a queen mob’s exclusive interview!!
Rolling with canoes, count me in?
Not many people don’t know that I got my start in stripping. My stage name in Mexico was “Guillermo El Magnifico.” I’d been helping out on the bright set of the Night of the Iguana (and yes I’m one of those guys who waited on Liz “La Cruda Belleza” Taylor and chased the iguanas all hot around thru the trees and down on to the beach. And, Yes, they taste like Chicken. Old tired chickens.) And then someone exclaimed “he’d be great in outer space,” and I went into a dream and that was the end of my stripping.
Are you most proud of Star Trek: The Animated Series?
Jerk Iguana’s quite incredible. But I like Jerk Anything. Like Socrates on his burning nuts I am so bored with life. I mean I’ve done everything (and named my price on 4 star motels!) from Spun Whales to Crippled Chihuahas (Bang, Bang– I once noodled with Val Kilmer, before he got old and fat. Ba ha ha ha ha ha ha. Burpppppppppp). Yeah, sigh, I have seen it all. I grew a pirate’s beard once electrified my body like Walt Whitman in a pile of burning leaves. My books, and my boobs, are as strict and severe, though, as Emily Dickinson. I am not a bot!!
Why do you love getting the last word in?
A big orange God-Lizard has earned “In Spades” the rites to the best, tightest sun. And the German tourists in their black socks (all of them named Olaf and Olga) point and paint in their sexy gutturals: Monster! Monster! And I parade the whole damned show around through sexy alien hailing landscapes on the backs of very ordinary donkeys. Goose down pillows. Mmmmmmm. I dreamed I was Jack the tap-tap Rapper on the bridge. Maybe it’s time. Star Trek, yo, was a hotbed and cesspool of diversity. I am sadder than the harvest moon.
Wait, was T. J. Hooker a documentary?
I grew up in a cow town. My dad was Mr. Tough-Guy cop. A real ball breaker. My uncle even more son. My grandpa spanked and then shot Jesse James. One of my forebears bodyguarded Frederick Douglas on his fundraising and Kilt buying tour of Scotland. I once gave birth, you know, to a billion tribbles. The lambs in the sea all dance for me! A few of those tribbles are inside me still. They bleat their hair back into the chop wave soup. And I’m all in blue again hair resplendent on a motorbike. Can ya dig??
Would Spock be in a play what I wrote?
Spork was the love of my lief. So human and so alien. So generous and erotic. Quixotic and exotic. Except, mind you, he would never mind-meld with me as we had sex. Said it was too much like doing drugs and that was a cosmic road he’d never trip down. One time I saw him throwing a few sheep on Facebook. He was in the garden and he was holding a dog. And he ignored me completely. His teeth still beat with some residue of lust. “What are you gonna do,” he was singing, “when they come for you???”
There was a faint scent of urine. I was wild with desire.
William Shatner is, among other things, a real popcorn flavor.