Lisa Lampanelli, Las Vegas Sun

Columnist Lisa Ferguson: ‘Queen of Mean’ Lampanelli not out to offend Lisa Ferguson Friday, Oct. 22, 2004 | 8:40 a.m. Lisa Lampanelli offers these words of warning about her stand-up shows to the thin-skinned masses: "If you can't take it, don't (expletive deleted) come out." Blunt enough for ya? If not, then you're in luck. The comedian -- who makes her Las Vegas debut with performances Tuesday through Oct. 31 at The Improv at Harrah's -- pulls no punches in her role as an equal-opportunity offender. She elicits raucous laughs by incorporating seemingly every stereotype and epithet conceivable about races, genders, sexual preferences and even physical disabilities into her profanity-punctuated act. Interestingly enough, Lampanelli contends, the targets of her mockery rarely claim to feel insulted by her material, the bulk of which isn't suitable for a family newspaper. "I've gotta hand it to minorities and people who have different disabilities and stuff: They seem to just have a lighter heart than the rest of us. White people are (expletive deleted) spoiled, we really are; we're so sensitive," she contended during a call last week from New York City, her part-time home (when she's not in Los Angeles), where she was readying to rip into Donald Trump as part of the Friar's Club recent 100th anniversary roast. Connecticut-bred Lampanelli's comedy philosophy is as straightforward as her shtick: "I just think every word means nothing unless there's hate behind it." At the conclusion of her shows, the "Lovable Queen of Mean" (as she's been dubbed) tells audiences, "why I do this kind of comedy: 'I do this because in this politically correct ... society, we get every race, creed, color into the same room and laugh at ourselves,' and (audiences) always clap," she explains. " 'I say all of these crazy words ... because I feel if you hear these words without hate, there's no harm in them. They're just words that go away.' " As a former journalist who worked for Rolling Stone, Spy and Hit Parader magazines in the late-'80s, Lampanelli knows the impact words can have. "I think of these moments when I really misused language and stuff and thought, 'Wow, if you aren't careful and you really don't have a good message, you can really be misunderstood.' "So that's why I try to, like, spread around the insults equally to everybody, and to just know that it's done to make the point of, let's be honest -- every stereotype is just ridiculous. Us Italians, we have our share; the blacks have their share; everybody does." After working brief stints as a schoolteacher and, later, a karaoke host Lampanelli dove into comedy about 13 years ago. "All my life I was making people laugh and insulting people, and they weren't getting mad at me; and when they did, I'd sort of take note why and study it," she recalls. Since then, she's built a reputation for being a female version of insult king Don Rickles, whom she once met. "He said, 'I hear you do this thing that I do, I just think it's great. Show (the audience) how much you love them and you can get away with anything.' " Onstage, nobody -- including other females -- is safe from Lampanelli's wrath. "Women comics are just awful," she says. "I'm a fan of any (expletive deleted) with a punch line, but it seems like half of them just go up there and ramble and tell dumb stories, or just talk about their periods or dating or shopping ... You have to appeal to men (ages) 18 to 34 without trying, and that's why I think it works for me." Meanwhile, she says, by going onstage dressed like a "school mom, with the sweater sets and everything ... It's like you're this stealth bomber or something," opening fire on audiences, just as she did during the 2002 New York Friar's Club Roast of comedian/actor Chevy Chase, which aired on Comedy Central. "Man, nobody knew who I was and everybody was ignoring me because it was all celebrities," she recalls regarding her reception before she took the stage. "After the roast, I felt like such a big star, and you just go, 'I snuck up on them.' It was great." Off-color quips haven't always flowed freely from Lampanelli's lips. "Two years ago I said, 'I'll never say the n-word onstage.' " These days, it's commonplace in her act, though she insists that behind every epithet she utters, "There's a good heart, there's a good intention." In some of the "weird, little towns" across the country where she's performed, she explains, "People think all Hispanics have knives. It's so dumb, so of course that's what you're gonna make fun of. But you can't make fun of it by going, 'You people are really stupid that you think that.' You have to act like you buy it, like an Archie Bunker (-type character), and show how silly it is." Surprisingly enough, she's actually been chastised for not picking on members of certain groups. Following one show, "I did have a guy in a wheelchair come up to me and yell at me -- literally -- because I didn't make fun of him," she recalls. "He was like, 'I think it's cool you do this type of comedy, but why would you leave us out?' And I'm like, 'Oh, dude, I didn't see your wheels.' " Last year Lampanelli (who cites her "comedy age" as 36) became one of a handful of white comedians to ever appear on "Comic View," a stand-up series on cable's Black Entertainment Television. Last month she taped an episode of "Premium Blend" for Comedy Central, which is set to run early next year; and in January she's scheduled to shoot a hourlong stand-up special for the cable network. She previously staged her self-penned, one-woman show titled "Chocolate, Please," about her adventures in interracial dating (her boyfriend of more than two years is black), in New York. The show's premise is "about how it really has nothing to do with color," she says. "It has to do with liking yourself and going after what you want." What Lampanelli wants is a sitcom based on the stage show. "This could be pitched as a pilot because it's a really funny idea -- me with the black boyfriend and my Italian mother." Still, she insists, "It's not like I'm dying for fame. I'm dying to just go to a theater with 500, 600 seats, do two (stand-up) shows and just kill the people who like the show." As for those whose funny bones aren't tickled by her material, well, that's too bad: "I know I go up there with no prejudice," she reminds, "so all I answer to is myself." Out for laughs Alonzo Bodden -- who graced this space on May 7 -- last week took home the top prize of $250,000 on the season finale of NBC's "Last Comic Standing," which aired on Comedy Central. He's scheduled to headline Palace Station's Laugh Trax Dec. 14 through Dec. 18. Laugh Lines friend Hiram Kasten -- profiled in Laugh Lines on Aug. 6 -- called to alert us that earlier this month he reprised the role of Joey in "The Rat Pack is Back," which plays through Sunday at the Mohegan Sun casino in Uncasville, Conn. Kasten, as you may recall, handled the part in the late-'90s when the show was housed at the Desert Inn. Kasten returns to Las Vegas in January for stand-up performances at Riviera Comedy Club; catch him in March when he plays Kirstie Alley's agent on the new Showtime comedy/reality series "Fat Actress."