Leslie Jones Roasts Bad Rentals, Talks Menopause and Takes Over Studio 1A

Carpeted Bathrooms, Fake Flowers And Hot Flashes Never Stood A Chance

Leslie Jones has found an HGTV job that feels less like a career pivot and more like the universe finally putting the correct woman in front of the correct carpeted bathroom.

On the new series Roast My Rental, the comedian and longtime HGTV fan walks into some of the country’s lowest-rated short-term rentals, says exactly what every disappointed guest was too tired to type, and then joins renovation expert Jasmine Roth in helping the owners turn the disasters around.

The best part is that Jones does not receive a softened preview before entering. She sees the property for the first time with the cameras rolling, which means the fear, confusion and immediate concern for her crew are all happening in real time.

One featured rental greeted her with suspicious curtains, more duct tape than any vacation should require, mildew, electrical concerns and a loft dangerous enough to make her stop and check whether her head cameraman Marcus was emotionally prepared to continue. He was not looking well. Neither was the house.

Jones told Jenna Bush Hager and Sheinelle Jones that the worst recurring problem was not always bad design. It was cleanliness. She encountered dirty kitchens, bathroom carpet and spaces whose owners had apparently become completely nose-blind to what guests would smell the second they opened the door.

Her standard is not complicated: when people enter a rental, motel or hotel, the first question is whether it feels clean. Guests may be borrowing someone’s house, but they are still paying for the comfort and basic neutrality of a hospitality experience. They do not need a guided tour through the owner’s family photos, personal memories and household clutter.

Jones has her own rental trauma to support the argument. During one stay, she could not understand why flies kept appearing until she discovered a store dumpster sitting behind the gate. By the time the property representative arrived, both of them were swatting at the air while Jones made it clear that the insect situation needed to leave before she did.

That frustration is exactly why Roast My Rental works. Jones is not simply arriving to insult ugly curtains and leave. She understands why travelers choose vacation homes in the first place: they want to escape, spread out, cook if they feel like it and be more comfortable than they might be in a standard hotel room. The roast identifies what is failing; the renovation gives the owner a chance to fix it.

The interview also turned to Jones’ I’m Hot Tour, a title she explained as a triple meaning. She is hot, the jokes are hot and, thanks to menopause, she is also quite literally hot.

Jones said she moves so much during her physical stand-up set that the audience may not immediately know whether the sweat is coming from the performance or a hot flash. Eventually, she addresses menopause directly because the experience is too common—and too absurd—not to become material.

Her assessment of the female body was characteristically blunt: women are dealing with a factory that seems determined to malfunction in increasingly creative ways, leaving very little patience for anyone who decides to add one more problem to the shift.

That led to a proposal for a menopause-based legal defense in which a woman could simply tell the judge what happened and receive an immediate dismissal. More women judges may be required before the policy reaches full implementation.

Then TODAY made the bold decision to place actual objects from Studio 1A in front of Leslie Jones and ask her to roast them.

The fake flowers were first. Jones considered their cheapness offensive, their visible dirt almost philosophically confusing and the idea that similar artificial arrangements had once surrounded Oprah nothing short of disrespectful. Fake tomatoes received the same treatment because real tomatoes are too easy to obtain for the studio to be displaying shiny plastic substitutes.

The green-room bagels were next, and Jones could not understand how a New York television institution had managed to locate bread that looked so far removed from the city’s bagel reputation. She advised everyone not to eat them, rejected apologies from people who had not selected the food and kept moving.

By the time she reached the studio branding and a producer’s skinny corduroy outfit, the segment had become full crowd work. One employee learned in real time why audiences are warned against sitting in the front row at a comedy show. Jones, naturally, could have continued all day.

Leslie Jones Turns Studio 1A Into Her Next Roast

Fake flowers, fake tomatoes, questionable bagels and one unlucky outfit all entered the line of fire.

Leslie Jones applies her Roast My Rental instincts to the décor, food and people inside Studio 1A. Images courtesy of NBC.

Watch Leslie Jones On ‘Roast My Rental,’ Her Comedy Tour And Menopause

The full TODAY interview covers Jones’ rental red flags, her I’m Hot Tour, performing through hot flashes and the complete “Roast Our Studio” game.

Sources: TODAY; HGTV.