les canceled at the last minute, so I couldn’t do the following joke: “Look at Susie Essman, sucking up to Les Moonves. She’s pitching her new sitcom. It’s a companion show to Desperate Housewives. It’s called Desperate Whore Comic.”
Other notable folks on the dais included actor Danny Aiello, Dominic “Uncle Junior” Chianese, Regis producer Michael Gelman, mob princess Victoria Gotti, Isaac Hayes, artist LeRoy Neiman, the lovely Jerry Orbach, Vincent “Big Pussy” Pastore, Michael Spinks, and Abe “Yep, I’m Still Alive” Vigoda.
Regis Philbin’s Introduction
“Donald, we have a very special guest for you today—something of a surprise. We have a young lady who was one of your, I think, it was your very first date you ever had in Queens. And it is so nice your first girlfriend has joined us now. Esther Rabinowitz, ladies and gentlemen, Esther Rabinowitz.”
Joke I Didn’t Do at the Roast
“Donald Trump is worth millions and millions of dollars and owns countless buildings all over the world. For the love of God, Donald! Just spend the $8,000 for the penis enlargement and end it.” I did not cut this joke out because I was afraid it would offend Mr. Trump. I cut it out because it didn’t really seem to fit the character. I used it a few years later on one of the Stern roasts about Howard since he is constantly joking about his small penis. Howard loved the joke.
Favorite Joke of My Set
It’s a tie between:
“I have to wrap this up because Regis has to go early. He has to talk Kathie Lee Gifford off a ledge. I haven’t seen a career move that doomed since Al Sharpton ran for president. No offense, Reverend Al, but at least Kathie Lee only made that mistake once.”
And:
“Truth be told, the reason I left Donald Trump was because he would not marry me unless I signed a prenuptial agreement that said he would keep all the money and I would get all the furniture. Has anyone seen how tacky this guy lives? In his foyer, he has a statue of David naked—which would be classy if it wasn’t David Hasselhoff. Let’s just say, ‘gaudy, fake, and vulgar’ isn’t just his taste in women. (Audience moans.) Bring it on, bitches! I am a fuckin’ nun! Laugh or I will kick you in the cunt!”
NY Friars Club Roast of JERRY LEWIS
Date: June 9, 2006, noon
Private, closed-door roast/not for broadcast
Roastmaster: Richard Belzer
Fun Facts About the Roast:
I was shocked when I heard that Jerry Lewis had specifically requested me for his roast, the third one honoring him at the Friars Club. In some highly publicized remarks, Lewis had made it clear he didn’t think women comics were funny, so when I was asked to do the roast (he had seen my appearance with Simon Cowell on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno), I jumped at the chance.
The roast began at noon, as all Friars Club roasts do, now that they are no longer partnered with Comedy Central. I told the Friars Club that I could not appear at the roast unless I was able to leave no later than one P.M. so I could make my previously scheduled gig that evening in Kansas City. After doing what might have been my best roast set ever, I hugged Jerry, shook Robert De Niro’s hand, and beat it out to the limo to grab my flight to KC. I burst into tears in the car because I could not enjoy the roast aftermath, which is always my favorite part.
On the way to my gig in KC, the plane was delayed two hours, so I was forced to get changed for the show in the airport and do my hair and makeup in the tiny airplane bathroom. As I was finishing up, the smoke detector in the bathroom started to shriek—it seems my hairspray had set it off. I assured the stewardess that I didn’t smoke, and I proceeded to show up almost two hours late for my gig and luckily was not arrested for tampering with the smoke detection equipment on the plane.
Jerry Lewis suffered a heart attack less than two days after the roast. I joke that I like to think I am partially responsible for it.
Sandra Bernhard, self-serious dyke, gave me the finger whenever I made a joke about her and sat with her arms folded during my entire set, proving once again that she’s a cunt.
People on the dais included Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro, Soprano Vincent Curatola, Chris Elliott, rapper/actor Ice-T, scourge to his own people Don King, Broadway cornholer Nathan Lane, professional questioner James Lipton, Michael McKean, Vinnie Pastore, Joe Piscopo, and Steven Van Zandt.
Richard Belzer’s Introduction
“Lisa Lampanelli is known as the Queen of Mean. You would be mean too if the last time you got laid was on a pool table in Newark. Lisa got into trouble last year with the IRS because, on her tax return, she forgot to list her occupation as cunt. She has a deal with Fox for a TV series next season. She is one of the funniest women I have ever seen and you will see right now; please welcome Lisa Lampanelli.”
Joke I Chickened Out of Doing
“Don’t worry, Jerry. It’s almost over. I don’t mean the roast.”
Favorite Joke of My Set
“Man! Look at all these guinea greaseball actors—or as Martin Scorsese calls them, ‘My bitches.’ I haven’t seen this many Italians in one place since Free Cannoli Day at OTB.”
Roast of GENE SIMMONS for GENE SIMMONS: FAMILY JEWELS on A&E
Date broadcast: June 15, 2008
Roastmaster: Jeffrey Ross
Fun Facts About the Roast:
The comedy rock band Metal Skool got more laughs than most of the roasters combined.
The most disorganized and sweatiest roast I’ve ever attended, the Gene Simmons roast made me yearn for the days of even the craziest of Comedy Central roasts. When it started more than an hour late, I braced myself, but it ended up being hands-down the most fun roast I’ve ever attended, due mostly to the jovial attitu
de of Gene and his amazing family.
Comics who performed but didn’t make it to air were Ralphie May and Paul Mooney. I was not surprised Ralphie was left out (roasts aren’t his thing), but Paul Mooney did a good job. I think it was a black thing.
For over an hour in the downstairs bar before the roast, Jackass’s Steve-O was slamming drinks. So it was no surprise that he was wasted by the time the taping began. Sitting in the top row on the stage, he whipped out his penis and peed on the rug and into a glass on the stage. Danny Bonaduce, who, by comparison, seemed tame, complained, and Steve-O was promptly removed.
Criss Angel, another A&E “personality,” sent a taped message that was so devoid of laughs and content, it didn’t make it to air. I was bummed because, since his tape didn’t make it to air, my following joke had to be cut out of the broadcast: “Criss Angel! What an annoying douche! Criss Angel is so irritating, when I watch his show, I always root for the wood chipper.”
The way I ended up on the Gene Simmons roast is that I own a house at Canyon Ranch health spa in Tucson, where Shannon Tweed and her sister vacation quite a lot. One day at dinner when I was eating by myself, I heard, “Is that my husband’s favorite comic?” To which I replied, “Yes, it is.” The two women and their daughters sat and ate dinner with me, and I told Shannon I thought Comedy Central should roast Gene at some point because he seems to have a great sense of humor about himself. A few days later, a producer on Family Jewels called and asked me to appear on the roast.
Also overheard at the Canyon Ranch dinner table (and I paraphrase): “Gene isn’t here. He was supposed to come but he had the opportunity to make money, so he did it. You know, he’s a Jew.”
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