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<strong>Spike</strong> | 15 YEARS OF BOOKS, MUSIC, ART, IDEAS | www.spikemagazine.com<br />

next. Very friendly and complimentary, highly libellous<br />

asides splatter the whole interview. Julie is no stranger<br />

to the libel courts, but some of her comments will not<br />

appear on <strong>Spike</strong> as none of us of course would like to<br />

see this fine site shut down. One borderline accusation<br />

about a satirist I adore leads to her virulent hatred of<br />

Catholics. When I mention that I’m a Catholic her generous<br />

gallantry storms through once more “No, you’re<br />

not! Fuck off! Do you practice birth control?!” No of<br />

course I’m a very very lapsed one Julie. “See I knew<br />

you were, listen, lapsed Catholics are the aristocracy of<br />

the earth. I never met a lapsed I didn’t like. But them<br />

that cleave to their faith. I’ll shoot the fuckers.”<br />

I ask about the time when one of my idols Morrissey<br />

walked through her door unannounced back in 1994 to<br />

a frosty reception…<br />

“God I’d forgotten about that! That was like a very,<br />

very bad marriage in three quarters of an hour: imagine<br />

the play Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf in the space of<br />

three quarters of an hour. It’s not your dream; you’re<br />

in love with someone for five years and they turn up<br />

and we start arguing about whether you should put milk<br />

in Earl Grey tea or not. I knew I had to get him out<br />

before he visited the bathroom; ‘Why do you squeeze<br />

the toothpaste from the bottom?’ Fuck off!”<br />

Julie wrote an acerbic piece about their encounter at<br />

the time. For “acerbic” read “hatchet job”. Incredibly,<br />

given Morrissey’s famed propensity for dropping peo-<br />

BUY Julie Burchill books online from and<br />

ple who’ve offended him at the drop of a daff, they’ve<br />

restarted a friendly e-mail correspondence over the past<br />

few years. Clearly he couldn’t resist someone who’s<br />

even better at bitching about people than he is.<br />

“I adore the man. He seems to be very civilised now;<br />

he seems more happy. Isn’t it funny it took America to<br />

make him more relaxed? I said to him, ‘You’ve grown<br />

into your looks, you look like someone’s sexy uncle<br />

that you’d get off with at a wedding.’ And he said in his<br />

brilliantly witty way ‘Why do you think I go to so many<br />

weddings – known to me are not?’ What a wonderfully<br />

Morrissey thing to say. Would you sleep with Morrissey<br />

if he asked and you were gay? If he was straight<br />

and I was single I still think I wouldn’t do it. I’d just be<br />

thinking ‘Oh fuck its Morrissey!’ the whole time.”<br />

Well, I must confess since early teenhood I’d always<br />

thought he’s the one man who just might ‘turn my head’<br />

as it were…<br />

“You would?! But you’d have to slap him round a<br />

bit afterwards!! That’s what Madonna said about Billy<br />

Ray Cyrus. She said ‘I’d do him, but I’d have to slap<br />

him round a bit and make him cry afterwards because<br />

of ‘Achey Breaky Heart’’ and I’d have to do that to<br />

Morrissey because – what’s the crap thing he’s done?<br />

‘Bengali In Platforms’? Course he’s a genius, but you<br />

wouldn’t wanna live with him would you?”<br />

While her talk is littered with her trademark bile<br />

Julie assures me that she is far less keen to cause fuss in<br />

131<br />

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