News from the literary scene! Dustin Diamond, a cast member from the beloved television show Saved by the Bell, has signed a deal to write a memoir: "Behind the Bell, which Gotham Books preempted from Objective Entertainment's Jarred Weisfeld, promises to detail 'sexual escapades among cast members, drug use, and hardcore partying.'" If the excerpt obtained by Radar is any indication, it's going to be one man's searing investigation into his own role on a popular show for tweens, and all which that entails.

On the face of it, I am no more qualified to take my own inventory than the chick from Punky Brewster who shows up on Entertainment Tonight or The Insider every five years or so. Ask her how she wound up repeating the same old anecdotes to Billy Bush again, and she may have an answer, but she doesn't really know and probably couldn't bear it if she did.

To be a washed-up actor best known for a show which ended in 1993 is to be something of a cognitive acrobat. You spread versions of yourself around, giving each person the truth he or she needs—you need, actually—to keep yourself in the public eye, no matter how much mockery it entails or how diminishing the returns. Let's stipulate that I do not have a good memory, having recklessly sautéed my brain in fistfuls of craft services M&M's. Beyond impairment, there may be no more unreliable narrator than a washed-up actor. Recovered or not, I am someone who used my mouth to constantly create one more opportunity to get publicity.

Here is what I deserved: a small cameo on NYPD Blue when the Goss was on it, a mid-afternoon radio show in a minor market, and then a total fade-out leading to complete anonymity punctured by soul-crushing loneliness and, at best, a cashier's job at a dry cleaning supplies store.

Here is what I got: A poorly-received sex tape, a slot on Season Six of Celebrity Fit Club, and the deal for this book.

But I suppose you're not interested in my musings on the vagaries of fate. You'd rather just hear about the part where I was up to my nuts in Principal Belding's guts while Kelly Kapowski blew lines off of Mario Lopez's cock. Man, they never let us back into that Bennigan's again. Anyway, here's what happened.

That's where our copy ends, but, man, are we ever excited to read the rest!