Good evening from Sun Valley!
I really didn’t think I would make it this year. I had a medical procedure earlier in the day (no details other than it burns like a mother fucker).
I know you’re not supposed to drink after popping a couple of Hillbilly Heroins to dull the pain, but I couldn’t resist. It’s the freakin’ DRANKIN’ HOLE and I needed a dirty martini fix.
The greatest bartender in the world, Vin Tran, is still here – but it took me a moment to recognize him. I mean… HER. It seems that Vin Tran is now Jen Tran and has undergone what they call “gender reversal surgery.”
I grew up in Hollywood (which means nothing surprises me), so I congratulated her on her “awakening” and left it at that. As long as that fucker can make the best damn dirty martini in the world, I don’t care how many dicks you remove from your body.
The vibe at Sun Valley this year is, to put it mildly, very odd. Old moguls are pretty much done with their careers, and, let’s be honest, their lives.
I’ve made it very clear to Herbie Allen that Manka Bros. is not for sale. We don’t need to acquire anyone to survive. We’ll make it.
The one that has to be pissing blood is Les Moonves.
My great friend Jeff Bewkes is making his victory lap at his last rodeo in Sun Valley. He should be wearing one of those gold lamé suits that the dancers wear at the end of “A Chorus Line” – that $200 million looks good on you. You cashed out before the coming “great collapse.” Good for you. Godspeed, JB.
Even the tech guys are fucking old now. Zuckerberg, Brin, Sergey (whatever), that must all be fifty by now. “Look out you rock n’ roller. Pretty soon you’re gonna get older.” Bezos isn’t fooling anyone with those collagen injections.
Jen Tran set me up with another as Brian Roberts entered the bar. He looks exhausted. I would look the same way if I was preparing to overbid $30 billion dollars for fucking Fox. Rupert is another one that needs one of those gold lamé suits from “A Chorus Line.”
Just as I was starting to relax, Brian chatted me up.
Brian Roberts: Khan, how are you? How’s the syphilis?
Me: Ix-ne on the yphilis-se.
Brian Roberts: Sorry, I thought I read about in the trades.
Me: Nope. It’s not public like your penis enlarging.
Brian Roberts: OK.
Brian Roberts drained a fist of vodka and put his head in his hands.
Brian Roberts: What should I do, Khan? This deal is bullshit.
Me: Don’t do it. Let Disney have that nightmare. Buy Lionsgate, CBS and Viacom. Fucking consolidate everything else.
As though right on cue, Bob Iger enters the bar.
Bob Iger: What’s up, bitches?!
Brian Roberts sticks out his foot and trips him.
Brian Roberts: Have a nice trip.
Bob Iger falls hard to the ground.
Brian Roberts: See you in the fall.
Two Disney crew members quickly picked Bob Iger up and placed him on a barstool.
Bob Iger: Real nice, Brian. Khan Manka! Putting on weight I see.
Me: Fuck you, Bob. At least I didn’t screw up “Star Wars.”
And then the evening truly took a turn for the worst as Jeff Bezos entered the bar, shirtless, shining with a fresh coat of coconut oil on his jacked up pecks.
Jeff Bezos: Hey, old media, I’ve decided to consolidate all the companies of the world into one company. What company do you think that is?
He then flexed and did the peck up and down thing that body builders do.
Jen Tran served up Jeff Bezos the dirtiest martini I’ve ever seen. The kind of dirty martini you get when you have $150 billion.
Fuck, I have to get to the gym.
P.S. – Tomorrow is going to blow so hard. It’s all about Blockchain, Stealing Data and Lives From Consumers and the King of Jordan (whose horse I bought years ago).