My agent
How in just ten slippery years I became head of a major television studio is a problem best left to serious students of marine life. Suffice it to say that the administration's priorities shifted and certain persons in the East Coast Establishment became sensitive to revelations. I also wish to thank my agent, Phil, for transcribing the tapes.

Life under the domelights of Hollywood may be likened to nothing so much as a box of wet cats on a Thursday night. One is never quite sure what is going on, or indeed if. I learned my lessons through a series of deep pressure massages and unspeakably sadistic shoe fittings. I became hard, cold, and slightly opalescent. My friends no longer felt comfortable in their jacuzzis. I feared my sanity.

What is going on

Wet cats