March 24, 2005

In Which I Am Interrogated

Despite the fact that blogger-on-blogger interviews seem to be all the rage these days - and you know how I hate to be trendy - I've decided to answer five of seven questions that Circa Bellum has put to me. Why? Why five out of seven? Why Circa Bellum? One, because I'm an attention-seeking whore, not unlike most of the rest of the participant bloggers (ha! ha!) and, well, it looked fun. Two, seeing as how this blog is all about a certain level of secrecy and anonymity, I was reluctant to pledge myself to answering just any old five questions. Circa Bellum gave me a selection to pick from. Why Circa Bellum? Because he's the kind of guy who'd give a squeamishly shy Queenie a selection to pick from. Oh, and because he tells a mean story.

Part of this whole deal is that I have to offer to interview the first five people who ask in my comments, who then in turn have to pledge to do the same. You know, like the old shampoo commercial? "And so on, and so on, and so on..." Well, I'm offering - but beware: I'm not as nice as dear Circa. If I pick through your archives, I'm out for meat.

Without further ado...

[CB] Since leaving the crappy, small apartment with the scary copulating neighbors, you’ve resorted to the internet for that sort of entertainment. What sort of porn sites do you look at when you’re surfin’ the nasty?

[QMcF] Oooh, I hate to lead with this question, because my answer is going to give you nothing but disappointment. The only time I see porn on the internet is when I open a mail from Catfish - who, by the way, runs the filthiest, most pussy-laden joke-of-the-day service on the internet. Run, don't walk, to get on his e-mail list. If you have broadband, that is. Some of his files are big enough to choke a goat.

Back to the topic at hand, though: perhaps I am yet to find the specific variety of porn that would appeal to a woman of my proclivities. Honestly, it just doesn't do it for me. Porn, that is. Look, I waited tables in a titty bar in my younger days. I was also, for a time, in a segment of the entertainment media industry that is rife with folks who have been in porn. I guess, having had these experiences, the people in most mainstream porn are just a little too real for me, therefore outside the realm of my fantasies - which are, by their very nature, idyllic. I've seen porn stars pick their noses. I've listened to them narrate too many life-dramas involving Jerry Springer and the DEA, I've heard them try to reason on things like the electoral college. In general? No, thank you. And I don't think I'd be interested in niche porn, not the internet variety, anyway. I have no bellybutton fetish. I do not wish to be fucked by a goat, nor do I rub stuffed animals on my private parts. Not that I'd ever seek to judge...

No, the fact that I eschew pornography for my own personal use should not be taken as a judgment on those adults who do enjoy it, nor should it be taken as any indication that I have anything other than a rich, erm, inner landscape of sensuality. Yeah.


[CB] We once touched on the notion that you have an interest in history. What era would you belong in if you weren’t in this one?

[QMcF] Aha! Good question! Yes, I have an immense interest in history, in how human reason is shaped through our understanding and knowledge - or lack thereof - of the past. Did you know that one of the things that made The Dark Ages so Dark, from a historiographical perspective, was the almost complete lack of any historical sense on the part of the populace? It's true - people just didn't think in terms of history, of precedents, of patterns that might repeat themselves. Primary source material from that era is just, like, devoid of what we would call historical references. People stayed where they were born, listened to their priest - or shaman, in some instances - and died, in droves, from simple things like tooth decay. Any popular historical transmission was oral, education dealt with languages, mathematics, and God, religion - the ascendant educational, scholarly, and artistic force at the time - was patently ignoring the sinful pagan past of ancient Greece and Rome, and Kings were Kings, conquering and killing and having parades, as kings are wont to do.

That's why the Renaissance has its name - new birth - a rediscovery of the humanities, a new willingness to explore human things, to admit that people and their history have value, even when held up against Heaven.

All that said - phew - I would not want to live in the Dark Ages. Moreover, I am so thank-you-God cognizant of my incredible luck to be born an American in an age of comfort and ease, happy that I'm in a place where my vagina does not automatically assign me to the status of chattel, that I would be reluctant to leave it. Besides, these are exciting times. Me, hot-tempered, all-girl Queenie, would have had her throat slit in most of the eras I can think of. Unless I were a Queen or something. Even so, I'd really, really miss antibiotics, and weed.

If I could be a man, though, and wealthy...make me an Englishman, any time between 1850 right up until about 1930. I think I'd have a flair for Empire.

[CB] You once stated that you would never blog about political stuff on this site, but 3 Terri Schiavo stories in a week? No offense, but when can we hear about more debauchery?

[QMcF] I know, I know! I'm kicking myself, too - totally out of character. Look, in "real life", Queenie is a highly political animal. I live and die for the shit. I read more news than Carter's has little Pills, and I have an opinion on everything. I started this blog to be all about my self - my apolitical self, my inner-sanctum self - but every once in a while, something leaks through. The Schiavo case is one such example. It's such a Big Fucking Deal - I mean, come on, these judicial processes have the potential to impact my life and the lives of those I love. Besides, I've written so many party-hearty posts that, every once in a while, I think it's useful to demonstrate that, no, my brain is not yet leaking out of my ears. Yet. Despite my best efforts, and a substantial bankroll for the project.

As for debauchery, baby?'ve come to the right place. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I have known some of the funniest, most fucked-up crazy people in this fair nation, and I have a ton of stories. BUT - and this is a big but - you may or may not have noticed that I have been extremely depressed since I lost my job. It's not rational, no, but there are details about the situation that I simply cannot reveal here, and frankly, it's hard to write fun stories when you want to pull the covers over your head and never come out.

I'm getting better, though. Can't you tell?

[CB] You mentioned a snippet about your second temptation into the lesbian scene in Los Angeles. Said it was a story for another night. Well, us guys love a little hot girl-on-girl action. What night will you tell it?

[QMcF] Oh, I don't know. I suspect I'll get around to it sometime. It wasn't super hot, though the action was girl-on-girl. For a few weeks, a month, I actually had a girlfriend. I will tell you this: she was lovely, nubile, not of my race, and dumb as a box of hammers. With an IQ to match. It was a voyage of self-discovery, leading me to uncover the deep, hidden truth that I am a sucker for a pretty face. And, as I found, a boring, vanilla-flavored heterosexual.

I think perhaps I detect an urge for some schadenfreude, sir? You know it ended badly...

[CB] Some of us aren’t smart enough to figure out your alter blog identities. Since we already know about the wild side, would you tell us where we can read the other ones? If we swear not to tell?

[QMcF] Sure I will. All of my blog alter-egos are available on the internet, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. think this is my wild side? Sheesh!

Thank you, Circa Bellum, for giving me a good reason to write a post about something I know very well - the inside of my head. And remember, I'll take the first five that bite on the return interview...if any dare...mwahahahah...

Posted by Queenie at March 24, 2005 10:59 PM

Queenie, I love it, when you talk dirty to me, love, Cat.

Posted by: catfish at March 25, 2005 12:56 AM

.. great answers.. Pierre Woodman is the man, though...

Posted by: Eric at March 25, 2005 07:44 AM

I can't believe you never told me about your other girlfriend...

Posted by: Key at March 25, 2005 03:23 PM

What about the girl-on-girl action at the Tap?

Posted by: Velociman at March 25, 2005 04:41 PM

V-Man, I left that stuff out in respect for Kelley. I love her, but even she admits she's funny about stuff like that...on the internet, at any rate.

Posted by: Queenie at March 25, 2005 06:04 PM

The problem with porn is that it just isn't really made with women in mind. Even lesbian porn.

At any rate, I think I'm going to take the plunge: I'll be brave. Interview me.

Posted by: Samira at March 25, 2005 09:28 PM
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