List of 12 Top-Earning Show Host Personalities on AOL today:

1. Oprah Winfrey — $275 million
2. Dr. Phil McGraw — $80 million
3. Simon Cowell — $75 million
4. Howard Stern — $70 million
5. Rush Limbaugh — $54 million
6. Donald Trump — $50 million
7. David Letterman — $46 million
7. Judge Judy — $45 million
9. Ryan Seacrest — $38 million
10. Ellen DeGeneres — $35 million
11. Jay Leno — $32 million
12. Tyra Banks — $30 million

Holy Christ on the cross, that is a lot of moolah, folks. The 12 people combined make a total of 802 million dollars. That, my friends, is just outright obscene.

You know, I look at this and wonder what the hosts of old would be making by today’s standards – names like Johnny Carson, Dean Martin, Dick Cavett, Dinah Shore, Merv Griffin, Mike Douglas and other greats of their eras. The present day top dozen is a weird and eclectic mix of so-called stars and iconic windbags, for sure.

Let’s take a look-see…shall we?…

#12. Tyra Banks.
Wow, I don’t get it. Ok, she’s a supposed super model. I don’t think she’s so hot and she is a crappy show host. The drama she tries to portray is staged, forced, and uninteresting. I saw an episode of her show once where she went back to her high school and they showed her yearbook picture, and of course today’s Tyra looks SO NOTHING like she once did, that I think calling her a super model is a farce. Everything is fake: nose, cheeks, boobs, hair – there is no natural beauty. But may I say that for thirty mil, I too would get a new shnaz and a big ol’ pair of hooters. Come on people… don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

#11 Jay Leno
If you know anything at all about this guy, he has worked so goddamned hard to get where he is. The man is relentless and dedicated. Okay, so his car collection is worth more than the gross national product of Guadalupe., but everybody’s gotta have a hobby, right? The tonight show is an American institution and to me, the host is supposed to get major bucks. I have no problem with Leno on this list and by all rights, he should be a lot higher up the ladder, if you ask me.

#10 Ellen DeGeneres
I’m sure you Neanderthals are expecting some crude lesbians jokes and what not, but I’ve actually always like DeGeneres. She’s a funny comedian and a decent show host because she’s sincere and down to earth. Unlike Rosie, Ellen is pretty much unassuming, and looks like a regular everyday guy. She’s not offensive in anyway and has worked incredibly hard to be accepted. Face it, to come out as she did took a lot of balls, which she just my have, but that’s not the point. What is the point? Not sure, but she makes a hell of a lot of dough as the only openly gay person on the list. Kudos to Ms. D. (I said balls…heh, heh.)

#9 Ryan Seacrest
Whatever you think of this unassuming dwarf, he has invented himself as a brand and has marketed himself quite well. Every week he stands up to Simon Cowell’s acerbic assholiness, and that alone should be worth mucho dollars. The imp just signed a three years deal on Idol for 45 mil. And for some reason, chicks dig him. I think being #9 on this list may have something to do with it.

#8 Judge Judy
WTF? I was blown away by this one. Judge Judy is like Jerry Springer with a gavel. It’s retard television and I simply cannot believe what this bossy old broad makes. A real statement of our mindless culture.

#7 David Letterman
He wanted Carson’s job and didn’t get it, he has a queen for a band director, and now makes more money than Leno. Plus the dude gave up cigars for health reasons. I just can’t respect that.

#6 Donald Trump
The 50 mil only refers to the money he makes as host of the Apprentice. He’s a brutal windbag, his hair is an endangered species, his daughter is gorgeous, as are his string of wives. And even though he’s a megalomaniac of mammoth proportions, I like his friggin show. I don’t know why exactly, but I probably should have a mental examination. Did I mention his daughter is friggin hot?

#5 Rush Limbaugh
Love or hate him, the man is brilliant and has created his own cottage industry. Sure he’s one-sided and full of himself to know end, but the guy has a faithful listening audience every single day, and 50% of those people hate him more than Satan himself. As much as he is a staunch Republican, his best material comes when a democrat is in office. 54 million sure is an awful lot money to talk on the radio, ain’t it?

#4 Howard Stern
Love or hate him, the man is brilliant and has created his own cottage industry. Sure he’s one-sided and full of himself to know end, but the guy has a faithful listening audience every single day, and 50% of those people hate him more than Satan himself. Wait a minute, didn’t I just say that? Stern has successfully pandered to the cretin in all of us and for that, I applaud the guy. He has given credibility to satellite radio and fake breasted, hot dog swallowing lesbians everywhere.

#3 Simon Cowell
Before American Idol, I believe Cowell was making about 30 grand a year. Yes, he’s a sour prick with a bad haircut, but in my opinion, there’s no other real reason to watch the show. HE reportedly wants 100 million next season or he’ll walk. Paula’s leaving so I say give it to him. Give the limey bastid whatever he wants. He IS that show.

#2 Dr. Phil
You have got to be f@#king kidding me. No really, you’re jerkin’ my Ghurka, right? Guys, they don’t make blowhards any worse than this chrome domed Freudian slip. I’d rather watch a George Forman Grill infomercial than spend an hour with that baloney headed, sham. And I really laughed when that fat shyster came out with a diet book. But at 80 million a year, he’s the turkey necked prick laughing all the way to Fort Knox.

#1 Oprah
That’s it… just Oprah. You don’t need the last name, cuz she’s all that. Mindless house fraus across the world worship this broad like a goddess and I will NEVER in all my days understand the attraction. Men simply don’t get Oprah. Although if I was on one of those shows where she’s giving out cars or some crazy shit like that, maybe it would help sway my feelings. She made Dr. Phil of Shit and Rachel Ray, and any guest who appears on her show gets 12 trillion hits on their website and shops for a Lamborghini the following day. Listen guys, no matter how you slice it, 275 million dollars is sick money and no person on this earth, especially a broad with zero talent, should have this much power. That’s right, she doesn’t have a talent. She don’t sing, dance, spin plates or nothing. She’s just Oprah, and I don’t get it.

So that’s it. What say ye? Anything other than begging for boob shots like the knuckle-dragging apes many of you truly are?

And for the record, God, I hope I can make that list.

Later,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

A few years ago, the web phenom, My Space began and it was all the rage. Like many, I started my own page, but soon found out that this fashionable forum was mainly for teenagers and horny pervs. It gave people a chance to basically have their own intenet portal, and communicate with friends, discreetly, via the web. But the messages I got on a daily basis were from dopey kids, half backed retards, and skanks who wanted to talk dirty for $65 an hour. It didn’t help my business dealings as I had hoped, and I stopped using it. I still have a My Space page but haven’t visited it in well over a year or so.

Then some brainy, baby-faced, Jewish kid from Harvard invented a thing called Facebook. He’s now the richest person in the world under the age of 25 and his estimate worth is right around a billion dollars.

It took me a while to join Facebook, along with a lot of coaxing from friends, including my buddy, author, Larry Winget. He kept telling me how great it was for business networking and I could really drive a lot of traffic to my website. Others said I would connect with long lost friends, relatives, and other interesting folks of the world. I was reluctant – basically because I’m not a conformist who jumps on bandwagons and rides the trends that happen to be the flavor of the day. After much procrastination, I finally signed up and found it to actually be enjoyable. Several honeys from high school looked me up and they’re hotter than ever! Okay, there’s a few fatties that didn’t age so well, but they’re all good people and nice to hear from. (Plus, I found another 8 Tom Zarzecki’s. Whould think it?)

Many of the guys I yak with on cigar forums and such, have Facebook pages, so I get to know a little more about them and talk more one on one. Plus, I get to get my cojones broken from members of THIS forum, over there, including Darren From Detroit, Lucie, Brian B, Maduroman, Madfermaduro, RL7, and Cotty. If you have a specialized interest or hobby, you can connect with tons of like minded goons, as I did with the stogie-sucking crowd. (But be ready to receive 12,000 annoying requests to join Mafia Wars.)

But I really have to admit that Larry was right, Facebook has been a great networking device for my website. Social marketing is king right now and connecting with my fan base and potential fan base has been greatly enhanced. I have over 500 friends, and that means every time I post something new on my page, like a new article I’ve written, those 500 plus people get to hear about it. And it’s been great hearing from people that either read my stuff in Cigar Magazine or on my site, as well as turning new people onto my stuff. Larry Winget has close to 3,000 fans, which is has helped him immensely.

Now if, you’re not the social type, then Facebook definitely isn’t for you. And God help you, because then Twitter REALLY isn’t for you. Many have joined Twitter, but I completely loathe this pablum puking piece of retard techno-drivel. It gained huge popularity when Ashton Kutcher challenged CNN to see who could reach a million fans first. Kutcher won, appeared on Larry King, and I sat there saying, “Big f@#king deal.” If your not familiar with it, Twitter is a gross misuse of technology, a narcissistic social web toy created for people suffering from chronic boredom. “Jack is on his way to Shoetown… Gary is applying balm on his corns… Janice is thinking of feta cheese… Charlie is rubbing one out to Cosmo.” Twitter allows you to send inane messages containing no more than 140 characters to any mindless stooge who feels the obligation to follow your every waking move. Many use it to keep tabs on the rich and famous… Oprah Winfrey is thinking of buying Canada… Mylie Cyrus doesn’t believe she’s a talentless media creation… Tommy Lee just punched the pool boy… Jennifer Love Hewitt’s ass was just given it’s own zip code… Mike Tyson learned the difference between vowels and consonants this morning. I can’t stomach the thought of Twittering my life away, and it’s really nobody’s goddamned business what movie I’m watching, food I’m devouring, or bathroom I’m defiling. So…Tweet THIS.

Between chat forums, web boards, blogs, Facebook, My Space, Twitter, Linkedin, and the rest of the social stratosphere, I’m wondering if anyone is actually doing any friggin’ work, anymore. I know if you’re reading this, then you’re not… but hey, that’s a good thing.

So look me up on Facebook. I’m the one with the beer and the cigar and the shit-eating grin… Graduated from West Milford High in New Jersey in ’77, likes the color green, played hockey for the New Jersey Rockets, the 1978, US Junior B National Champions, and enjoys a COUGAR or two.

Until Next Week,
Socially Yours,

Tommy Z.

JR Cigars Blog With the Zman

Ah, the family road trip. Since the economy blows, instead of spending a fortune on airfare and some tropical far away money pit, we decided to see the nation’s capital a few weeks ago, and right now as we speak, I’m scribing this wonderful bloggy from a Hampton Inn, on the outskirts of chocolately Hershey, Pennsylvania.

I’m actually sitting under a tree at 8pm, on the side of the hotel, smoking a delectable Don Pepin Blue Lancero. On the way here we drove through Amish country in Lancaster, PA, and made a stop at Demuth’s Tobacconist, where owner Jack was so kind to present me with this treasure of a smoke. Demuth’s was established in 1770, making it the oldest tobacconist in the United States. It’s a gorgeous and nostalgic little shop and I could have stayed all damned day if it weren’t for the fact that the wife and kids were waiting impatiently in the car, on the street.

So we’re here in chocolate town, USA, and we spent all day Sunday in the amusement park – walking, and walking, and walking some more. Hershey is simply a beautiful place to visit – so clean, friendly, and the park features eleven roller coasters, not a one in which I partook in. Oh my kids, 14 and 18, rode every one over and over, but their dad just happens to be a vile wuss, one who despises vertical drops, loop-de-loops, and uncontrollable bouts of centrifugal force – which in turn causes his uncontrollable loosening of the bowels. TMI? Maybe – but factual, none the less.

I have always hated fast and furious amusement rides. When I was a little kid my dad stuck me on a roller coaster that terrorized me so fiercely that I instantly needed a psychotherapist and a clean pair of shorts. Today I watched the kids on Farenheit, the steepest vertical drop coaster in the world., and I nearly soiled my Underoos just watching those two masochists, who were loving every damned second of it.

Whoa, my good brutha, this Pepin is the bomb… delicious flavor, perfect draw, tons of smoke – the perfect ending to an evening in Pennsylvania Dutch farm country.

Say… did I forget to mention that the park is chock full of more hot moms than you can shake your Reeses Pieces at? My God, it’s a milf hunter’s buffet, and as you might expect I’m making a very obvious jackass of myself. At least I had on my extra-dark sunglasses, and I had the Linda Blair head rotation thing down to a science. (Um, could someone please help to remove the grotesque “L” that’s embroidered on my forehead? The kids get oh-so embarrassed when people spend the day pointing and staring.

Road trips with the family – something you remember for the rest of your life. When I was a kid, we drove in a VW Beetle with no air conditioning, vinyl seats, my brother and I beating the piss out of one another – and dad smoked DeNobilis – the equal to cat shit rolled in tar paper. Trust me when I say…who could ever forget that?

Tomorrow we arise for our complimentary breakfast and do the big park all over again. Hottie cougar mommas be prepared, the stogie-sucking Polack from New Jersey will be making the rounds once more.

Well, that’s it for now as the Pepin is winding down and the indoor pool is calling my name for a pre-bedtime dip. So, until next week,, I bid you farewell from my chocolate induced stupor from the confines of the Keystone State.

Later all,

Tommy Z.

JR CIGARS Blog Wiht the Zman

I’m not sure what the average number is, but people die every day. Okay, let me take that back. I just looked on ASK.com and an average of 146, 000 people on the planet kick the proverbial bucket every 24 hours –  an average of 6,083 per hour. That’s an interesting fact and one that you don’t think about every day. People continue pass from our earthly plain , and unless it’s a friend, acquaintance, or relative, we don’t give it any thought – life just goes on as usual. But when celebrities die, our tv’s, newspapers, and computer screens are filled with enough sensationalism to last another lifetime.

It does rather seem that famous folk are dropping at an alarming clip as of late. The latest is NFL quarterback, Steve McNair, a victim of homicide over the last couple of days. It’s always shocking to hear when it’s a person who is noteworthy, especially when they’re not old – in this case, McNair, who was only 36. We are captivated when these people go, and the media certainly doesn’t let you forget – in many instances, to the point of brutal nauseum. Case in point, then death of Princess Diana in 1997. Sad, yes… but to dominate our every waking moment for weeks on end was a media ghoul’s dream and our worst nightmare. Lady Di, 24/7, drove us all to the brink of insanity – all except for the Enquirer crowd who generally hang on every ounce of pablum vomit the media can possibly dish up. “Get yer Pricess Di collector’s plates here…get ‘em while she’s cold!”

I took a peak at an aol.com story today, which is a re-cap of the famously deceased in 2009… Maria de Jesus, the oldest living person passed on January 2, 2009 at 116 years old, John Travolta’s son, Jett, Ricardo Montalban, Pulitzer Prize-winning author, John Updike, actor James Whitmore, Broadcasting pioneer, Paul Harvey, Alan Livingston, who was the creator of Bozo the Clown and former president of Capitol Records who signed the Beatles and Frank Sinatra, actor and political activist Ron Silver, Stage and screen actress, Natasha Richardson, Porn Queen, Marilyn Chambers, Philadelphia Phillies announcer Harry Kalas, actress Bea Arthur, Congressman and NFL quarterback, Jack Kemp, Comedic actor, Dom DeLuise, actor David Carradine, Longtime ‘Tonight Show’ sidekick, Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Comedian, impersonator, Fred Travalena, and renowned tv pitchman, Billy Mays, just to name a few.

What?… Did I forget somebody? My “Bad.”

Last week while in Washinton DC, I walked outside of the Museum of American History, and my daughter gets a text from a friend that Michael Jackson is dead. Suddenly there’s a buzz on the street that the so-called King of Pop has done his final moonwalk. Now, Farrah Fawcett has died earlier in the day, but no one really pays notice because the bleach skinned, sequin gloved owner of the Elephant Man has left the friggin building. That night in the hotel room, every channel on television is consumed with the mysterious death of magic Michael. I can’t even get the baseball scores or the weather report because the frightening looking dude with the chiseled nose can no longer grab his crotch on stage. I’m now subjected to hours of Geraldo, Al Sharpton, and other talentless slugs, as my wife just can’t get enough.

I am not and have NEVER been a fan of the youngest Jackson. I loathed his music and despised his media controlling antics. It has been said that half the bizzaro things reported about him were indeed actually released by Jackson, himself. Every interview I watched was with people who loved, worshiped, praised and adored him and his music. I never saw a single interview with people like myself, who though he was a walking freak show of the highest order. Remember when his nose fell off in court…when he dangled his hooded baby over that balcony…when he admitted that young boys would sleep in his bed? And now for days on end I hear his dreaded tunes and see his freakish bodily gyrations on the flat screen, all the livelong day. I’d much rather watch a Charlie’s Angel’s marathon on Nickelodeon, or dare I say, Oxy Clean commercials for hours on end – But WAIT…there’s MORE!

Wow, the media loves this shit, I mean they just love it. When the famous croak, the dollars mount. Death to the King of Pop means ultra high ratings and cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching! Watching Greta Van Susteren talk out the side of her face is bad enough, but seeing her whore out with the likes of Larry King is just pure bloody hell to take. The media sucks every last ounce of marrow from the bone and when it’s dried, they move onto the next victim of prey. Oh, hey, sorry…didn’t mean to mention Michael Jackson and bone sucking in the same paragraph. An honest blunder, I assure you.

Well, that’s enough of this morbidity. I’ve beaten this topic to death and it’s time to enjoy life, folks. Show’s over, folks… move along…nothing more to see here.

Have a good one,
Tommy Z.,
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman.