What Happens In Vegas, Stays In Vegas. Unless There Are Cameras...

I had such a good time working with the Queer Eye guys. I just love them, and I'm so impressed at how hard they work and how they're all genuine friends and really like each other.

We all went out to the Eiffel Tower in the Paris Hotel for dinner, and we caused quite a gay storm. People would see one of the Queer Eye guys and they'd get excited. Then they'd realize that all of them were there, and they literally went nuts.

Whenever anybody took a picture of our table, I'd tell them, "I hope you know you're getting a really good gay picture." If I were in that restaurant, I'd want that picture. In fact, I do want that picture. Somebody send me a copy!

There's not much to say about that Magician Max guy except that I was fascinated by that pink dog he used in his act. Not that I was fascinated with the dog, per se -- I just couldn't look at it without thinking about how my dog Chance would eat it in one bite. It would be swift, and he probably wouldn't even need to chew. If you took an x-ray, that pink dog would just be in his stomach, sleeping.

I don't want to say that my skating lesson with Johnny Weir went well, but I think I learned enough to go pro. Or at least semi-pro. Or at least I can finally fulfill my lifelong dream of creating "Comedians on Ice." Johnny was such a doll. Sure, he made that comment about me -- and it sounded bitchy -- but I don't think he meant it that way, because he's one of my gays.

Also, I heard from one of the sound guys on the shoot that when he was putting Johnny's mic on, Johnny told him how scared he was of me. Which of course just made me love him more. And I just really respect that he's still going after a wall of s**t fell on him, and there were all those nasty articles about him, and he's gotten death threats -- how crazy is that? He's a 20-year-old, three-time national champion who still lives at home with his parents, and he's gotten death threats because he didn't win a gold medal! That's f-ed up.

Although I have to admit that it was very upsetting how he picked up Jessica so effortlessly, but when he tried to lift me, he clearly pulled something. And that was after I lost the 17 pounds. I think I'll go beat the crap out of Jessica right now to make myself feel better... ...Okay, I'm back. And don't worry about Jessica. She took her beating like a lady.

CHARITY IS TIRING

People ask me all the time how I end up at all the crazy charity events I end up at, but the truth is, all those invitations just come to me as a D-lister. I'm sure Mario Lopez gets the same e-mails I do. And I'm sure Paws for Style also invited people like Hilary Swank and Keira Knightly. But they know they're never gonna get those people, so they start going down the list, and if you go far enough down the list, you get Griffin.

I get requests for appearances every day. Mostly from the gays. And any time I can't do one, they get super pissed off. God forbid I'm unavailable the day of the annual Chattanooga Gay/Lesbian/Cross-Gender/Transvestite Bake-Off -- because then I've got the entire Chattanooga Gay/Lesbian/Cross-Gender/Transvestite baking community up my ass. And, frankly, I've got enough people up my ass already. There's only so much room up there, people. But it's not just the gays who put in requests.

I just got asked to stump for Phil Angelides (the guy running for Governor against Arnold). I get requests from animal charities. Political charities. Charities benefiting some obscure clinic in the middle of Chad. Then there's other celebrities and their various charities: Leeza Gibbons' mother's charity. Camryn Manheim's cousin's charity. Eva Longoria's Hispanic People with Sniffles Foundation. They're literally coming at me from all angles. But I try to say "Yes" whenever I can.

And sometimes I pay the price.

Like that Paws for Style gig -- the minute I took it I regretted it. I knew nobody else was gonna show up. Although I did think there were sparks between me and Lipnicki. He hasn't called me yet, but he'll come around. And I always wonder just how much money these charity events raise.

I mean, sure, the Transgender cooking thing was a cool event, but then I'm like, "Great, I'm in someone's kitchen. How much could they have raked in?" Although that charity I at least thought was legit, because Ricky had an article in Time magazine, and it's a real organization, with real people in a real office, answering real phones. I get a lot of requests from so-called "charities" that are just some shady guy working out of his basement. But I'm not falling for those anymore. Call me back when you've got a plan and a mission statement and you're not quite as corrupt as the United Way.

ST. REGIS AND KATHY

You might have been surprised at my parents' lukewarm reaction when I told them I was taking them to the St. Regis, but I wasn't. Let's put it this way: The other day I asked my Mom and Dad if they wanted to be my date for the Emmys next month, and they literally said, "Not if it's too early in the day." So heads up, Emmy Awards -- my parents are giving you a pretty narrow window. If you start at an acceptable time, they'll show up. Otherwise they're going to have to pass.

But I twisted their arm, and they decided they could find some time to stay at a fancy luxury hotel for free. And we all had a great time. And I was shocked to learn of my father's crush on the late Princess Diana. I would've thought Lana Turner or Veronica Lake. Barbara Stanwyck, maybe. I had no idea he was harboring feelings for the late princess, and I don't know how my mother feels about that. She thought she married a one-woman man, and apparently she was wrong. But as my Mom would say, "Don't hate the player, hate the game."

That's all from the D-List. Thanks so much for watching this season! And wish me luck at the Emmys. I sear to God, if I lose to that Dog Whisperer guy, I'm quitting the business.