Judy Tenuta's idea of a romantic Valentine's Day requires a vase of red roses, bottles of bubbly champagne, and five of her horniest boyfriends in a hotel room in Paris. "But we'd have to go to the Eiffel Tower one night," says Tenuta, before a sudden realization. "Wait a minute! Who am I kidding? I don't want to go to Paris in February! Erase that! Maui!"
But this Cupid's Day, the self-anointed Aphrodite of the Accordion has handpicked polka-partying Cleveland, because it's the "city of squeezeboxes," where squat "lesbetarians" -- Tenuta's description of fag hags -- can dress her in combat boots before she converts audiences to her signature religion. "Remember the first rule of Judyism," advises Tenuta. "You can have hot sex with pigs who ignore you, but only married hogs are totally worshipful."
Tell that to the Israeli guy who shot off an e-mail from Tel Aviv to gripe that he dumped his "love-slave boyfriend" of nine months because he wasn't getting his backside polished whenever the mood struck him. "Thank goddess you dumped the pig," Tenuta wrote back. "Any squid who wouldn't buff your buns 24-7 is a false idol. Now you must immediately strap on a squeezebox and start power-dating hotties and flaunting them in front of that Hasidic hog. He'll soon grovel at your feet, and then you can have your way with him."
Tenuta's blistering bow-and-arrow doesn't take aim at only the online lovelorn. There's "Wacko Jacko" Michael Jackson: "When is this pig going to stop paying fat-farm women to have his kids? I'm sick of it!" she wails. "Now he's going to be able to date [his kids] when they're poppin' fresh out of the oven! This is disgusting!"
And after watching Sarah Ferguson on TV, as the ex-royal strolled up the red carpet at the Golden Globe awards last month, Tenuta's acid tongue was ready to spew forth a litany of insults. "She's scary," says Tenuta. "I think she's hitting the bottle big time. She's all puffed up and going around telling everyone she's thin. Meanwhile, she's got a midsection the size of the Spruce Goose, thank you!"
Yet Tenuta claims she's a "living saint" who bleeds from her hands, communicates with small animals, and puts up with complete strangers in public restrooms. "I will be coming out of the bathroom stall -- I kid you not -- and a woman will hand me a cell phone and say, 'You gotta say hi to my six grown, illegitimate kids. Oh my God! They love you!'" screams Tenuta. "It's really sweet, actually. I just wished they'd wait until I'd pull my pants up! Hello!"
But Tenuta promises to be on her best "Queen of the Candypants" behavior for a Cleveland-style Valentine's Day. She'll even orchestrate a Make-a-Date-With-Judy contest, complete with the Cleveland police force as escorts. "And I may have to perform a marriage," she says. "Or break up one. That would be nice. But bring the goddess offerings, and I expect everyone to have a party in their pants with me."
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