PV: Yo, Big, what's going down on the street?
BB: Same crap, different day. Oscar is complaining, Bert and Ernie are hanging out in the closet and Count Von Count is into his usual OCD routine. I need to get out of here, man. It's been decades with this same exact gig. My agent doesn't know what the hell he's doing.
PV: So you're ready to move on, huh? I always thought you'd be a Sesame Street lifer. You always looked like you were having such a good time.
BB: It's acting, baby. My craft. I'm into the whole method thing. Live it, breathe it, experience it and sell it to your audience. It's all a lie, my whole public image. I've been in and out of depression for 15 years now. My performance evaluations are always miserable, and the raises the tight-assed management gives out are comically small. We need to at least unionize or something.
PV: I'd vote Cookie Monster as your union treasurer.
BB: Yeah, right. I wouldn't trust that gluttonous fool around loose cash. You think cookies are the only things he can't stop consuming? You should see the guy when he goes off on benders of Scotch, hashish and prostitutes in Amsterdam. It's incredible that lifestyle of his hasn't driven him into the grave.
PV: Cookie Monster's a drug and whore addict? I'd never have known! Next thing you'll tell me is Snuffleupagus is a Scientologist!
BB: Snuff ain't real, bro. Ever wonder why I'm the only one who can see him? It's a total LSD flashback, I guess. The whole Haight-Ashbury scene during the psychadelic area really led me astray.
PV: Wow, I never figured you for an acid dropper.
BB: I did some wild stuff back in the day. You don't even wanna know. So many women.
PV: You slept with actual woman? Gross.
BB: No, I mean female birds, friend. Tons of 'em. Partridges, parakeets, storks, even an ostrich every once in a while.
PV: Ostriches, huh?
BB: Yeah, it's so hot when they stick their faces in the dirt, all bent over. Oh, man.
PV: You're disgusting.
BB: Nothing's disgusting about free love, man. We were gonna change the world. No war, no politics, and material things didn't mean a thing.
PV: And now look at you. You've completely sold out all your ideals. You're nothing but a corporate shill who complains he's not paid enough. Where did you go wrong?
BB: I don't know, man. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of all that I held dear, and now I'm just some letter jockey. Today's letter is F. For forlorn.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Interview: Alvin
PV: How's the chipmunk rock star treating you, Alvin?
A: I just got out of rehab and I'm trying to get my life back together. I'm thinking of getting back with the band for a reunion tour. Or maybe it's time for a solo project.
PV: Rehab? I never knew!
A: Yeah, all those years of touring really took their toll. I lost sight of what was really important, you know? The stress of the road forced me to turn to hookers and drugs, and it really sapped away my creativity.
PV: No offense, but all the songs you and the Chipmunks made were covers, weren't they? So having your creativity sapped away couldn't have hurt you that much.
A: I resent that remark. Do you know how much skill it takes to sing fast, high-pitched versions of classic rock songs? It's harder than it looks, man. I'd like to see you do it. You could never fill my shoes. You're nothing but a rock journalist sapping off my stardom so you can make your money scribbling stupid little rants in your monthly rag. And besides, we did come up with one song of our own - the intro to the TV show.
PV: First off, I'm not a rock journalist. But I think I remember the song you're talking about. The one that went "Alvin, Simon, Theodore! Doo-doo. Do-do-do-do!" Right? Sorry I overlooked that classic.
A: Apology not accepted due to your sarcasm.
PV: Let's just leave the subject behind and move on then. What was the situation with Dave, your manager? Was he your adoptive father?
A: Dave was an asshole. Ever see that TV miniseries "The Jacksons?" Our lives were exactly like that - Dave was Joe Jackson. First off he took us from our woodland home, then forced us to learn English. As if that wasn't weird and unnatural enough, he also made us form a cover band, and was obsessed with making us big stars. He worked us so hard. We'd do 11 hour practice sessions without a break. He wouldn't even let us pee or eat. Theodore was a big eater, you know, and he would show up to rehearsals with nuts buried in his cheeks. Dave would catch him in the act and pimp slap the nuts right out of his mouth. He was cruel, man. So cruel.
PV: At least you had the Chipettes to tour with, right? That had to have lifted the burden. I always thought it was amazing how there happened to be a female singing chipmunk trio, and they were exactly like you: Brittany, the smartass leader who was a female version of you; Jeanette, the awkward, lanky dork and Eleanor, the fat-assed malcontent who always screwed things up like Theodore.
A: Yeah, really lucky. The bitches wouldn't put out at all.
PV: That amazes me. Brittany always seemed slutty to me.
A: A total acorn tease, dude. I don't even wanna get into it.
PV: That's too bad, you guys could have had some incredibly talented children.
A: Brother, I don't even know how many children I have out there. There were so many groupies, so many orgies and one-night stands. And I'm sure I don't even remember the half of it. I never even wore a condom.
PV: Gross.
A: You're just jealous.
PV: I would have been jealous if you got to have sex with Brittany. I was totally into her when I was 5. But no, Alvin. I just pity you.
A: Get out of my house.
PV: I'm not in your house. We're talking on the phone.
A: Oh yeah. I just hallucinated that you were here because of an acid flashback.
A: I just got out of rehab and I'm trying to get my life back together. I'm thinking of getting back with the band for a reunion tour. Or maybe it's time for a solo project.
PV: Rehab? I never knew!
A: Yeah, all those years of touring really took their toll. I lost sight of what was really important, you know? The stress of the road forced me to turn to hookers and drugs, and it really sapped away my creativity.
PV: No offense, but all the songs you and the Chipmunks made were covers, weren't they? So having your creativity sapped away couldn't have hurt you that much.
A: I resent that remark. Do you know how much skill it takes to sing fast, high-pitched versions of classic rock songs? It's harder than it looks, man. I'd like to see you do it. You could never fill my shoes. You're nothing but a rock journalist sapping off my stardom so you can make your money scribbling stupid little rants in your monthly rag. And besides, we did come up with one song of our own - the intro to the TV show.
PV: First off, I'm not a rock journalist. But I think I remember the song you're talking about. The one that went "Alvin, Simon, Theodore! Doo-doo. Do-do-do-do!" Right? Sorry I overlooked that classic.
A: Apology not accepted due to your sarcasm.
PV: Let's just leave the subject behind and move on then. What was the situation with Dave, your manager? Was he your adoptive father?
A: Dave was an asshole. Ever see that TV miniseries "The Jacksons?" Our lives were exactly like that - Dave was Joe Jackson. First off he took us from our woodland home, then forced us to learn English. As if that wasn't weird and unnatural enough, he also made us form a cover band, and was obsessed with making us big stars. He worked us so hard. We'd do 11 hour practice sessions without a break. He wouldn't even let us pee or eat. Theodore was a big eater, you know, and he would show up to rehearsals with nuts buried in his cheeks. Dave would catch him in the act and pimp slap the nuts right out of his mouth. He was cruel, man. So cruel.
PV: At least you had the Chipettes to tour with, right? That had to have lifted the burden. I always thought it was amazing how there happened to be a female singing chipmunk trio, and they were exactly like you: Brittany, the smartass leader who was a female version of you; Jeanette, the awkward, lanky dork and Eleanor, the fat-assed malcontent who always screwed things up like Theodore.
A: Yeah, really lucky. The bitches wouldn't put out at all.
PV: That amazes me. Brittany always seemed slutty to me.
A: A total acorn tease, dude. I don't even wanna get into it.
PV: That's too bad, you guys could have had some incredibly talented children.
A: Brother, I don't even know how many children I have out there. There were so many groupies, so many orgies and one-night stands. And I'm sure I don't even remember the half of it. I never even wore a condom.
PV: Gross.
A: You're just jealous.
PV: I would have been jealous if you got to have sex with Brittany. I was totally into her when I was 5. But no, Alvin. I just pity you.
A: Get out of my house.
PV: I'm not in your house. We're talking on the phone.
A: Oh yeah. I just hallucinated that you were here because of an acid flashback.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Interview: Smokey the Bear
PV: Hey there, Smokey. How is the fire prevention going?
STB: It like, totally sucks bro. I was listening to Phish last night and smoking a bowl, tryin' to come to terms with the eternal parabolic dimensions of light and dark, smoke and fire. You know what I mean?
PV: I haven't the slightest clue. Hey, what's that smell, and why are your eyes bloodshot and glazed over? Why, Smokey, are you high?
STB: Guilty as charged, Maynard. Want some?
PV: Of course not! I've never smoked in my life and besides, I'm on the job! You should be ashamed of yourself. You're supposed to be a role model for children?
STB: You're totally talking like the man, always trying to keep a brotha down. Ain't nobody a role model. Parents should be role models, man. Check yoself. Before you reck yoself. Ahahahahaha!
PV: Get ahold of yourself, Smokey. I've got a tape recorder here. This will probably end up on the news and ruin your reputation like that time Alec Baldwin called his kid a "thoughtless little pig."
STB: Hey, whatever happens happens, ya know? How do you think I got the name "Smokey" in the first place, man? I was always weed crazy. I'd smoke anything man. Pinecones, whatever. The Forest Service shouldn't a never hired me if they needed a mascot who wasn't gonna stop tokin.' Hey, "tokin'" sounds like "token," right? Like what the change machines at Golf 'N Stuff give you instead of quarters. Trippy!
PV: Will you pull yourself together? Don't you realize who you are and what you represent?
STB: Hey, I've got no responsibility. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. Hahahahaha.
PV: Ah, your catch phrase. How does that make any sense, by the way? How's a 12 year old going to prevent a forest fire?
STB: To be honest, by remembering to put out his joints before he falls asleep on camping trips. Man, I forgot to do that a couple years ago up on Mount Lemmon near Tucson. Boy, that was a big mistake.
PV: What? It was you who caused that calamity that made national news? But I thought they convicted someone of starting that fire!
STB: It was all a cover up. The suits weren't gonna let the public face of fire prevention take the fall. It's totally a conspiracy, man. Like Area 52 and...
PV: Wait, did you say "Area 52?" Don't you mean Area 51?
STB: Nah, man. Area 51 is the one the media industrial complex wants you to talk about so you don't find out about Area 52. They keep JFK's head there and Elvis and robot-Hitler are poker buddies. You wouldn't believe... And also.... zzzzzzzz...
PV: Dammit, Smokey! You forgot to put out your joint before you fell asleep. Hmm. Maybe I'll try some of this for myself.
STB: It like, totally sucks bro. I was listening to Phish last night and smoking a bowl, tryin' to come to terms with the eternal parabolic dimensions of light and dark, smoke and fire. You know what I mean?
PV: I haven't the slightest clue. Hey, what's that smell, and why are your eyes bloodshot and glazed over? Why, Smokey, are you high?
STB: Guilty as charged, Maynard. Want some?
PV: Of course not! I've never smoked in my life and besides, I'm on the job! You should be ashamed of yourself. You're supposed to be a role model for children?
STB: You're totally talking like the man, always trying to keep a brotha down. Ain't nobody a role model. Parents should be role models, man. Check yoself. Before you reck yoself. Ahahahahaha!
PV: Get ahold of yourself, Smokey. I've got a tape recorder here. This will probably end up on the news and ruin your reputation like that time Alec Baldwin called his kid a "thoughtless little pig."
STB: Hey, whatever happens happens, ya know? How do you think I got the name "Smokey" in the first place, man? I was always weed crazy. I'd smoke anything man. Pinecones, whatever. The Forest Service shouldn't a never hired me if they needed a mascot who wasn't gonna stop tokin.' Hey, "tokin'" sounds like "token," right? Like what the change machines at Golf 'N Stuff give you instead of quarters. Trippy!
PV: Will you pull yourself together? Don't you realize who you are and what you represent?
STB: Hey, I've got no responsibility. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. Hahahahaha.
PV: Ah, your catch phrase. How does that make any sense, by the way? How's a 12 year old going to prevent a forest fire?
STB: To be honest, by remembering to put out his joints before he falls asleep on camping trips. Man, I forgot to do that a couple years ago up on Mount Lemmon near Tucson. Boy, that was a big mistake.
PV: What? It was you who caused that calamity that made national news? But I thought they convicted someone of starting that fire!
STB: It was all a cover up. The suits weren't gonna let the public face of fire prevention take the fall. It's totally a conspiracy, man. Like Area 52 and...
PV: Wait, did you say "Area 52?" Don't you mean Area 51?
STB: Nah, man. Area 51 is the one the media industrial complex wants you to talk about so you don't find out about Area 52. They keep JFK's head there and Elvis and robot-Hitler are poker buddies. You wouldn't believe... And also.... zzzzzzzz...
PV: Dammit, Smokey! You forgot to put out your joint before you fell asleep. Hmm. Maybe I'll try some of this for myself.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Interview: Lion-O
PV: Thanks for sitting down with me, Lion-O. I must say you're still looking good after all these years.
LO: Thunder! Thunder! Thunder! Thundercats, Ho!
PV: Come again?
LO: Oh, sorry. I'm on my hands free here, calling out a Thundercats raid against that rascally Safari Joe. didn't realize you had started talking.
PV: Too cool. Who's on the line? Snarf? Cheetara? Tygra?
LO: Um, ah, someone else.
PV: Who?
LO: (Sighs). Uh, 1-800-555-TELL.
PV: Huh. I knew you could get stock quotes, sports scores and movie times on that hotline, but I didn't realize you could call Thundercats defense raids!
LO: Well, um, yeah. You totally... uh...
PV: Lion-O! I'm on to you. Come clean, you're really just pretending to call out Thundercats defense raids, aren't you now.
LO: Yeah. The thing is, I'm just sad and lonely. The other Thundercats don't return my calls anymore.
PV: Why?
LO: It all stems from a Christmas paty back in '87. You know how it goes. I had one too many drinks and all of a sudden I'm telling racist jokes, coughing up hairballs and my tail is up Pumyra's skirt. Suddenly I'm a pariah with no friends who can't find a job anywhere across the galaxy from from Thundera to Third Earth.
PV: You could always go work for Mumm-Ra. He was always trying to tempt you to join him and rule Third Earth as your first lieutenant.
LO: I'm aghast at the suggestion. Never would I join the forces of evil.
PV: Admit it, Lion-O. You applied and couldn't get an interview, right?
LO: Yeah.
PV: Lion-O, you're an alcoholic, aren't you?
LO: No, I rarely drink, actually. But I am an addict.
PV: Crack? Heroine? Guitar Hero II?
LO: Thundercatnip.
PV: How cliche.
LO: I know. I'm ashamed. But my life isn't a total loss, right? At the height of my fame I inspired young boys like you to become great, honorable contributors to society! Surely that must count for something.
PV: Dude, I'm an entertainment writer who makes up imaginary interviews with cartoon superheroes. I contribute nothing to society.
LO: I think I'll go kill myself now.
LO: Thunder! Thunder! Thunder! Thundercats, Ho!
PV: Come again?
LO: Oh, sorry. I'm on my hands free here, calling out a Thundercats raid against that rascally Safari Joe. didn't realize you had started talking.
PV: Too cool. Who's on the line? Snarf? Cheetara? Tygra?
LO: Um, ah, someone else.
PV: Who?
LO: (Sighs). Uh, 1-800-555-TELL.
PV: Huh. I knew you could get stock quotes, sports scores and movie times on that hotline, but I didn't realize you could call Thundercats defense raids!
LO: Well, um, yeah. You totally... uh...
PV: Lion-O! I'm on to you. Come clean, you're really just pretending to call out Thundercats defense raids, aren't you now.
LO: Yeah. The thing is, I'm just sad and lonely. The other Thundercats don't return my calls anymore.
PV: Why?
LO: It all stems from a Christmas paty back in '87. You know how it goes. I had one too many drinks and all of a sudden I'm telling racist jokes, coughing up hairballs and my tail is up Pumyra's skirt. Suddenly I'm a pariah with no friends who can't find a job anywhere across the galaxy from from Thundera to Third Earth.
PV: You could always go work for Mumm-Ra. He was always trying to tempt you to join him and rule Third Earth as your first lieutenant.
LO: I'm aghast at the suggestion. Never would I join the forces of evil.
PV: Admit it, Lion-O. You applied and couldn't get an interview, right?
LO: Yeah.
PV: Lion-O, you're an alcoholic, aren't you?
LO: No, I rarely drink, actually. But I am an addict.
PV: Crack? Heroine? Guitar Hero II?
LO: Thundercatnip.
PV: How cliche.
LO: I know. I'm ashamed. But my life isn't a total loss, right? At the height of my fame I inspired young boys like you to become great, honorable contributors to society! Surely that must count for something.
PV: Dude, I'm an entertainment writer who makes up imaginary interviews with cartoon superheroes. I contribute nothing to society.
LO: I think I'll go kill myself now.
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