by Howard Stern
I were supposed to have had a big meeting on Friday but since the top brass couldn't make it in, they had rescheduled it for Monday before we went on the air. We were to meet at 12:30, but I didn't arrive at NBC till 12:45. Fuck them and their meetings. John Hayes met me in the hall and escorted me to an elevator. "Randy wants to see you alone." He smiled and put his arm around me like the priest who visits death row. Little did I know that Hayes had been given orders to make sure I got on that elevator. Hayes couldn't wait to get me on that elevator because it was his job to fire Robin while I was upstairs being fired.
I hobbled into Randy's office.
"Sit down," Randy said.
I sat.
"I'm going to have to put an end to the show," Randy said soberly.
I figured he meant the syndicated show. So they were right, Soupy was going to get his show syndicated.
"Okay," I said, getting up, "I gotta go to work."
"No, I mean the afternoon show."
"Okay," I said again, and started for the door. I was in shock.
"Do you want to sit down?" Randy said.
I said, "No. If I'm fired, I'm leaving. I have no reason to be here."
I hobbled downstairs to my office and called my agent, Don Buchwald. Within minutes, Buchwald strolled into the office with a cold bottle of champagne in hand, singing "Happy Days Are Here Again." Robin, who had just been fired by the Incubus himself, looked warily at Don. But Don was thrilled. He was certain we'd be back on the air shortly, making a lot more money.
STATEMENT FOR CALLS RE: HOWARD STERN
The Howard Stem Program has been taken off the air at WNBC.
The reason for this move, as explained in the statement broadcast, is that conceptual differences exist between Howard Stern and WNBC regarding the program.
If you wish to state an opinion we ask you to write to:
John Hayes, vice President & General Manager
WNBC
30 Rockefeller Plaza
New York, N.Y. 10020
Thank you for your call.
GUIDELINES:
A. Be as polite as possible to all callers -- this is very important.
B. John Hayes is not accepting phone calls on this matter. -- Please write if you want.
C. We will forward mail to Howard Stern and Robin Quivers.
D. If caller becomes abusive, politely end the [call] by thanking them for their interest, then hang up.
I sequestered myself in my inner office. Hayes came around and tried to see me but I wouldn't let him in. He sat in
the outer office and talked to Robin.
"You know, my greatest fear is that you guys are going to go across the street and kick our butt," Hayes told Robin. He said that, but he didn't mean it. I know he really thought we were not employable. He also figured it would be a snap to replace us.
Meanwhile, in place of us, they were playing music and periodically interrupting it with this prerecorded message:
NOW, WNBC VICE PRESIDENT AND GENERAL MANAGER JOHN HAYES:
WNBC ISSUED THE FOLLOWING PRESS RELEASE THIS AFTERNOON. AS OF TODAY, MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 30TH, WNBC HAS CANCELED THE HOWARD STERN PROGRAM BECAUSE OF CONCEPTUAL DIFFERENCES THAT EXIST BETWEEN HOWARD STERN AND WNBC MANAGEMENT AS TO THE PROGRAM. I ENCOURAGE ANYONE WILLING TO EXPRESS AN OPINION ABOUT THE CANCELLATION OF THE HOWARD STERN PROGRAM TO WRITE TO ME,
JOHN HAYES
GENERAL MANAGER
WNBC
30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA
NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10020
YOUR COMMENTS ARE WELCOME.
While this announcement was being made, Robin and I were standing outside of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, surrounded by a few boxes containing all of my valuable tapes and bits, waiting for an NBC car that would never come. We finally took a cab. Later that night, Fred and Gary penetrated NBC security, using a forged pass, and emptied the entire contents of my office into a U.S. Postal Service van that Baba Booey had borrowed from a friend. They started at midnight and took load after load out past an uninterested-looking security guard. Finally it was 3:00 a.m. and they had packed up the last load and were almost out the door when the guard spoke up.
"Hey, you two!" the guard yelled.
Fred and Baba Booey froze in their tracks.
"You know what time it is?"
We were home free.
The next day, every paper blared the firing in its headlines. The New York Post ran a full front-page picture of me and Alison and our first daughter. One camera crew accused me of staging a disc jockey hoax. That afternoon, I hit each local news show and told my side of the story, which was that I had no idea why I was fired. Not one NBC executive would take credit either, but I had my theories.
Front page of the New York Post. The unemployed at home.
One theory, which later surfaced, was that Thornton Bradshaw, who was chairman of the board, was riding in his limousine and said to a friend, "I think we own an AM station here in New York." For the first time ever they tuned in, and heard me setting up the dude with a dog for Bestiality Dial-a-Date. Bradshaw screamed, "Fire that guy immediately!" and told Grant Tinker he'd better not hear me on the air again.
I confronted Grant Tinker several years later on the air. I was at the Emmy awards show and Tinker had just been given the prestigious Lifetime Achievement Award. Here he was beaming, glowing, stepping into the press room to answer very respectable questions. I stood up screaming, "GRANT TINKER, WHY DID YOU FIRE HOWARD STERN? WHY?" He wouldn't answer.
Meanwhile, my agent, Don Buchwald, starting sorting out the various offers we had immediately received. There were a few good ones coming from Los Angeles. But there was no pressure to take
anything. NBC had just renegotiated my contract and they still had to pay me for the next three years. NBC acknowledged this in their conversations with Buchwald and they also told him that if we went to a station in L.A., they would pay us fifty thousand dollars.
"You call them and tell them to shove their fifty thousand," I told Don. "I will never go to L.A. Tell them that I'm going to stay right
The first few days at K-Rock, knocking Imus off his perch.
here and destroy that radio station. I'll make it so bad for them that they'll have to sell that piece-of-shit station. I'm going to rob them of all their fucking ratings."
"If Howard Stern beats me,
I'll eat a dead dog's penis."
-- Don Imus
I was crazed. But I was right. A few weeks later, I signed with K-Rock to do afternoons. A few weeks after that, K-Rock asked me to switch to mornings so I could go head-to-head against Imus and destroy him. I said I would
do it and I did. My ratings soared and I dragged Shit Stain down to a one share. NBC wound up selling the station for millions less than it was worth. Pig Virus wound up in some station in the Midwest. The Incubus is back in San Francisco, humbled. Thornton Bradshaw, the former chairman of the board of NBC, is dead of a painful cerebral hemorrhage. Grant Tinker, the other moron who now publicly takes credit for firing me, hasn't had a hit TV show for years and will probably die a very painful death.
DONT FUCK WITH STERN!
Spill It
Celebrity True Confessions Chapter 7
How do I get celebrities to talk? I keep the studio dimly
lit and I try to keep them in there for hours. After a while, I just wear them down, and then they forget they're on the radio.
That's the secret.
I can't stand bullshit. I never like doing typical interviews. When you're on the radio, you have nine hundred competitors, and there's no loyalty. Your audience will abandon you in two seconds. That's why I hate my audience. They're so damn fickle. You'd think they'd have some allegiance. Just because I'm having a bad day doesn't mean they should ruin my career. And just because a celebrity is going to come on doesn't mean he is just going to come on and plug. I want people working ha
rd for me.
And besides, I don't need guests on my show because I've proven that I can get ratings without them. You come on my show, you'd better perform. I'm busy telling everyone that I jerk off every night and stick fingers up my own ass; you'd better open up, too.
Here's a bunch of celebrities I like because they're honest and can laugh at themselves:
SANDI KORN
PENTHOUSE PET
RUNNER-UP PENTHOUSE PET OF THE YEAR
Sandi is one of my favorite guests -- great to look at and incredibly naive about simple world events. Her claim to fame on my show has been her remarkable inability to answer questions that any sixth-grader would know. Sandi told me Penthouse pets were smart and that she was practically valedictorian of her school.
"Sandi, what country did Saddam Hussein invade during the Gulf War?" I asked. Fred played some "Jeopardy" music as Sandi contemplated.
"Uh ... what is ... Jerusalem?" Sandi smiled.
Who gave a shit if the answer was Kuwait, Sandi was wearing a skimpy bikini. The lump in my pants grew heavier and thicker as I thought about tying her up and eating her for an hour ... while I talked about world events.
"What political party is President Bush a member of?" I asked.
"I know he's either Republican or the other one ... but I don't know. I would say Democrat."
"Close enough," I exulted. "What is the capital of New York State?"
"Albany."
"What does the FBI stand for?"
"I don't know, I have no idea."
"Where is it located?"
"It's everywhere!"
It was fascinating watching this mind at work. I decided to give her a hard one.
"What's in iced tea?"
"Water," she said brightly.
"And?"
"Tea!"
Sandi Korn being interrogated on the set of my TV show.
We got such a great reaction to her quiz appearances that we decided to milk this thing for an
entire segment on my TV show -- the I Couldn't Get into College Bowl. So we brought Sandi back and had her match her intellect against a girl in the seventh grade named Jessica and a man with the maturity of a seventh-grader, Kenneth Keith Kallenbach, a charter member of our Wack Pack.
Suffice it to say that the seventh-grader wiped everybody out. Here's a breakdown of how Sandi did:
QUESTIONS SANDI WAS ABLE TO ANSWER CORRECTLY
1. How many days in a year?
2. Name an even number.
3. What is a clarinet?
4. What is Bush's wife's name?
5. What does E.T. stand for?
6. Who was the first president?
QUESTIONS SANDI WAS UNABLE TO ANSWER CORRECTLY
1. What does ESP stand for?
2. What country did the United States declare independence from?
3. What substance do diamonds come from?
4. Who built the pyramids?
5. Who was the host of "The Twilight Zone"?
Sandi with Chuck Norris and Shadoe Stevens on the set of $20 Pyramid.
Of course, Sandi didn't do that badly compared to Kenneth Keith. He thought diamonds were a "substance unto themselves" and that Pete Rose was the host of "The Twilight Zone."
To this day, Sandi maintains she is intelligent. In fact, she wants to reaffirm that right here.
No matter where I go, everybody remembers that show. And it's weird because I am smart. I really am. But Howard asked me about the war and I was traveling around modeling so much I didn't keep track of things like that. I really could have sworn that we bombed Jerusalem because I have a friend who lives in Jerusalem and I'm sure he told me Jerusalem was bombed. But Jerusalem, Iraq -- it's all the same, anyway.
I like Sandi a lot because of her honesty. She once revealed that Donald Trump came up to her apartment and got on top of her and kissed her and dry-humped her. Trump denies it, but it's a good story, anyway.
Sandi's most recent photo; she's totally changed her look.
"Howard Stern broke the mold." -- Ed Asner
BOB HOPE
There're two great things about having Bob Hope on my show. First, I never know if he understands half the questions I'm asking him. It seems as if he hears every other word. I've asked Bob Hope questions nobody else would ever dare to ask him and there's no way of telling if he's just avoiding answering them or he's too zoned out to understand.
"What about Martha Raye? Did she ever come on to you?" I asked.
"Martha Raye? Oh, sure! We started together."
"But the two of you were never lovers?"
"We started together at Paramount..."
"Hey, are you glad Carson's packing it in?"
"Yeach," Bob growled.
"To heck with Carson already. It's enough," I said.
"Yeah, I'm doing Carson Friday night."
"What about Ann-Margret?"
"Oh, Ann-Margret..."
"I heard you said I was the brightest talent you'd seen since Ann-Margret," I said.
"Isn't that something?"
He had absolutely no idea what I was saying. I don't know if he's on the same planet with the rest of us. But one thing he knows is how to promote whatever stupid NBC special he's got coming up. He called in to plug his new program and it was right after the L.A. riots. I tried to get him to comment on the riots but he wouldn't bite.
"I hate that looting," I said. "I hope with all those TVs they stole they watch your special."
"Yeah, right."
"You know what I'm saying."
"Saturday night!"
But the one thing that Bob loved to talk about was the fact that he used to play golf with George Bush's father, Prescott Bush. Like clockwork, every time I interviewed him he'd say exactly the same thing. "Do you know that George Bush's father's name is Prescott? Prescott Bush. I played golf with him and Eisenhower. He was a senator from Connecticut."
I don't even know if he remembered that he had told me that story nineteen times before. So the last time I interviewed him I told Robin I would find a really creative way to make him tell me the
story. "Robin, I'll get Bob Hope to tell the Prescott Bush story without asking him about George Bush, watch me."
I then called Hope and about fifteen minutes into the conversation I asked Bob if he was going to remember me in his will.
"Are you gonna leave me anything in your will?"
"I think so, Howard."
"You're considering it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Seriously, how about remembering me, Howard Stern, in your will? You have so much money a few million would be like nothing."
"I'll think about that today."
"There would be no greater honor to me than if Bob Hope, in his will, left me five million dollars. That's nothing to you."
"Something like that."
"Think about it, I'm a good guy."
"We may cut down on the zeros."
"By the way, Bob, my middle name is Prescott. Howard Prescott Stern. Make sure you put it in your will just like that."
Bob suddenly came alive. "PRESCOTT!? COME ON!!"
"Yeah, Prescott."
"Do you know that George Bush's father's name was Prescott? Prescott Bush. I played golf with him and Eisenhower. He was a senator from Connecticut."
There you are.
PATTI DAVIS REAGAN
Not only did Patti tell me that old Nancy "Just Say No" was zonked out half the time on Valium and that Patti had actually gotten banged in the White House, but she then spilled the beans about a threesome she had once participated in. She said she found it distracting. "Logistically, you had to sort of figure out who was gonna do what to whom -- you know?"
I pressed her for details. She did it with her boyfriend and his best friend. They'd been doing reefer or drinking and they all wound up sleeping together. She slept in between. She thought that was cu
te, but she wasn't a three-input woman.
All this talk was getting me crazy. I started to fantasize on the air about having my way with her. I asked her if she'd ever been spanked or tied up. She said no, but that being tied up might be an interesting idea.
"You have to trust someone a lot to let them tie you up. I don't even trust people to be nice to me, so trusting someone to tie me up would really be a stretch," she said.
"I listen to Howard every day." -- Patti Davis Reagan
"I'll teach you trust," I promised. "I'd tie you to the bed, spread-eagled, with my neckties. I'd tie your wrists to the headboard and I would take a tie and tie up your ankles. Now you're completely spread-eagled in your clothes and I walk out of the room. I'd leave for ten minutes."
"See, this is why I wouldn't let someone tie me up," Patti protested. "What a schmucky thing to do!"
"No, that would be just to make you think about what was gonna happen."
"But that's really mean," she said.
"But that's taming you! In my mind, that's getting you ready for the session."
"This is why I'm never gonna do this." "Oh, you're gonna do it," I asserted.
"That's abusive to abandon someone there," she complained.
"Of course! That would piss you off! When you tie someone up you don't do stuff they necessarily agree with. So you're tied up, you're lying there pissed, but meanwhile
you notice, five minutes into the session, that you're getting sexually aroused. Even though you're mad and upset about it, you're getting sexually aroused -- that's the sick thing about it. And you're going, This is the stupidest, schmuckiest thing. I hate this guy. When Howard comes back into the room, I'm gonna make him untie me.' But meanwhile, this is like Foreplay From Hell, because when I come back in the room, you're completely excited."
Patti started laughing now, this really weird piercing laugh from Mars. She was really getting into this scenario. I told her that she wouldn't be laughing like that if I was dominating her.
"And you're not laughing either," I continued.
"I wouldn't be laughing," she agreed. "I would be really upset."
"Actually, I could hold out a long time with you, because if you laughed like that, I would definitely not be too quick."