Esquire Lives

originally published January 4, 2004:

Imagine our surprise at finding that Esquire did not, in fact, evaporate into an inert gas sometime in the late 90s as is commonly thought among the chattering classes. No, it actually is still being published. Not only that, true believer, but the January 2004 issue is pretty yummy indeed. It drinks, like The Corsair, deep from the cup of wit, partaking liberally from its libations. In their What I've Learned section, they manage all manner of fun from everyone including that Sir Edmund Hillary of social climbers, Lynda Carter, who went from being a middle calibre piece of ass to, dare we say it, a "Wonder Woman" to the trophy wife of a genuine pasty pink aging Washington power player. You go, grrrl (averted gaze). Aging Hollywood swordsman Jack Nicholson ("ah, grasshopper ..."), who Lara Flynn Boyle likes to call "chief," also makes an appearance in Eskie (It is rumored --I'm not kidding here -- that when she dated David Spade, her nickname for him was "peanut"). Here's what Wonder Woman had to say:

"This modeling agency I'd gone to was putting on the Miss USA contest. Why would I want to run around in a bathing suit? But my mother and sister talked me into it. Three weeks later, I was Miss USA. Didn't even sing. There was no talent: it was all tits and ass."

Well, to each our strong points. And Jack Black and Kyle Gass turn out this little chestnut:

Kyle: Who we'd like to meet? Jesus.
Jack: You should say I instead of we. I think Jesus would be a big fuckin letdown. You'd find out he's just a dude. He might be a real boring hang. He might be a really kick ass rabbi. You'd want to know the answer to everything and he'd say, 'How should I know? I'm just Jesus.' Plus you don't know how to speak ancient Aramaic. I say, let's go back to see someone who for sure kicked ass. Let's go fucking chat it up with Plato.
Kyle: Talk about a language barrier. You're not gonna be knowin any of the Greek. I'd like to meet Hitler when he was an artist in Austria. Hang with him. I used to dream about this. I fantasized that I went to art school with the Beatles ...
Jack: Dude, you better finish up that fuckin Hitler thought. You left it on a really wierd note.
Kyle: Oh! I would just be checking Hitler out. Telling him, maybe you should stick with the painting."

Esquire, the gift that keeps on giving.