Are you crazy?
You’ll have to be more specific. Crazy exists on a spectrum of severity. Do you mean overtly crazy in the sense that I would bite off another man’s ear or River Dance on Oprah’s couch because I’m banging Katie Holmes? Or a more subtle crazy like paying a 19-year-old Korean $300 to stomp cockroaches in high heels while I put my dick in a toaster? If I had to pick I’d say I’m closer to the latter. I can admit my brain works on a different plane than most (I sing We Got the Beat to my dog as I get ready for work each morning) but I’m cognizant enough to not let it bleed into my public life. Mostly by never talking in the company of someone who can arrest or fire me, or set wheels in motion that end in either.
Do you seriously hire hookers?
I have never paid to sleep with anyone unless the $35 vial of Rohipnol I keep in my cutlery drawer counts. I got a lot of mileage out of that baby. I’m sure a couple of streetwalkers have snuck through over times as my vetting process at 22 years consisted of no more than “is she under 200 lbs and over 17”. And even then didn’t adhere to it too stringently.
Aren’t you worried about employers reading this?
I can’t imagine any chain of circumstance that would lead a 55-year-old executive to a blog devoted to bad movie reviews and strange man’s desire to drink Kim Kardashian‘s bath water.
Why did you start this site?
I started it after watching several episodes back-to-back of Paris Hilton’s My New BFF during a period I was having difficulty selling my television show pitch. On came the most odorous pile of trash in the history of television and I watched it , seething, wondering how this got greenlit while I made photocopies of well logs for 37.5 hours a week. The self-loathing hit a boiling point and I wrote the most offensive, abusive review I’ve ever put to page. My rage quenched, I took a hiatus before starting back up to, in a roundabout, confusing way to convince my then-girlfriend that I was a changed man.
Why is everything you write so…angry?
Depression. Frustration. Misery. Take your pick. Ok, that’s not entirely true. I’m a much happier person than comes off from my posts. I’ve always said the adage “I’m only keeping it real” is the sociopath’s credo, but, in a sense, it applies to me while I’m writing. I believe there is value in incivility and politically incorrect statements. There’s a line, of course, that I try not to cross but if I think Barack Obama is snake that used a vague, catchy slogan to rope ignorant blacks and guilty whites into voting for him, I’ll say it like it comes to me, instead of dressing it up in a non-offensive way.
If you could fight one man, dead or alive, who would it be?