By Hillel Aron
By Joseph Tsidulko
By Patrick Range McDonald
By David Futch
By Hillel Aron
By Dennis Romero
By Jill Stewart
By Dennis Romero
THURSDAY, MAY 28
MOLLY PRATHER: FUCK, MARRY, KILL
Molly Prather recently brought us her one-woman show That Girl, not to be confused with the Marlo Thomas series of the late ’60s (she’s probably too young to remember it, anyway). Now she’s back with Fuck, Marry, Kill, “a collection of unfortunately true stories that will make you feel better about all your crazy exes.”
L.A. WEEKLY: Prather — what kind of name is that?
MOLLY PRATHER: A last one — I’m still single and haven’t had to change it for the man of my dreams.
Who do people say you look like?
Monica Lewinsky (sad emoticon).
You were a bartender for eight years. Did you ever finish other people’s drinks? Ever kick someone out?
I’ve finished people’s drinks in a “You’re a pussy, I’m not” sort of way. But never in a sad, sneaky “I just can’t get enough” sort of way. I’ve kicked many the overhydrated jack-hole out of my bar. It’s one of the best parts of being a bartender — when someone is being a completely unreasonable, intolerable jackass, you can make them leave. You don’t get to do that if you work at Starbucks.
At the bar I work at on Hollywood Boulevard, I recently kicked Superman and Elvis out for trying to pull a hustle on one of my customers. I felt all-powerful.
You moved here from New York — are we really less intellectual?
My friend Sean Conroy says it best: “I love living in Los Angeles. I love being able to walk around and never having to worry about being outwitted.”
What do you hate most about living here? What do you love?
That it’s not New York.
Fuck, Marry, Kill is a game popular with Howard Stern and his cronies. Are you really that shallow?
Wait — am I shallow because I listen to Howard Stern, or because I put everyone of the opposite sex into one of three categories?
Easy. Fuck Tracy Morgan because he’s black and most likely has an enormous penis. (Don’t gasp. You set me up for that one.) Marry Stern — I’ve always had a thing for funny, Jewy guys. Kill Mick Jagger — he’s a bit too Crypt Keeper for my delicate palate.
Tell us about the show. What can we expect?
It’s like HBO’s Cathouse meets The Notebook. Without giving too much away — there’s a crack house, the guy I almost married who used to be my boss, a CAA agent, a trip to Europe, Frankenstein, the lead in Frankenstein: The Rock Musical, a guy who likes to dress up like animals and have sex, and me.
Who is your comedy idol?
Brett Butler, hands down. Totes Brill.
What do you actually do for a living?
Bartend (why stop now?), write fitness videos for D-list celebrities, and appear on The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson as assorted loose women.
Why is your comedy important?
I like that you said “your comedy” — that makes me feel very fancy. Listen, I’m the girl who looks back at pretty much every moment of my 20s saying to myself, “What the fuck was I thinking?” I have a responsibility to warn younger generations of women about the perils of seducing your college professors, dancing on the bar as a career move and/or going home with boys who live in crack houses (renovated or not). I guess I feel like a sort of Fairy Godmother screaming to all the young girls out there, “Marry a nice Jewish boy and skip the rest!”
P.S.: I was kidding about the Brett Butler thing. I meant Judy Tenuta, obvi.
Molly Prather in Fuck, Marry, Kill at Upright Citizens Brigade Theater, 5919 Franklin Ave., Hlywd.; Thurs., May 28, 8 p.m.; $5. (323) 908-8702.