Two and a half years ago I stumbled upon a most interesting interview with the American blogger and humorist Evan J. Kessler. The subject managed to be charming and caustic all at once, whilst maintaining an air of sophistication and good humor throughout our time together. It was one of the best, if not the best interview I’ve ever had the pleasure of conducting. Not only did it teach me to be on my toes in terms of unexpected aggression, but it also showed me that the span of one conversation could be so wrought with peaks and valleys that it enlightened my own study of the human character– proving that it is indeed possible to display delightful rapier wit and be a conceited, insufferable bore in simultaneous fashion. Having suffered the slings and arrows of less bipolar interviews as of late, I felt as though my interviewing talents had slipped. I decided to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, to hone my craft as the world’s master inquisitor.
Evan Kessler was not an easy man to find this time around. He had forsaken the comfort of a cozy Brooklyn coffee shop for the distant shores of the Island of Cuervo Nation, a brutal dictatorship ruled with an iron fist by the promise of endless amounts of tequila and the mantra “what happens on the Island of Cuervo Nation…”
I had to grease the gears with that nation’s ambassador with the promise of body shots and a bag of limes just to locate Mr. Kessler; Nevermind what I had to do to get a visa.Finally, after a convoluted customs process where an official’s plant of a bottle of Patrón nearly got me deported, I was able to step foot on the white, sandy beaches and approach the front of the villa where I spied my interview subject. The fond memories of our previous exchange came flooding back to me like the kick from an irate mule. While his bulging manliness and virility were not as apparent throughout the course of this interview, the subject did manage to make frequent references to his impressive sportscar collection.
EVANKESSLER.COM: You’d never believe what I had to go through to find where you were.
Evan Kessler: I’m sure it was well worth it. I have a Porsche.
EK.com: I can’t imagine it comes in handy all that often. This entire island is lacking in basic infrastructure. I don’t see any roads.
EK: Well, where we’re going we don’t need roads.
EK.com: Where are we going?
EK: If I had my druthers we wouldn’t be going anywhere and you’d be drowning in the ocean.
EK.com: I’m actually a very good swimmer.
EK: So are sharks.
“I just don’t think we should rule out wolf semen as a viable option for the next biofuel frontier…”
EK.com: So what has Evan Kessler been up to for the past two and a half years?
EK: Well, Evan Kessler has been doing his part to make the world a better place, mostly with his global campaign to stop unnecessary ceiling fan mutilations. Far too often a tall person will be carrying someone on their shoulders and enter a room with a ceiling fan, resulting in severe lacerations and sometimes decapitation. We need to do our part to ensure that central air conditioning is present in every home throughout the world, or at least everyone has access to one of those plastic hand-held, battery-powered fans.
EK.com: But don’t children often cut up their tongues on those as well?
EK: We can’t afford to nitpick here. There’s a huge difference between children with cut up tongues and children and adults without heads. I’d like to think the importance of this issue is on par with the removal of landmines in Southeast Asia, but all of my attempted correspondence with Angelina Jolie seems to suggest otherwise. The People Against Continued Fan In Ceiling Mutilations or PACFICM (pronounced Pacifism) will press on in our attempts to make this an issue at the next U.N. Security Council Meeting.
“Ultimately, it was a question of face tattoo or no face tattoo?”
EK.com: Moving on…
EK: I’ll move on when you find something more important than ceiling fan mutilations, which will most certainly be never.
EK.com: Your hair has been described by some as splendorous jewfro, curl heaven, and a stylist’s wet dream.
EK: First off, I implore you to keep your genitalia as far away as possible from my hair. I’m assuming that last “stylist’s wet dream” bit came from you; you can always tell where the perversion is coming from. But I also gladly accept your praise upon my locks, couple all of those hair compliments with the fact that I own a Ferrari Testarossa and I become downright irresistible. I’ve been blessed by the hair god Peleos with the appropriate amount of curvature on each individual protein-laden strand and I couldn’t be more pleased. Still while the compliments you listed are wonderful in their own right they fail to encompass the greatness of that which rests atop my head and peaks out from under my skin in its attempt to take over other body parts.
“She was the most beautiful girl in the world. The fact that she was also a three-time National Laser Tag Champion was just gravy…”
EK.com: Have you ever been in love?
EK: I’m not wearing any underwear right now, if that’s what you mean. Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable, the pool sound alright?
At this point we took a brief stroll through the sand dunes into a lightly wooded area where a house with a pool appeared seemingly out of nowhere. We were seated and reassumed our interview position shortly thereafter.
EK.com: So have you ever been in love?
EK: Love is a four-letter word.
EK.com: Are you implying that the suggestion of finding love at this point in your life is a profane one?
EK: No, I’m merely pointing out that I have basic skills in both reading an mathematics that I sometimes use in concert to state the obvious. You have two legs, and most likely an asshole, but the two legs don’t characterize you as well as the asshole does. See, I’m doing it again.
“ I keep watching the trailer and for the life of me I still can’t figure out why or how the Smurfs would end up in New York City.”
EK.com: Were you hugged enough as a child?
EK: Hugged, no. Lovingly caressed, most definitely.
EK.com: When you die, how would you like to be remembered?
EK: When I die in 2031 from a fatal re-entry into the planet Earth, the result of shuttle sabotage carried out by a rogue confederate space agent, I will most definitely be remembered by the vast library of priceless reality show moments from my hit QVC dating series “7 Minutes with Evan.” However, I’d like to be remembered as the inspiration for the aptly-named town King of Prussia, Pennsylvania.
“…I believe in evolution, but I also believe that God created sheep to distract farmers...”
EK.com: Do you have royal lineage that you’ve yet to make us aware of?
EK: Well, I’m pretty sure I’m a few days away from being crowned the King of the Island of Cuervo Nation which I will then rename Prussia. So, I just want to let the kids out there know, there’s always a roundabout way to achieve your goals.
EK.com: That’s not exactly an inspiring thought.
EK: Fine, you want an inspirational soundbite. How’s this: “If at first you don’t achieve, make up your own rules and tell everyone you planned it that way all along.”
EK.com: I suppose that will convince someone to stay off drugs and succeed.
EK: Look, you want a role model go talk to one of the QBs in the Super Bowl. Me, I’m just a guy who watches the Super Bowl and roots for the team with the least amount of rapists.
EK.com: Well at least we know you’re on the right side of the law.
EK: Well, I wouldn’t say that. If you take a look at the mattresses in my house you’ll notice more than a few tags missing. That’s why I found my way to the Island of Cuervo Nation– always on the lam. But life is good here, there’s free health care.
EK.com: Really, the Island of Cuervo Nation engages in socialized medicine.
EK: Well, there’s a first-aid kit behind every bar and plenty of tequila to sterilize wounds.
“You may say ‘liverwurst’, but I say ‘liverbest’...”
EK.com: So do you see yourself going back to the United States anytime soon?
EK: Well that all depends on how things shake out. Me, I’m hoping to stay here for a while, meet a nice Cuervonese girl, get hitched during a traditional Island ceremony involving body shots and vomiting into the Caribbean (or whatever damned body of water this is) and have a few kick ass hot tub parties before moving back to the land of repression and honey.
EK.com: Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.
EK: I’ve got it figured out like a fat kid who loves cake hasn’t figured out he/she’s going to die of a coronary at a fairly young age. So, I guess I’ve got it figured out to a fairly high degree unless that kid’s parents are nutritionists and the he/she is just gorging on desserts to get back at them for some other form of mistreatment. In that case, I haven’t got a fucking clue.
EK.com: Right, well it’s been wonderful. I have to say it was fully worth tracking you down.
EK: I know.
EK.com: So, that’s it then?
EK: You’re the interviewer, it’s over when you’re out of questions.
EK.com: What do you think about Sa…
EK: No. I changed my mind. This interview’s over. I’m going to spend the rest of my day listening to satellite radio in my Lamborghini. I hope you find your way home either by plane or pine box, I’m outta here.