I was having dinner with some Asian woman last night–it was either Julie Chen or Connie Chung, but really, who the hell cares?–and she mentioned that she’d read an article on Howie Kurtz’s new book about the “latest–and possibly last–generation of Big Three Anchors.” Julie/Connie was delighted to inform me that I was actually included in that Big Three.

“The only thing that looks bad in it, Katie, is that Kurtz says Matt Lauer doubted your ability to handle the anchor job,” Julie/Connie told me. I haven’t stopped drinking since I heard this.

Memo to Matt: The “Today Show” has been number one in the morning ratings for almost 700 weeks, and all but about 53 of those weeks were because of me. No one, Matt, tunes in to see your nappy head each morning. And seriously, you’ve been on chemo for going on ten years now–either die already, or grow your goddamn hair out. What kind of cancer do you have, anyway? You’ve never said.

[Matt Lauer does not have cancer; he chooses to look that way — ed.]

There’s a passage about my now-legendary interview with Esquire, and how I confessed to playing the piano and crying when I got depressed–which is utter bullshit because I have a hot 30-something year old boyfriend; when I get depressed, I let him be on top for a change. “Playing the piano and crying” is just our code. I thought everyone knew this.

Diane Sawyer was too chicken to take the ABC anchor job because she didn’t want to go up against me. After years of kicking her ass in the morning, she didn’t want me to pummel her at night. Stupid bitch. At this point, a twelve-year-old with a stutter could whip my ass in the nightly news ratings.

And Dan. Dan Dan Dan. You’re suing CBS because you were forced to run a story you didn’t feel had been properly vetted… but Howie’s now claiming that when CBS wanted to pull the story, you threatened to leak it to the New York Times? Christ, you’re such a fuck-up.

You know what? Fuck this. Bite me, Howie Kurtz. This is the second book in as many months about me. More people are reading about me than watching me. I’m more popular than the Beatles when they were more popular than Jesus, and yet no one tunes in at 6:30 weeknights to CBS. I give up. Tomorrow night, I’m broadcasting in a bra, and there will be constant reaction shots of my shapely legs. Write about that, you assholes.