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Monday, May 03, 2004

Eventually, She Did Eat The Banana

Mean Girls Rules the world. $25 million in opening box office? We're going to go out on a limb and guess that the crowds were evenly divided: half teeny-boppers out at the mall for a little girl time, and half middle-aged men that would be occupying the Pee Wee Herman Commemorative Cell if the ushers had a better flashlight budget.

The real story in all of this is Tina Fey. She's really taking the sexy-librarian-in-horn-rimmed-glasses thing to a delicious extreme. We hear that she wasn't quite ready to light the sex-bomb fuse back in her days at Second City in Chicago, but now that she's on-camera talent and the hottest writer of the moment, she's definitely ready to sweep the books off of the reference desk and show us the Dewey decimal codes for unbridled passion. Not that a writer would ever want to indulge in something like that. We sat down with this emerging facet of Fey's personality and had a chat.

An Interview With Tina Fey's Supposedly Reluctant Sex Symbol Status

Bunsen: Everyone knows Tina was the first female head writer of Saturday Night Live.

TFSRSSS: She's just one of the guys at SNL, really. As likely to burp, fart, or very innocently twist a lock of our her while looking over the top of her glasses, enjoying the taste of a pencil eraser against the tip of her tongue as anyone else.

Bunsen: It seems you've really taken to being on camera. It's really bringing your aspect of the personality to the forefront.

TFSRSSS: I'm still very, very shy when there's a camera around. I do it because I love it. It's all about the work, not the attention. Writing will always be my first love.

[She reaches into her purse and produces a banana.]

Bunsen: Why are you licking that banana?

TFSRSSS: This thing? What? I'm peeling it. I'm going to have a snack. You lick it and it's easier to peel.

Bunsen: You're running your tongue up and down it and winking at me.

TFSRSSS: Something got in my eye. Why are you watching me? It's really making me self-conscious.

[She unbuttons two buttons on her blouse.]

TFSRSSS: Sorry, I get hot when I'm self-conscious because someone's potentially objectifying me.

Bunsen: Any offers from Playboy yet?

TFSRSSS: Playboy? Why? There's not enough ink in their airbrushes to turn us into one of those fake-bazoomed blondes. Look here. [She unbuttons another button, then presses her breasts together to make her cleavage more pronounced.] See? These are not nearly big enough for Playboy.

Bunsen: Now that you're tracing the edge of the cleavage with the banana, I see what you mean.

TFSRSSS: Thank you. Jesus, me in Playboy. I have half a mind to put on some panties underneath this schoolgirl skirt and storm out of here.

About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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