20 Questions: Andrew Dice Clay

Look! Up on the stage! It's leather, it's cigarette smoke, it's obscenity, it's misogyny, it's a blow-dried duck's-ass hairdo, it's—the Diceman! Make no mistake, Andrew Dice Clay, the Brooklyn-born comic who begins his shows with the immortal words "So, I got my tongue up this chick's ass ..." became an American hero faster than a speeding bullet with his album and HBO comedy special, both titled "The Diceman Cometh." Last fall, on a mini–concert tour, he sold out a 17,000-seat show in New York's Nassau Coliseum. And since Clay likes to spread his considerable macho and self-possession around, he also acts: "Casual Sex?" "Crime Story" and the upcoming movie "Ford Fairlane"—he's Ford. An additional, not insignificant credit is his being permanently banned from MTV because of his performance during last summer's video-awards ceremony. Contributing Editor David Rensin met with the Diceman in his Los Angeles apartment. On hand to greet him were Clay's moxie/magnificent girlfriend, Trini, and his road manager/best friend, Hot Tub Johnny West. "Finally." says Rensin, "Dice strolled into the living room, requested hot coffee and lighted the first of many cigarettes. He sent Hot Tub off on errands, took phone calls from Gene Simmons and Billy Joel ('So? These guys dig me, OK?') and told Trini to take a shower. From the look in his eyes, I could tell he was feeling a little dirty, too."

1.

[Q] Playboy: What special circumstances gave rise to the memorable opening line of your HBO comedy special?

[A] Clay: "I got my tongue up this chick's ass" came just as I was walking on stage one night. I was wondering what I could say to the crowd to nail 'em. It hadda be right off the top of my head. I don't use a pad and pen. Since then, I've got new lines. I'll give you one: "So I'm banging this chick, balls deep...." That's an opener.

2.

[Q] Playboy: If comedians are prize fighters, name your division and the matches you'll have to face on your road to the championship.

[A] Clay: I'm a heavyweight, but it's not the comics I have to fight. There's nobody in my way; there never was. My struggle is with the industry: the casting agents, the secretaries to the casting agents. You walk in with a leather jacket, they're saying, "Oh, another New Yorker." The battle was getting the right time spots at The Comedy Store; going up against the talk-show producers, the talent bookers. I had to show them that I was not just another stand-up; my aim was acting. There are generic comics. They come out with a suit and tie and they tell generic jokes, and if they work hard, they can make a million dollars a year. But they're not actors. I developed a very rough character that can hit a lot of levels. But I'm not Dice. He's just one thing I can do.

3.

[Q] Playboy: For what were you best known in high school?

[A] Clay: The jazz band. I was a drummer. I was the only musician in the class who knew what he was doing, so they used to center the band on me. There was always a big drum solo. If it weren't for the drums, I would never have graduated. Never. I thought I'd be the next Buddy Rich, but by the time I hit eighteen, nineteen years old, I realized there were no big bands anymore. So I went into comedy.

4.

[Q] Playboy: Eddie Murphy, Sam Kinison and others have been criticized for being too raw on stage. Why do you think you can get away with it?

[A] Clay: In a way, you have to get away with this kind of material; and the only way is to give it to 'em in a character form. Parts of Dice are me: I'm with the leather, the collar, the moves and the cigarette. But I'm doing it real comedic. Maybe Eddie came off too serious. That's one reason I put my hand around the back of my head and smoke a cigarette in the act. The minute people see that, they go, "He can't be serious." So no matter what I say, it's gotta be taken lightly. I'm not a politician, I'm not running for office, I'm a comedian telling jokes.

5.

[Q] Playboy: To what dark recesses of the American subconscious does the Diceman appeal? Who writes your material?

[A] Clay: I talk about what people do, think or say behind closed doors. As I tell the crowds, "I don't write this material. You write it for me." I'm just delivering it in a real blue way that, heard through a P.A. system, sounds really fucking funny.

6.

[Q] Playboy: Women are funny, but do they make good comedians?

[A] Clay: I rip women comedians apart. Growing up, was the class clown ever a chick? No. You go to a party, are girls ever the highlight, mooning their friends? No, it was always guys acting silly, not the girls. The girls sit in the corner and talk about the guys who are making fools of themselves. There're always exceptions—Marsha Warfield is one—but most women come on stage and bitch and moan about relationships. They all have the same rap of [nasal whine] "I want children, I want to be married." So I say, "Well, then, start fuckin'! What are you doing up here? I don't want to marry Bozo, I want a blow job. Just start fuckin'!"

7.

[Q] Playboy: Why are you so abusive to women in your act?

[A] Clay: If I was to say "Hey, chicks! You're the greatest!" there'd be no act. The problem is that there are certain things guys don't give a shit about. A chick comes home with a new kind of lipstick or a new dress—a guy cannot get excited about that. So he'll just sit there, nod and say, "Yeah, very nice, honey." But if the girl doesn't understand the man she's with, she'll turn around and say [nasal whine], "Don't you want me to have nice things?" And then it's a fight. "Yeah, but whaddaya want me to say?" "Well, you could have a little more enthusiasm." "What kinda fucking enthusiasm am I gonna have about a piece of cloth? You look great in it. Enjoy it!"

8.

[Q] Playboy: Who's smarter: men or women?

[A] Clay: Let's face it, women are smarter than men. They always have been. They own the goods. You wanna be in control, but they're always in control. Say you're out at a party with your girlfriend and you have a big fight. But then you have a couple drinks and mellow out. Now you come home, you get in bed, your vein-laden meat (concluded on page 202)Andrew Dice Clay(continued from page 157) pipe is all ready to go, and all of a sudden, she's saying, "No, I don't think so." "Why, whatsa matta? I thought you weren't mad." "No, I'm not mad at you." "Well, what's the problem?" "I just wanta sleep." Oh! I give women a lot of credit. I just good on 'em, and I think they're smart enough to know that, which is why they can come to my show and laugh. They're thinking, Hey, he can say whatever he wants, but I can wrap him around my finger.

9.

[Q] Playboy: Who won't you pick on?

[A] Clay: I got a little barraged with the gay material I used on the HBO special. I have nothing against gay people. When I started doing that kind of humor, with the kind of character that I am, I asked myself who a tough, Brooklyn-attitude kind of guy would go after, living in Hollywood. Gay guys. So I tore 'em apart, but not because I dislike them. In my new stuff, I don't even talk about gays. That's done. Besides, gays often joke about themselves.

[A] I'll pick on anybody, and that's the point. People shouldn't take it seriously. They wouldn't laugh at gay stuff if there weren't gay people. They wouldn't laugh at black material if there weren't black people. When I talk about the black penis, people laugh about it. And I'm actually saying I idolize it. Right now, I'm talking a lot about midgets and handicapped, but again, as a joke. I do jokes like "What do you do when a midget is missing? Put his picture on a container of half-and-half." It's funny. You're in a restaurant. A couple of midgets come in for dinner. Whaddaya say, "Table for three quarters"? Oh! It's a way of recognizing these people—as sick as it may sound—for also being people. Why should they be left out?

10.

[Q] Playboy: These days, most entertainers have a cause. Jerry Lewis has his kids; Billy Crystal, Robin Williams and Whoopi Goldberg have Comic Relief for the homeless. What matters to you?

[A] Clay: People look at me and think, This guy's gotta be whacked out of his mind. But on stage and off, I'm very straight. Drugs and drink are what's fucking up everything. Not the blue comedy that I do, but what you see in the streets: kids doing crack, walking around with guns. That's bad news. You can be cool without being stoned. I'm not gonna say I've never smoked pot. I've smoked pot. But not in over four years, and when I did, only once in a blue moon. And I stopped because even that sucked. I get criticized for the dirty nursery rhymes that kids go to school repeating, but I'd rather see kids doing my lines than the lines they snort up their nose. And that's no Hollywood bullshit.

11.

[Q] Playboy: Give us a sneak preview of a new nursery rhyme.

[A] Clay: "Rockaby baby on the treetop / Your mother's a whore, and I ain't your pop." Oh!

12.

[Q] Playboy: Can you tell if a woman has real breasts without touching them?

[A] Clay: Yeah. Hot Tub Johnny West, my road manager and best friend, and I study these things. The real tit always has a slight sag to it, and a nice jiggle. The fake tit has that solid approach that you could bounce marbles off of. Very solid. I don't go for that. I'd rather have a little less tit, but make it a real tit. Girls come out here to Los Angeles thinking, The bigger the tits, the more money I can make. Girls, don't put on the fake tits. You've heard my poem: "Any tit is great / Big tits, little tits / Tits that skip and hop / A happy tit, a sad tit / A tit used as a mop." By Edgar Allan Poe, right?

13.

[Q] Playboy: What can you say that will always shut down a heckler?

[A] Clay: "Here's to you, sucking my dick" always works. But now that I've said it, I'll have to come up with something new. Which I will, because I've got a brilliant comedic mind.

14.

[Q] Playboy: You worked with Priscilla Presley on your new film, Ford Fairlane. Say Elvis has returned from the grave, has called you and wants to hang out. What's on the agenda?

[A] Clay: First we go shopping, pick up a couple glitter outfits, some goggle sunglasses. I like that stuff. I'd also get him into training. He wouldn't be fat. We don't want a fat Elvis. He doesn't want a fat Elvis. That's part of the reason he's gone today. Whatever his troubles were, he couldn't help himself. Then we'd talk a lot. I really dug what he did. There are a lot of performers today who dance, who have great moves, but when he started, there was nobody. So everything he did on stage was natural and raw and it wasn't like he said, "Yeah, I like the way this guy moves, I'm gonna imitate him." Elvis was an original. I'd also have him teach me some of that stuff. I don't mind imitating somebody if he's just fucking fantastic.

15.

[Q] Playboy: How have you been influenced by the British comedy tradition?

[A] Clay: Is there comedy over there?

16.

[Q] Playboy: You live near a Hollywood intersection known for its bums, hookers, trash and traffic. Why do you call this magic area home?

[A] Clay: I call it Crack Alley. I've been living here a year and a half. It's a pretty rough section. There's a guy who lives in a box about four blocks down from here. It has do not disturb on it. We have bums, hookers, pimps, drug addicts. And struggling showbiz types—not that hookers aren't showbiz. I've had some incidents here. In one day, there was a drug bust, a fire and a chick trying to commit suicide in the lobby. When I moved in here, things were already going pretty good for me. But staying hungry's real important in show business. If you don't stay hungry, you turn into a big fat pig. When that happens, you're showing people that you're just letting yourself go, that you're satisfied with life. You're acting like "I've got it all now; I'll do what I want with it." It's no good. This particular section of town, it keeps me awake, you know what I'm saying?

17.

[Q] Playboy: Is Dice a Jockey or boxer man?

[A] Clay: I like boxers. Jockeys are too confining. I got a nickname for boxers: ball hangers. The three-piece set is not confined to one area. You can swing around all day, check out the street action. But if you put 'em in Jockeys, he's confined. He's like in jail. You meet a nice chick, you get excited, boxer shorts allow for some expression. Even on the beach, you see these guys wearing "the grape holders." No way. You just wanta hang on the beach. Chicks look great in boxers, too, especially if they're mine. Oh!

18.

[Q] Playboy: Take us on a tour of your leather jackets.

[A] Clay: Now that I'm playing bigger venues, I've got fancier jackets. I like to give them the full show. They get the high collar—I do the Elvis-collar thing now—which is working nicely. I used to wear just the plain motorcycle jacket, a few zippers, you can buy 'em in any store, a hundred and forty-nine bucks on sale. Now the jackets are more like five thousand apiece, with rhinestones, studs, my name, an eagle. But there are some things I wouldn't put on a leather jacket. I'm not into the whole thing with the skulls and the Devils. I'm more into a Vegasy look. More of a show jacket.

19.

[Q] Playboy: Whom would you immediately arrest if you caught him wearing leather?

[A] Clay: Pee-wee Herman. Unless he was doing his impersonation of me.

20.

[Q] Playboy: Describe the perfect Dice woman.

[A] Clay: Two tits, a hole and a heartbeat; that's all it takes.

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