Tuesday, July 01, 2008

An interview with Poppy Buxom

Remember when that guy (whose name I can't remember) started this thing where everyone who commented was going to interview the next person who commented?

Well, Jessica at daysgoby drew me. About five million years ago. She very kindly emailed me her interview questions, whereupon I very promptly wadded her email up and stuffed it down at the bottom of my Gmail inbox where it languishes to this day, because I just remembered it.

But I will find it. And I will answer her questions.

But when I do, I'll send my answers to her, to post on her blog. So that will be her post, not mine.

My post was supposed to be the person who commented after me.

Well, it turns out that person is a woman in Chicago who has kids, blogs in several different venues, and runs her own on-line business. I thought we would have a lot in common, but as I checked out her blog, it turns out that her business happens to be home parties where sex toys are sold. And I don't know about you, but honestly, that particular detail of her life kind of overshadows everything else. I like to think that I'm not particularly prurient, but somehow, I can't think of any good questions to ask her. That business of hers becomes the elephant in the room. The battery-powered elephant-shaped dildo in the room. With a vibrating trunk.

And so, because I need to post today, and because I've decided that the internet is like a vast virtual paper shredder of new ideas, where an idea really once did belong to someone, but now it's out there to be sliced and diced and used as packing material for something else (does this make any sense at all?) I'm going to interview myself.

By stealing the questions that Leah Peah asked Sweetney. OK?

Let's get on with it, then.

Blog Birthday:

I started The Opiate of the Masses in August, 2004, but I've been tormenting the internet since 1993 via usenet groups like alt.tv.mst3k and alt.fashion.

Why do you blog?

I love to write, but I'm not particularly creative. I mean, I'm not going to start drafting a screenplay any time soon.

Basically, I find myself incredibly interesting. If I couldn't blog, I'd be following people around like Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, blathering away until their ears ran blood. On the internet, I'm much easier to ignore. And if you don't believe me, check out my stats.

What do you talk about?

Myself and why I find myself ludicrous. Also various assorted rants on other people's bad taste and rotten manners.

What don’t you talk about? Why?

My sex life, my husband's sex life (naturally, I'm assuming these are the same thing) my husband's job, people I know in real life, my family.

I do use pseudonyms, but at this point, it's mostly through force of habit. I don't see any real reason not to blog under my real name, I just don't see any real reason to change.

Worst/best experience re: something you wrote in your blog or put out on the net?

I think the funniest (which to me equals best) was when I was participating in a Bloggy Giveaway. I was giving away a Little Debbie Snack Cakes Barbie. Well, Jen Lancaster read my entry, called Susie Sunshine up, and then basically blogged their telephone conversation. Jen wanted the Little Debbie Snack Cakes Barbie, and Susie Sunshine told her she couldn't enter my giveaway because it wasn't fair.

The next thing I knew, literally hundreds of women were entering my giveaway, many of them swearing that if they won, they would give the Barbie to Jen.

My hits went through the roof. The comments became more and more impassioned. Even though I mentioned several times that this drawing was going to be random, these women were pleading for the chance to give Jen her Barbie.

I now know what it's like to be God. So many prayers; so few Little Debbie Snack Cake Barbies.

Favorite/worst thing about living where you live?

I live in a suburb of Chicago that I call Newtopia. It's lovely and green and peaceful and it has an excellent public school system, blah blah blah. My favorite thing about it is getting into my not very impressive car, backing out of the jerry-built garage attached to the back of my teardown, rolling down my cracked asphalt driveway, and cruising around getting a vicarious thrill out of other people's money. OMG their houses! Their gardens!

Frankly, I'm surprised anyone in this town will speak to me.

The worst thing? Well, 99.99 percent white, crime-free, "exclusive" suburbs with excellent public schools don't tend to rank very high on the hip, sophisticated, trendy, or edgy scale.

I mean, sadly enough, by virtue of the fact that I blog, I might very well be the trendiest thing in town.

If you were president of the US:

I'm pretty sure I would stop announcing to all and sundry that I have no idea WTF is going on.

What actor would play you in the movie of your life?

Julia Roberts. But I'm very sorry to have to admit that she would have to pull a Robert de Niro and eat her way up several dress sizes. And then a few more.

Favorite color:

Red. I'm a scarlet woman. Albeit a scarlet woman who is too embarrassed to interview a woman who makes her living selling s-e-x t-o-y-s.

Favorite food:

I like food that is full-flavored and uses high-quality fresh ingredients. I don't care whether it's scallops ceviche or collard greens simmered with ham hock with some corn bread to sop up the pot likker. Just keep the canned cream of mushroom soup far, far away from me. (I actually have a moribund blog, Horrifying Foodstuffs, where I make fun of food like that.)

When you were 10, what did you want to do when you grew up?

I wanted to be a backup singer for Ike and Tina Turner. Yes! I wanted to be an Ikette. This teaches you three things about me: I'm old, and I'm self-deluded, because I'm white.

What do you hate?

Selfishness. Deliberate unkindness. Rudeness. Excessive amounts of swearing (but I get to decide what's excessive. If I say it? It's justified. If it comes out of the mouth of one of my children? It's not only excessive, it calls for punitive measures.)

What do you love?

Anything funny.

What do you want to tell other bloggers, if anything?

Be generous. Leave comments; link to people; email people. You'll make someone's day.

Astounding facts about you:

I've never had morning sickness.

Are you Windows or Mac? Why?

Mac. Since 1985. I joined the dark side only once, for a 17-inch HP laptop that crapped out on me after less than a year.

Do you have a mantra?

No. I'm an Episcopalian. We don't really grok that whole mantra thing.

Who are your heroes?

Phyllis Diller, Roseanne, Aline Kominsky-Crumb, and Margaret Cho.

How would your husband/family/friends describe you?

Funny, smart, bumptious, busty, annoying, musical, self-deprecating, idiotic.

What are you working on right now?

Other than busting my ass at the gym? Getting a new template and advertising for Mamarazzi. I don't want it to go over-the-top commercial, but I'd like it to pay for itself.

What do you do to stay sane and keep healthy?

I have a lot of ways to fend off depression, which is the black dog that follows me wherever I go (unlike, say, every other blogger on the face of the earth.) So I work out. I try to get outside in the fresh air whenever I can--especially in the summer, because sunshine is key. Gardening is good. Decluttering this damned tear-down. And then telling the whole internet about it.


  1. Holy God! I had forgotten ALL ABOUT THAT!

    Were the questions I sent you any good? Because I can't remember.....

    And I can't remember if I ever had an interview, either. I think that was one of those great bloggy ideas that...fell apart.


  2. Now I feel the urge to buy some s-e-x -t-o-y-s and blog about them, just to make you blush.

  3. What? No link?
    I read through that whole thing and there's no sex-toy link?

  4. "Anything funny." I'm with you on that one.

  5. you fucking rule. the end.

  6. Julia Roberts, hey? Well, I'd like to know who'd play your husband in the movie.



    p.s. I agree. You effing rule.

  7. ...the guy who I don't remember...

    Yeah, that did a lot for my self-esteem!

  8. OK, which one of you guys ratted me out to Neil! Now I'm even more embarrassed than I was when I thought about asking that woman questions like "So, do your children know what you do for a living?" and "What kind of a guarantee do you provide-if the customer isn't completely satisfied, do you accept returns?"

  9. My guess is that as cool and wonderful as you are, Neil reads you on a regular basis, and you outed your-own-bad-self.

    I loved you before, but it went to a new level when I read your answer about being the president.


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.