Posts Tagged ‘interview’

My interview with Peter Graves

Sunday, March 14th, 2010

"Mission: Impossible" and "Airplane!" star Peter Graves was found dead last night at the age of 83 under mysterious circumstances, and as one of the preeminent journalists who has a picture of themselves eating ice cream with Hitler, I was invited to interview him:

Me: Hi Peter, thanks for meeting with me.

PG: (in a whisper) I am not Peter. I'm on a top-secret mission and my name is Dyed. Howie Dyed.

Me: Well, I'm here to interview Peter Graves and I wanted to find out how he died.

PG: Yes?

Me: Oh, I see what you did there. Two can play that game. Have you ever been in a Turkish prison, Peter?

PG: I told you, Peter's not here.

Me: But he-

PG: Oh, Buddy's been in a Turkish prison.

Me: Sigh. And he's the same as Peter Graves?

PG: Andy? No, Andy has nothing to do with Peter Graves.

Me: Now I'm confused how he-

PG: Yes?

Me: Okay. I want to talk to Peter. Will he-

PG: Willy's in the other room.

Me: Oh. My. God. I want to punch you so f-

PG: Yusuf? That's our target. Have you seen him?

Me: That didn't even sound like the same thing! Now I know you're just fucking with me.

PG: King Withme is Yusuf's boss. Whose side are you on?

Me: Youon isn't here right now.

PG: Don't be a moron.


Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead (mostly) celebrity (mostly) interviews:

Corey Haim
My Grandmother
Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My interview with my recently deceased grandmother

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

Nana (pictured here with Uncle Saddam)

My grandmother, pictured above with her second favorite dictator, passed away Friday night. This is the same grandmother I've written about previously. She was suffering from the late stages of Alzheimer's, and her death, while sad, was merciful.

Eileen was the oldest of 15 children. She raised many of her younger brothers and sisters as if they were her own children, and supported many of them, paying for college and other expenses, just like a parent. She was the matriarch to the Irish Catholic side of my family. By the time I knew her, she was the very strict, serious, older lady that you didn't dare disappoint. She was very religious, never swore, was fair to each grandchild to a fault, and disapproved of fully half of anything that a child would do. This isn't to say that she didn't love – she cared deeper than she showed, and loved everyone equally and unconditionally. But you sure as fuck didn't want to do anything to disappoint her. "You had better hope that your Nana doesn't hear about this!" was a familiar mantra heard around my home. Today, I got the chance to interview her posthumously which means, thankfully, that her mental state had returned to how she used to be. (NOTE: The following is a PARODY and in no way reflects my actual grandmother, who was about as close to a saint as you could possibly be.)

Me: Hi Nana.

Nana: Hi dear.

Me: I'm sorry you're not here anymore. I miss you.

Nana: Is that why you only visited me once when I was in the home?

Me: It was too hard to see you like that. And I didn't think you'd really want any of us to see you in that state.

Nana: So does this mean you're skipping my funeral too?

Me: If it wasn't to be there for Mom and Papa, I wouldn't go to that, either.

Nana: And what's this I hear about you getting a divorce?

Me: Ohhh, ummm, yeah.

Nana: You know you're going to hell, right?

Me: For getting a divorce? That's not fair.

Nana: No, not for the divorce – that's just what you get for living in sin before you got married.

Me: Then why?

Nana: Because I can see everything now – and there is no way God is letting you into heaven with all of that porn you look at.

Me: You can see THAT?!?

Nana: Yes, and you should be ashamed of yourself. If I wasn't already dead, finding out that there's something called "tranny porn" would have killed me on the spot. And then how would you have liked finding out that you killed your poor grandmother?

Me: But I didn't! And that was just for research purposes.

Nana: You need a hand down your pants to research?

Me: I . . Uh . . Um . . .

Nana: I'm just fucking with you.

Me: NANA!!!

Nana: What? Can't a woman drop an f-bomb on you?

Me: Not when you're my Nana, and I've never even heard you say "hell"!

Nana: I usually reserved that type of language for the bedroom.

Me: Oh God.

Nana: You don't want to hear about me and your grandfather having sex? You do know that your mother wasn't immaculately conceived, even if she's convinced you she was, right?

Me: No no no no no no (rocking back and forth)

Nana: I used to joke that your Papa's name was destined to be Howie . . .

Me: Please stop (crying)

Nana: . . . as in "how he makes me feel down there"

Me: shh shh shh shh no shhh shh

Nana: And by "down there", I mean my vagina.

Me: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…..


Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead (mostly) celebrity (mostly) interviews:

Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My Interview with John Lennon

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

On the 29th anniversary of John Lennon's death, I thought I'd take the time to interview him:

Me: So, I'm sitting here with John Lennon, one of the Fab Four. Thanks for taking the time to speak with me, John.

JL: Well, it's like, there's not much to do here, you know, so I've got the time, man.

Me: Now, is it true that you were actually kind of a douchebag?

JL: What?

Me: Well, you got some weird Asian midget pregnant while you were married but tried to claim your wife was the adulterous one.

JL: Oh, well, see, it's like, man, a different world back then and we were all about free love and, you know, peace.

Me: Do you think that Yoko Ono was good for you?

JL: Yes, man, she was brilliant, absolutely brilliant! Did you know that she created this fantastic piece of art where the every man could walk into the gallery, see, and, you know, take a hammer and bang! bang! bang! hammer nails into a board. It blew my fuckin' mind.

Me: But wasn't she a primary reason that your band broke up?

JL: Well, you know, it was time. It wasn't a great disaster, and, like, with all the hate and anger and bad energy in the world, you know, this is just a rock group that split up. It's nothing important.

Me: Well, many people out there think that The Beatles are the greatest band in history. I'm not one of them, though. Personally, I don't like your music that much and prefer The Rolling Stones instead.

JL: And I'd prefer to punch you in the fucking nose.

Me: Whoa. What happened to the hippie relaxed almost to the level of idiocy?

JL: That's all an act. All that "we're selling peace" and "we're bigger than Jesus" shit was just propaganda created by our handlers.

Me: Handlers?

JL: Yup. See, we didn't actually find each other organically. We were hired by promoters who wanted to compete with Elvis in the States. They hired us, trained us, changed our names, and made us famous. My real name was Hubert Kronsweigel.

Me: I also notice that you don't have a British accent anymore.

JL: Of course not – are you slow? I'm actually from Philly.

Me: So, then what happened with Yoko? Was that real or a facade?

JL: That was real. I got too big for my britches and thought that I was untouchable. They showed me.

Me: Are you implying that the people who manufactured The Beatles had you killed?

JL: It's true. Mark David Chapman was actually in training to become the next Meat Loaf when they tapped him to kill me.

Me: I'm finding this hard to believe. Are you high right now?

JL: Well, yes. But that's beside the point. The music industry runs the world! They can make you go crazy, like Britney or Whitney Houston. They can ruin your reputation as a teen heartthrob by outing you, like they did with Lance Bass and Justin Timberlake.

Me: Justin's not gay or out of the closet!

JL: Yet.

Me: And I bet that they also killed Tupac and Biggie Smalls.

JL: And Aaliyah and the Big Bopper and John Denver and Kurt Cobain and Left Eye Lopes and Michael Jackson.

Me: Wow, my mind has officially been blown.

JL: It's what I do. Now do you have any final questions before I go find something salty to munch on?

Me: Yeah. What was the last thing that went through your mind before you died?

JL: A bullet, man. A bullet.

Me: But you were shot in the back, not the head.

JL: Was I, man? Was I?


Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead (mostly) celebrity (mostly) interviews:

Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

The answers to life

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

Earlier this week, in an exhibition of complete and utter creative laziness, I asked for questions that I would answer. Some of you heard my cry for help and came running. And now I provide you with the fruits plucked as you enabled my inability to come up with anything to post on my own:

Bluepaintred asked: Did your blog theme change? How long has that weird white outline been here?

Blue, that's a change I was required to add to my blog for all Canadian visitors. English speaking Canadians see just a white border but the French speaking ones see a blank page that tells them to go eat cheese and drink wine.

Dave2 asked: What's the theme for next year's Halloween party?

Rabies. Or "The Horror of Papercuts!" We haven't decided yet.

Andria asked: When potty-training a boy, what do I teach him to do with his weenie? Do you shake it? Flick it? Dab it with toilet paper?! I'm so confused here. I don't want to screw him up. Also, is calling it a "weenie" potentially messing him up too?!

I usually just move my hips like a hula hoop. Sure, this might get a little splashback around the bathroom, but it's fun. And it's better to call it "horse cock" for self esteem issues.

Zoeyjane asked: If you had to pick a new blog wife because Britt had a torrid blog affair with Father Muskrat, whose hand would you take in blogtrimony?

This is an easy question. I would host a reality show called "The Great Avitable Blog Wife Showdown" and would pit fourteen BILFs against each other to compete for the title of my blog wife. In the end, the winner would be the one with the biggest tits readership.

Shauna asked: My left arm itches. Can you tell me why?

Shauna, when you spend half your day with your arm in a bull's ass, stimulating his prostate for semen collection, you should expect that you might get a little bit of a rash. I'd recommend using your right arm for a while.

Grant asked: Why does your template not remember my e-mail address from my home PC using Firefox when everyone else's is fine? 2nd question – why don't you get rid of that sodding twitter Follow me thingy that makes me scroll up and down so I can read the text it covers?

Maybe my template isn't saving cookies properly – I plan on doing a new template at some point in the near future. And what resolution do you have your damn computer set at to have that Twitter plugin affecting the screen real estate? I think you should get a bigger monitor.

Sheila asked: What would the world do without kind, compassionate, caring people like you?

Um, hello? I crotchpunch nuns and hate babies. You must have me confused with another Avitable.

Finn asked: What would you say is the most interesting thing about you?

I really don't know. I have good stories?

BE Earl asked: There is one picture on your sidebar that you could explain for me. It looks like something or other is on your chest and you may or may not have any arms. What is going on with that pic? It eludes me.

That's this picture. It's my Halloween costume from three years ago, when I was Steve Irwin with a stingray attached to my chest.

Howard asked: We all know the Mayan calendar is a circle so it's just going to start over not be the end of time, so what will be the downfall of planet Earth?

Ninjas.

Psychobabble asked: If you were turned into a lesbian by a magical unicorn, and the only other lesbians in the world were Rosie O'Donell and Ellen Degeneres, who would you make sweet love to? (Your hand is not an option)

Will the world really end in 2012? If so, will it be aliens, humans or nature that takes us out?

How many licks does it REALLY take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop?

1. Totally Ellen. She's cute and funny. 2. See my answer above. 3. Ask Ellen.

Sybil asked: Where in the hell is my one black shirt; the v – neck sweater? I've looked and looked, and I cannot find it!

Your husband is wearing it under his clothes, along with one of your bras.

CP asked: When in a sexual relationship with a man, would you be the top or the bottom? And, would a reach around be involved at any point?

Can I be the side? And reacharounds are standard practice on the third date.

Sunny asked: Where's your favorite place to get lunch in town (let's say Altamonte over Maitland), and how do you feel about meeting random non-famous bloggers (outside of Halloween) who only know where you live because of a return address on a picture of a large box posted in a really cool Canadian chick's blog?

I'm a fan of Chili's or TGI Friday's and I am always up for a blogger meetup!

Sandi asked: If you could live anywhere in the world where would you live?

What would you pick for your last meal if you were on death row?

If you had your own tv talk show who would you pick to be your first guest and what would you like to ask them about?

1. Los Angeles. I loved it there.

2. Filet mignon, Oscar style, medium rare, mashed potatoes, chocolate lava cake.

3. I'd pick Weird Al Yankovic. The man is a genius.

Poppy asked: Why'd you change the orientation of your desk in your office?

I needed to make more room and get rid of an extra desk that was already in here. Plus, I needed to park my car in here.

Nadine asked: What do you believe happens after death?

I believe that zombies need to be shot in the head or chopped up into little bits if they're going to stay down.

Faiqa asked: When are you going to finally admit that you feel intellectually and, let's face it, generally inferior to me? I just want to know, so I can prepare myself in advance… humility doesn't come easy and I'm going to need a few days to practice.

But my superiority over you was the last thread keeping me from realizing that suicide is my only way out. Gee, thanks.

Laurie asked: Also, can we get an update on the state of your facial hair growth?

The beard is back!

Picture-290

Hilly asked: What was your nickname in high school and why?
Also, what is the craziest thing you would do for a Klondike bar (in a world where "Klondike Bar" means "thing you want most in this world, like Michael J. Fox's semen or whatever")?

1. I didn't have a nickname in high school. I was just Adam back then. That was before I became the All Powerful Avitable in college and law school. That's right – have I mentioned that I went to law school?

2. Oh, for Michael J. Fox's semen? I'd sneak out of my second story apartment window and run across the rooftops and run away from an angry dog just so I could get a Diet Coke for my hot female neighbor. Wait, what?

Thanks to everyone who asked questions!

The funniest book I've read all year

Monday, November 16th, 2009

Mercury Falls, by Rob Kroese

Mercury Falls, by Rob Kroese

Mercury Falls is the first book by blogger, cat fancier, and penis mightier Robert "Diddletits" Kroese. I originally bought this book directly from Amazon out of pity. Here was this blogger with a sometimes marginally amusing, sometimes hilarious, and always anal retentive and didactic blog who had managed to string together 300-rough pages of words and self-publish it, and he was pushing it and offering blowjobs, teen Thai hookers, and giant-sized chocolate bars for anyone who would even consider purchasing it (full FTC disclosure – I paid full price for the book but received a thirty-second blowjob and some chocolate).

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I started reading. There was a chance that it would have a flawed narrative, poorly realized protagonist, and cardboard characters who follow every cliche in el libro. I gritted my teeth, dropped my pants, sat on the the throne, and started reading.

Mercury Falls is the funniest fucking book I've read all year. Imagine a world in which Douglas Adams and Chuck Palahniuk met in a bar in Los Angeles, where they drank gin-filled fizzy lifting drinks culminating in a passionate night of unprotected assfucking. This tumultuous evening resulted in the birth of a baby girl, beautiful in spite of her harelip. Eighteen years later, this girl drinks Carl Hiaasen under the table in the very same bar, and takes him home where she sticks a cattle prod in his ass and fucks him crazy. The baby that comes from this unholy hilarious union is Rob Kroese, and his destiny is to write this book.

I found this book to be clever and funny without feeling forced. It flowed nicely, had well-rounded characters that avoided triteness, and told a fun, intelligent story. It's difficult to write smart humor without sounding either pretentious or hackneyed, and Kroese manages to pull it off almost flawlessly. While there were only a few parts that made me laugh vocally, I found myself chuckling and smiling as I enjoyed his turns of a phrase and intelligent prose.

I give this book my full and complete recommendation. Go over to MercuryFalls.net and purchase a copy today. Support a new author, get away from the Internet for 300 plus pages, and enjoy a finely written, clever tome. That's right – I said tome. That means I'm fancy and know what I'm talking about!

And now, for your reading pleasure, an interview with the author himself:

AVITABLE: Which of these three angel-themed movies influenced you the most? Angels in the Outfield, Almost an Angel, Charlie's Angels.

KROESE: I think all three of those films have had such an influence on so many writers, it's difficult to say which one was the most important. I mean, just the other day I was hanging out with Chuck Palahniuk and Cormac McCarthy at Jack in the Box, and Corm couldn't stop talking about the irony of "the guy from Down Under working for the Man Upstairs" in Almost an Angel. Finally Chuck just beat the crap out of him. I mean, you don't disrespect Cameron Diaz in front of Chuck Palahniuk. And I was like, guys, if you're talking angel movies, nobody can touch Christopher Lloyd in Angels in the Outfield. We finally had to settle the matter by eating some peyote brownies and playing Russian roulette. Funny story, actually, because it turns out we were playing Russian roulette with a halibut. Anyhoo, Cormac McCarthy is dead.

AVITABLE: Who would win in a fight between an angel and a werewolf? A werewolf and a vampire? The Thing or The Hulk?

KROESE: We all win, Adam. Except for with the Hulk one, because everybody knows that The Thing is yellow.

AVITABLE: Do you find that it's easier to write before or after a big meal? A nap? Killing a hooker?

KROESE: The writing process, for me, goes like this: hooker, nap, write, big meal, nap, hooker, hooker, nap. Mercury Falls took me 3 years to write, mostly because I forgot to do the writing part for the first 2 1/2.

AVITABLE: Have you ever had panties thrown at you during a book signing? Do you want me to throw mine?

KROESE: My mother actually showed up at the last one and threw some underwear at me. It was my dad's. I'm still trying to sort that one out.

AVITABLE: If you had one piece of advice for a struggling author, what would it be, in Pig Latin?

KROESE: On'tday ebay ootay oudpray otay oday ateverwhay ouyay eednay otay oday otay ellsay ooksbay, evenway ifway itway eansmay answeringway asinineway estionsquay.

AVITABLE: Which one of your characters would be the most likely to maintain a blog and what type of blog would it be?

KROESE: Well, setting aside the narrator, Ederatz, I'd have to say Perp the cherub. Perp loves giving unsolicited advice to strangers, which is totally what the Internet is all about.

AVITABLE: Have you ever been in a Turkish prison?

KROESE: Yes, but only as a tourist. I love the part of the tour where they hang you upside down by your jigglies.

AVITABLE: Do you know where I put my wallet?

KROESE: No, and I'd rather you didn't tell me.

AVITABLE: Is it sacrilegious for an angel to eat deviled eggs or devil's food cake?

KROESE: Hey, if Catholics can eat Jesus every week, I think we can give the angels a break on this one.

AVITABLE: If your book was turned into a film, who could you see playing each role?

KROESE: Somebody recently suggested Alan Tudyk, who played Wash on Firefly, for Mercury. The only problem is that I think Alan Tudyk is contractually obligated to die in all of his roles, and Mercury is an angel, so that's going to be a problem. He does get blown up at one point though, so maybe that counts. As for Christine, the female protagonist, I'd like to see Zoe Deschanel or Rachel McAdams, because they're both cute as buttons. Barring those choices, I was thinking it would be good to get the whole cast of Glee involved, if only so we can get production on that show shut down for a few months. )

And there you have it. Regardless of his obvious poor choice in maligning Glee, one of the best shows on TV today, I still recommend buying his book immediately, albeit slightly more reluctantly now.

My Interview with Patrick Swayze

Tuesday, September 15th, 2009

Yesterday, Patrick Swayze lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. Today, as usual, I score the only posthumous interview to be found. Take that, real journalists!

Me: So, um, Patrick, thanks for being here.

PS: You sound hesitant, chile'.

Me: Well, you're in blackface and have a wig with dreadlocks on.

PS: It's the only way I can communicate with you. I'm being channeled into the body of Oda Mae Brown.

Me: There's no need to do that. I have the ability to interview people after they die for one final interview.

PS: Oh. Well, uh, do you want to play some Righteous Brothers and make some pottery?

Me: Gay much?

PS: Fine. Ask your damn questions.

Me: I watched Black Dog in theaters. Can I have my $5.50 back?

PS: Ha, very funny.

Me: Well, I'm kind of serious, but really – why did you make such shitty movies, over all?

PS: No, no. Look, you've gotta understand what it's like, man. You come from the streets and suddenly you're up here, and these producers, they are throwing money at ya, and it smells so good, and they really take care of you. I mean, I never knew producers could be like that, you know? And they're so rich, they're so goddamn rich, you think they must know about everything. And they're slipping their scripts in my hands, two and three times day, different producers. So, here I think I'm scoring big, right? And for a while, you think, hey, they wouldn't be doing this if they didn't care about me, right?

Me: I understand. You were just using them, that's all.

PS: No, no that's not it. That's the thing, man, see it wasn't like that. They were using me.

Me: But honestly? Does that excuse Father Hood? Three Wishes? Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights?

PS: Look, spaghetti arms. That is my movie space. This is your blog space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.

Me: That doesn't even make any sense.

PS: Nobody puts Adam in a corner.

Me: Now I know that you're just quoting lines from one of the three decent movies you've starred in. Why can't you just answer me honestly?

PS: I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.

Me: Oh, come on! That one wasn't even your line!

PS: Fine. I'll stop quoting movie lines. I'll tell you my secret.

Me: Go ahead.

PS: I can't really act. I have three expressions: surprised, angry, and tightly intense. After that, I just dance or kick or run really fast, and then they cut to another scene.

Me: Yeah, I figured. I've seen a lot of your movies, even the shitty ones. You should have stuck with that ballet gig.

PS: Yeah, but then I never would have met my wife.

Me: Wait, you're straight? No way!

PS: Of course I am!

Me: You like women?

PS: I was married to one for thirty years!

Me: Hm. I just assumed the whole sex appeal to women thing was an act, like Tom Cruise, Ryan Seacrest, and George Clooney.

PS: Nope. I am a veritable pussy magnet.

Me: Now you're trying too hard to sound macho.

PS: I carried a watermelon.

Me: And we're back to the movie quotes. You're a waste of my fucking time.

PS: Yeah, I guess that's what you *would* see. I'll never be sorry, Baby.

Me: Jesus. Move on already – go to heaven or hell or the giant ballet academy in the sky. I'm done with you.

PS: Ditto.

Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead celebrity interviews:

Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My interview with Robert Novak from Crossfire

Wednesday, August 19th, 2009
Robert Novak. Or a bulldog.

Robert Novak. Or a bulldog.

Conservative political commentator Robert Novak died yesterday at the age of 78, and I had the pleasure of sitting down with him shortly after his demise (And thanks to Swan Shadow for the idea).

Me: So is it true?

RN: Is what true?

Me: That you're the Prince of Darkness?

RN: Well, that was just an affectionate nickname given to me by an old friend. I even used it as my book title.

Me: So you admit it? You're Satan?

RN: No, not at all. First of all, no horns.

Me: Maybe you've had them sawed off.

RN: Secondly, no tail.

Me: I don't know that. You're sitting down.

RN: Finally, wouldn't I look like a devil – be all red and fiery or something?

Me: Aha! You ARE the devil – that's exactly what he would say to fool me!

RN: Young man, I'm getting a bit offended by your tone. I am a God-fearing Catholic man, and this notion that I am somehow an incarnation of Lucifer himself is insulting and blasphemous.

Me: Okay, let's try another tack. How would you describe Satan?

RN: How would I describe him? Well, the Prince of Lies. The great deceiver. Twisting facts, distorting reality, and turning man against man.

Me: So would you say that a person who presents him- or herself one way but is in reality completely different would be a pretty damn good deceiver?

RN: Yes.

Me: And would you say that a person who selectively discusses facts to fit his or her political agenda, inciting a flame of partisanship, would be twisting facts?

RN: Absolutely.

Me: And yet, as a very conservative political commentator who was in fact a registered Democrat who inflated stories and ignored the objective truth to stir up controversy, you don't think you meet those definitions to a "T"?

RN: Of course not, and I resent your line of questioning. If you actually did your research, you might have discovered that many Republicans actually had a problem with some of my views, as well.

Me: So you admit that you deceive everyone then?

RN: Wha- No!

Me: Okay, different approach. Do you remember your old Democratic nemesis?

RN: James Carville?

Me: Yup. And his initials are?

RN: Oh, give me a fucking break. I am not Satan!

Me: You sowed chaos by outing Valerie Plame along with many of her CIA colleagues. You're a Jewish man who supports Palestine over Israel. You lied about your political leanings in order to drive man against man. Your own friends call you the Prince of Darkness, and your nemesis was JC. How can you look at these facts and deny the truth?

RN: This sham of an interview is over.

Me: But, Bobby, don't dodge the ques-

RN: (turns, faces me, eyes glowing red, while fire circles him like a halo and growls gutturally) I SAID IT'S OVER.

Me: (my shorts turn dark from urine) *gulp* Okay. Um, thanks for the interview?

Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead celebrity interviews:

John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My Interview with John Hughes

Tuesday, August 11th, 2009

As most of you know, John Hughes died on Thursday. Known as a recluse in life, he's not much different in death, and it took me a few days to snag this exclusive posthumous interview with him:

Me: Thanks for joining me, John.

JH: No problem. Glad to be here, man. I mean, you had to shackle me to this chair to interview me, but that's okay.

Me: Sorry about the restraints, but you're so elusive to interview! It's okay, though. I am your number one fan. There is nothing to worry about.

JH: That's cool. It's always nice to meet a fan.

Me: My favorite movie of yours has to be Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I've seen it a hundred times if I've seen it once.

JH: That one was a lot of fun to write.

Me: Why didn't you ever make a sequel?

JH: What?

Me: I mean, with a movie that popular, don't you think that you should have capitalized on it?

JH: Nah, man. I told my story. Ferris had his day off, lessons were learned, people grew. It was done.

Me: I've always had this dream of a sequel, though.

JH: Nothing I can do about it now, dude.

Me: Just imagine it being 20 years later. Ferris Bueller is a corporate drone and a single dad. Cameron is a radio talkshow host dating a different woman each week, and Sloane is a wealthy single socialite. He decides that it was such a nice day that he couldn't go to work, so he takes a day off of work, sneaks his son out of school (where Principal Rooney is still in charge) and goes for an adventure with his oldest friends. You could call it "Ferris Bueller Calls In Sick". Hm? Hm?

JH: That sounds like complete and utter claptrap.

Me: Well, it would be claptrap. Unless you wrote it. Because if you wrote it and infused it with the same humor, gravitas and character development as the original, it would be the best sequel ever. After Aliens, The Godfather Part II, and Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. And Empire Strikes Back.

JH: It would only work if Matthew Broderick, Alan Ruck, Mia Sara, and Jeffrey Jones came back.

Me: Well, of course, and how could they stay away if you wrote a high caliber script?

JH: It doesn't matter. I'm dead. Sorry. And now I'm depressed. Interview's over, man.

Me: Um, no it's not. I have better plans for you. I am going to help you write a new script.

JH: You think I can just whip one out?

Me: Oh, but I don't think John, I know. Now let's not be a dirty birdy and start writing, hm? Don't make me motivate you and make everything all oogy!

JH: I am not. Writing. A. Fucking. Sequel.

Me: Oh, John. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way now, won't we?

JH: Oh Jesus. Put down the sledgehammer! I'll write, I'll write! ARARARRRGGGHHHH!! My knee!!!

Me: Do you feel more motivated now or do I have to bring out Mr. Ax?

JH: (sobbing) No, I'll write it. I'll write your sequel.

Me: Oh yay! Ferris is going to live again. Happy day happy day!

Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead celebrity interviews:

Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My interview with Walter Cronkite

Monday, July 20th, 2009

Walter Cronkite, one of the most respected journalists of our time, died on Friday night at the age of 92. I spoke with him posthumously on Sunday:

Me: Thank you for speaking with me, Walter.

WC: Young man, it is my pleasure.

Me: I'm very honored that I'm getting the chance to interview you. Since you are a veteran journalist, would you mind if I made this interview a fast-paced, hard hitting affair?

WC: (chuckles) Not at all. Please feel free to fire away.

Me: Oh, chuckle at me, will you, old man? First, here's a softball question. You retired from the CBS Evening News almost thirty years ago. Would you say that broadcast journalism has flourished or floundered after your absence?

WC: The corporatization of television journalism has ruined it. No longer can the people have someone they can trust to deliver unbiased news, and this saddens me greatly.

Me: Now, is it true that Adolf Hitler modeled his mustache after yours?

WC: Where did you hear that?

Me: So you admit that it's true?

WC: (sputters) No! I would like to know what unreliable sources you're using for such spurious accusations.

Me: I read it on a blog somewhere.

WC: Don't get me started about blogging. Blogs are going to be the death of journalism because every mom with a sleeping baby can churn out 500 words of her uneducated opinion and uninformed people will take it as fact.

Me: Plus, bloggers make up random shit like interviews with famous people who have died, too.

WC: Exactly.

Me: Did we just break the fourth wall?

WC: I'm not sure. I know that I just broke wind, though.

Me: Dude, did you eat limburger? Fuuck.

WC: Young man, do not call me "Dude". You can call me "Uncle Walter", "Walter", "Mr. Cronkite", or "Senor Mustache Ride", but that's only if you're under 19, Puerto Rican, and have an ass I can bounce a quarter off of.

Me: Well, now we're getting off track. Let's stick to the interview, fishlips. It is said that the term "anchor" was coined because of your role as a broadcast journalist.

WC: Yes, that's right.

Me: Why'd they come up with anchor? Why a nautical term? Why not "starboard"? Plank? Mast? Poop Deck?

WC: So you would have the gall to suggest that I would call myself a Television Poop Deck Man? Are you addled in the head?

Me: Hey, I'm not the one with Hitler's moustache who's named after a barnacle-encrusted rusty implement designed to stop a ship!

WC: This interview is over.

Me: Wait, one last thing.

WC: (sighs) Fine.

Me: My Canadian brother from another mother, LeSombre, turns another year older today. He told me that you are his biological father.

WC: I am absolutely not!

Me: He swears that you are his father. That you impregnated his mother during an orgy in the early 70s. That you, David Brinkley and Chen Huntley triple-teamed her.

WC: I swear that you have the ethics of an amoral snake-oil salesman.

Me: So you won't wish your illegitimate son a happy birthday?

WC: I most certainly will not! And may you rot in hell! (storms off)

Me: And that's the way it is.

Enjoy this interview? Check out my other dead celebrity interviews:

Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My interview with Michael Jackson, the King of Pop

Friday, June 26th, 2009

Michael Jackson, self-proclaimed king of pop, self-proclaimed black man, self-denied child molester, died yesterday at the age of 50. Since Avitable.com is the official place for the newly deceased to provide their first posthumous interviews, MJ granted me some time late last night. However, he was a bit reluctant, so I had to resort to some trickery and a guest star to make the interview happen.

MJ: Hello?

Me: (hiding in the back) Hi! I'll be right out!

MJ: Oh, okay. I brought the stuff you asked. (holds up brown bag)

Me: Okay, great. I can't wait! Have a seat and I'll be right there.

MJ: (sits down) Do you want me to open the wine?

Me: Okay!

The door opens.

MJ: Who are you?

CH: Hi, Michael, or should I say, KingCherryPopper1978? My name is Chris Hansen.

MJ: You protect all of the beautiful children of the world!

CH: I wish it were that simple. We actually work very hard here on "To Catch a Predator" to catch child molesters and sexual predators before they act.

MJ: Whee! (claps his hands) Who are you after today?

CH: Well, Michael, why did you come here today? Was it to have sex with Decoyvitable, who you thought was a 13-year old boy? (I come out and take over the interview)

MJ: I would never do such a thing. I love all of the world's children, especially the ill ones because I can give them a place to come visit and give them medicine.

Me: But didn't you say in your chat, "I want to "Beat It" and "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough" while you "Give In To Me" "In the Closet" until we "Come Together"?" This is a direct quote from your chat.

MJ: That's all being taken in the worst possible light. I like to sit sick children on my knee and sing my old songs to them, and if you are a mean ol' adult, you might misunderstand something.

Me: But you also say "I want you to "Remember the Time" that we had a "Thriller" and "Just a Little Bit of You" touched "Another Part of Me" until either of us "Scream"."

MJ: Once again, you're taking my conversation out of context.

Me: Okay, maybe for those, but then there's this line: "I want to play with your little boy cock." Did you want to, Michael? To play with his little boy cock?

MJ: Oh no no no. I have my very own. I just wanted to lay with him in bed and tell stories and talk about girls and listen to music and touch his butthole and maybe have a pillow fight and . . .

Me: Wait. What did you just say?

MJ: "Have a pillow fight?"

Me: No, before that.

MJ: "Listen to music?"

Me: After that.

MJ: "Have a pillow fight?"

Me: No, before that, but after the "Listen to music" part.

MJ: "and"?

Me: Sigh. You said you wanted to touch his butthole. Does that sound innocent to you?

MJ: It is innocent. I've always wanted to have a place where I could create everything that I never had as a child. And that place is a child's butthole.

Me: Let's move on. Do you think that your music is enough of a contribution to the world at large that your depravity should have been given a free pass?

MJ: I'm getting tired of these insults and hard questions. You are all sick people. I'm leaving.

Me: I wouldn't do that.

MJ runs away with the police chasing after him. The police yell at Michael Jackson to stand down. He turns and faces them, with one knee slightly cocked, arms extended at his sides. He flips his head to the right and the left with lightning speed, extends his arm, arches his pelvis and we hear a loud "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" A huge wind blows the police officers over. Michael begins to walk slowly for the exit. One remaining officer pulls out his taser gun and shoots it at Michael. It hits him square in the forehead, and he falls to the ground, quietly saying "who's bad? oh billie jean" before drifting off into unconsciousness.

As a special bonus, here is my two question interview with the recently deceased Farrah Fawcett! (Apologies to MAD Magazine)

Me: Did you have any trouble finding the interview location?

FF: (giggles distractedly) No, not at all.

Me: Would you like some coffee?

FF: Yes, that would be great.

Me: Thank you for taking part in our two-question interview!

Enjoy this interview? Check out my other interviews:

Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.