Private Parts (32 page)

Read Private Parts Online

Authors: Howard Stern

Tags: #General, #Autobiography, #Biography, #Biography & Autobiography, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #United States, #USA, #Spanish, #Anecdotes, #American Satire And Humor, #Thomas, #Biography: film, #Entertainment & Performing Arts - General, #Disc jockeys, #Biography: arts & entertainment, #Radio broadcasters, #Radio broadcasting, #Biography: The Arts, #television & music, #Television, #Study guides, #Mann, #Celebrities, #Radio, #Entertainment & Performing Arts - Television Personalities

BOOK: Private Parts
3.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Backstage before the show, I suddenly felt like I was back in high school. Everybody there was trying so hard to be cool. The blacks were on one side, the whites on the other; everybody was going out of their way trying to look like this whole gig was a burden, trying to outcool each other. That "My Prerogative" guy, Whitney Houston's husband, Bobby Brown, was back there with about nine hundred black guys hanging around, bodyguards or something. If you're a white guy, they all stare at you, and they don't smile. Nobody can smile at each other. When I saw Bobby Brown, I said, "What's going on in there?" He barely smiled. Hey, Bobby Brown's a multimillionaire married to Whitney Fucking Houston. How tough could that be? It's gotta be fun to get up and dance. On his worst day his feet are sore.

My ass was so fucking embarrassing, I kept covering myself. Everybody was staring at me. You have to remember, my buttocks were full of fucking pockmarks, cellulite, hairs, all kinds of shit. But the reaction from every celebrity I passed was unbelievable. I walked by Mick Jagger, and he was disgusted. I'm standing in this dressing room, and all of a sudden, there was a Michael Jackson look-alike in there and he was looking at me like
I'm
some kind of jerk. He was a fucking Michael Jackson look-alike, and he was staring at me? I passed by Shannen Doherty, and she gave me a look like, "You fucking piece of shit." It was a very strange vibe going up to do this.

Then it was show time. Time for my segment. I was thirty feet in the air and I looked down and saw Luke Perry being introduced. He

went to the podium and said, "I would like to introduce my copresenter 'cause no one else has the balls to show up and do it." Pretty cool, I thought. "From a land far away and long, long ago, it's a bird, it's a plane" -- hey he was really getting into it -- "it's a really bad smell. Ladies and gentlemen, F-F-F-F-Fartman!" Whap! I was on my way down. The farting noises were coming right on cue, I was booming out, "Yes, I'm Fartman. I'm the superhero Fartman." I landed on the stage in one piece. So far, so good. "Superman is nothing. Yes, behold the most beautiful of sights. It is this." I turned my back to the audience and stuck out my buttocks. The audience was going wild.

We were stealing the show. Luke was going wild applauding. "Yes, I am Fartman." I turned around with my back to the audience again. "Is the camera getting a good shot of my beautiful ass? Look at it. It has powers." The place was going wild. "Allow me to demonstrate the greatest farting powers of all." I bent over, tensed up, and
BOOM!
the fucking podium exploded in a cloud of smoke. I blew the podium apart with my fart! I couldn't believe I was fucking doing this. I mean, I was almost forty years old. How sick was this?

"Luke, look at my ass." Luke was my disciple now. "Touch it for power. Rub it!" Luke held his hands up and grabbed my cheeks as if he were worshiping at the altar of my anus. Then he held his hands up, like he was cured. I felt like Jimmy Swaggart. "Yes, you may be laughing at my ass now, but when my movie
Fartman
becomes number one, all of

Hollywood will kiss my ass." I farted to punctuate the sentence. "Do not adjust your televisions at home. This is really my ass." Another fart. There was no stopping me now. "Who of you would like to touch my ass?" The whole first ten rows started squealing in delight. A cute young girl jumped onto the stage. "C'mon up here, honey, touch it for power." I had this total stranger kneading my buttocks. This was too weird. "Yes, thank you, darling." It was time to present the awards, but I was on a roll. "How did that ass feel, Luke?"

"Great ass, man." He pinched my belly fat. I was beginning to really like this kid.

"Now that you have saved us from the dangers of clean breathable air..." He was starting in on the business at hand but I wasn't through yet. I leaned over, grabbed his face, and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

"He's the next James Dean," I crowed. "Let's get to the category filled with flashbacks and smoke machines, the best metal/hardrock video." They showed the clips of the nominees. When they came back from the clips, I had my back to the audience and I was shaking my Jell-O-ed ass. I opened the envelope. "The winner is Metallica," I boomed.

I love the band Metallica, and their last CD is some of the best music I ever heard, but these guys were taking the event way too seriously.

These two creeps from Metallica came down to accept the award. One of them, Lars Ulrich, was this total idiot who thought he was God's gift to the world of compact-disc technology. The other guy, a Carlos Santana look-alike, was wearing a beret. Enough said. This Lars jerk immediately went into a little self-pitying speech about how long it had been before these creeps won something from MTV. Meanwhile, the audience was going apeshit over me and Luke fooling

around on the side. This jerk Lars started screaming at the audience to shut up. I couldn't believe he was telling his so-called fans to shut up. Then he started yelling at me, in the middle of his acceptance speech. "Hey, man, don't steal all the attention here, okay." What a dick.

Afterward, I was in the press room, having forgotten I was in my outfit. I was walking around and people were like nauseated. I went and posed for all these pictures, and they made every newspaper, with my disgusting ass and belly sticking out. Then there was all this debate in the press as to whether or not I should have done this, how it was such a terrible, terrible thing, how it brought a complete lack of decorum to the MTV awards. I'm going, "Excuse me. Decorum? This is MT Fucking V!"

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HOWARD STERN'S ASS?

(Asked of celebs at the press conference after the MTV event)

ANTHONY KIEDIS,
Red Hot

Chili Peppers:
I was more impressed by other things this evening.

DENIS LEAHY,
Comic.
Watching Howard Stern's ass was the most fun I ever had, man.

DANA CARVEY,
Comic and Host
of Show:
I'm still haunted by it. I tried the Fartman outfit on later and we

took snapshots and compared our

asses. I thought he was really funny.

It was great... we love each other very much.

CINDY CRAWFORD,
Model:
I thought it was disgusting and if my ass looked like that I wouldn't show it on national television.

Hey, Cindy, you better hope your ass doesn't look like mine because your looks are the only talent you have. To tell you the truth, I'm

thinking about stuffing a balloon up my ass to make it look better. Or

better yet, maybe I'll buy Cindy's incredibly dangerous exercise

video. Give me a break, idiot. You empty-headed bim. "It was disgusting." No kidding, honey, that's why I showed it. All she has is the ability to look good. Let me tell you, Cindy, I guarantee as soon as you start looking a little old, I bet Richard Gere starts seeing other women. What do

you think, he's there for your brains? Believe me, in ten years we'll

see if you're still together. I'm sure

your religious husband, the cerebral

Richard Gere, will stay with you when

you look bad. Your personality is great

when you look like Cindy Crawford, but Cindy Crawford at forty is not

going to be Cindy Crawford. I want to be there the day Cindy Crawford gets into a disfiguring car accident and

Richard Gere has to live out his years

staring at a legless, toothless, titless

Cindy Crawford. Oh, please, dear

Lord, let me be there for that big

event.

Lord, I offer you this prayer so that

I might be a witness to Cindy

Crawford's disfiguring car crash.

Dear Lord: I am a sinner. I need Jesus Christ to come into my life and become my Lord and Savior. I give my life to you in Jesus' name. For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. My prayer is that you will allow me to be a part of this tremendous event when Cindy loses all her looks and is forced to rely on that dynamic personality. Thank you.

"I wouldn't mind sitting across the table from Howard. He's cute." -- Carol Alt

"Jeers to shock jock and fledgling E! Entertainment Television talk-show host Howard Stern for his asinine appearance on the MTV Video Music Awards. Where was the infamous blue dot when we needed it?"

--
T
V Guide,
December 26,1991

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HO
WARD STERN'S ASS?

SAMMY HAGAR,
Lead Singer of Van Halen:
Howard Stern is a jerk. He ruined the whole

show. I don't know why you let him up there.

Here's a guy who's desperately searching for an image. He has no image so his new image is he's street tough, a scrappy fighter, Hagar the Horrible. His big beef with me is that I don't enjoy him in Van Halen. That's pretty pathetic, isn't it? So now he's walking around strutting his stuff, "I'm gonna kick his ass." He's not kicking anybody's ass. A multimillionaire who's smart enough not to kick anyone's ass, who's he fooling? But he's going to come off like some scrappy young rock star. He's full of shit. He's a phony. I was sitting right there, three feet from him. Hard to miss me. He's a calculated businessman, that's all. I'm so sick of these millionaires trying to be street-tough gangsters. Wait until Van Halen starts going out in concerts and they start screaming out "Howard Stern" wherever he goes. Whenever you see Sammy Hagar just scream out
"Howard Stern!"
Make him nuts.

"If I were selling zero records, he wouldn't be on my case. He's a loser. I'll kick his ass if I ever see him."

--
Sammy Hagar

More and More Hate Mail

Dear Robin and Howard,

This morning I happened to tune in to your talk show and I have a question. What is the aim of your program? It didn't entertain or inform or instruct. I also have some comments to make. Mother Teresa, Cardinal O'Conner, and the Knights of Columbus are all good people and should not be the butt of your "jokes." Concerning Mother Teresa's garb - she lives in India and is wearing the native woman's dress. Why did you have to emphasize anything about her derriere?

Sirs:

Stern, You constantly use the name of OUR Lord in vain. your are a FULL BLOODED JEW! You look, and smell like a Jew. You are evil and slander others like a Jew. Use the name of your Chief Rabbi-or Moses when you must curse. Leave the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ off of your dirty tongue. You are a disgrace to the human race. Die Jew bastard die!!

Dear Mr. Stern:

I was very troubled by your discussion with Linda Blair in which you again alluded to your wife's "breast cancer" from which she is expected to die suggesting Ms. Blair would be a suitable replacement.

This USA founded by Christians ha nothing now to brag about. The Howard Stern Show out of NY is filtering the people's airways with dirty, filthy, talk, stlu too dirty to mention and something needs to be done! Men's minds are evil continually the Bible says. Howard Stern will eventually rot in hello!

To Howard Stern "Sleeze",

I'm so
incensed, and ashamed after listening to your program today where you 'bashed" poor Mrs. Bush. I'll say this. If it were me, I'd get to that studio, and blacken your miserable crossed eyes, as you would deserve it throughly.

Here i
s a woman who has done no harm to you or the American Public. You have demeaned and defamed her in your worst thoughtless manner. You have also offended all women regardless of what age they are. How about your mother Howard? Maybe she has cheese in her folds too.

The Wack Pack
Chapter 10

I've always been fascinated by people on the fringe.

So it was natural that as soon as I got a radio show, I started cultivating these very special people as regulars. To me, they're much more interesting and compelling than any stupid celebrity who's touring to promote his latest mass-media drivel. And with repeated exposure on my shows, these unusual people actually
become
stars. Before we had him on the show, Fred the Elephant Boy was an adult virgin working in some crummy job in Manhattan and living in Queens. Now, after we've made him a star in his own right, he travels around the country introducing professional wrestlers when he's not working in his crummy job in Manhattan and living in Queens. But at least we got him laid!

On the following few pages, we present a pictorial gallery of my famous Wack Pack. These are the true stars of my program who, by virtue of their unusual talents, have attained a special status on my show. Long may their tongues aflutter, long may their neurons misfire, long may their penises burn.

KING OF ALL MESSENGERS

(CHRIS GIGLIOI
)

Defining characteristic:
Has a regular job, wife, and kids.

Origins:
Made a phony phone call to Donahue and played it on Howard's radio show.

Greatest accomplishment:
Was on CNN live during the coverage of the World Trade Center bombing aftermath. Told CNN he was trapped on the eightieth floor. Claimed that a gas leak from Fartman caused an explosion in the building. When asked why he wasn't evacuating the building with the rest of the people he said he was waiting to talk to Stuttering John or Baba Booey.

Future ambition:
To produce a cassette of his greatest prank phone calls like his hero, Captain Janks.

CAPTAIN JANKS

(THOMAS CIPRIANO
)

Defining characteristic:
Adopted the twisted persona of his commanding officer in the army.

Origins:
Made the first phony Howard Stern call to the Larry King show.

Greatest accomplishment:
The time he sneaked past the screeners of Jerry Lewis's MD telethon impersonating Larry King and asked, "What do you think of Howard Stern?"

Other books

The Guardians of Island X by Rachelle Delaney
The Year Without Summer by William K. Klingaman, Nicholas P. Klingaman
Angel Love by Dee Dawning
Espejismo by Louise Cooper
The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke
Castro Directive by Mertz, Stephen
Keeping Her Secret by Sarah Nicolas
The Etruscan Net by Michael Gilbert